#Former Brock Rumlow x reader

[holylulusworld]

Before you (18)

Summary: King Steven Grant Rogers once was a good king and a gentle alpha. Now he’s a cruel shadow of his former self. Can he find the light again? 

Pairing: King(Alpha)!Steve Rogers x Maid(Omega)!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Lady Natalia, Stephen Strange, Lady Sharon, Peter Brock Rumlow, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, threats, implied (magical) torture, ooc/dark Stephen Strange, fluff, hurt & comfort, scenting, unrequited love

A/N: Now... We are in the endgame. 😭 This chapter leads toward the three planned endings...

Before you masterlist 

<< Part 17

The king is obsessed with you. Even more than before.

Since Sharon tried to kill you, Steve didn’t let you out of sight for too long. Even when you weren’t allowed to leave his bedroom. For days he’s the only person you saw, and you get the feeling he won’t allow people to visit you anytime soon.

Steve is scared to the bone. He cried in your lap when everyone left you alone. The usually strong-minded alpha lost control and showed you his vulnerable side.

“I feared I’ll lose you again,” Steve whimpers in your neck.

At the moment he’s curled around your body and holds you close to his chest. His alpha took over and he gives in to his instinct.

Protect. Scent. Nest.

“I’m here with you, my king,” you softly say. You need to calm the pumped-up alpha. If not, he’ll never let you leave the room again. “I’m safe with you.”

“Bucky saved you,” he grits his teeth. Steve hates that his brother was the one saving you. You know Bucky must’ve seen the shard in your hand before Steve even got the chance, but Steve blames himself for not saving you. “It was my duty.”

“He’s your brother, and my friend,” he hums, but holds you even tighter. “Bucky saved me because of you.” – at least that’s what you try to tell yourself.

There was something in his eyes after you hugged him. Something that you didn’t see before. Bucky’s scent changed the moment you whispered alpha in his ear and he purred low in his throat.

The word just slipped past your lips, and now, you fear that you woke something in the alpha that you cannot take back.

“Bucky is a good brother and a good man,” Steve nuzzles you. “He’s going to be a good brother-in-law. I’ll make sure he finds his luck too.”

“His luck,” you close your eyes and bask in Steve’s scent.

It’s hard to think straight close to your true mate. It’s so much easier to just give in to what your omega is yearning for.

You let go of all of your doubts, fears, and the nagging feeling Bucky wanted to tell you something before you let go of him.

“Do you want me to get more knights to guard the door?” he asks. “I want you to feel safe, my love. You will tell me if you don’t feel safe, right? Please.”

“I’m safe here,” you turn in his embrace to bury your face in his chest. “I feel safe too, Steve. Can we forget about them for a while? I just want to forget about Peggy and Sharon.”

“We can forget about it. I promise. None of them will ever hurt you again. I made sure of it. The sorcerer supreme made sure of it…”

“She was a tough little bitch, huh?” Rumlow watches the sorcerer walk inside his cell. “I swear, I don’t know anything about Sharon’s plans. I only know what Peggy told me. Please…”

“I know, my sweet and well-behaved boy,” Stephen smirks darkly. “What a downfall for the Carters.” The sorcerer gently pats Rumlow’s head. “For you too. I saw your future, my son. You could’ve been so much more.”

“I could have been so much more…” the fallen knight whimpers as Stephen cups his face roughly. “I should have been so much more.”

“You had one chance and didn’t take it. Your fate is sealed,” the sorcerer drops his hand from his prisoner’s face. “I cannot shelter your life. The executioner is on his way.”

“I accepted my fate, my Lord,” Rumlow whispers. “I brought this upon myself. All I ever did was hurting people. With my end, my sins will get vanished too.”

“I will pray for you, my good boy,” Stephen pats Rumlow’s head again. “I will ask him to do it fast…”

“Bucky, what has gotten into you,” Natalia watches the alpha throw a chair against the wall. “JAMES!”

“She called me alpha!” he sniffs.

“Who?” she softly asks. “Bucky, what happened?”

“After I saved her, Y/N hugged me,” he whispers. “She sniffed at my neck and called me alpha. I guess it was just a slip of tongue. Maybe she wanted to say it to Steve and—”

“I see,” the redhead nods thoughtfully. “Maybe she feels the same, James. If there is only the slightest chance Y/N loves you too, you cannot let her slip through your fingers. You must tell her and Steve how you feel.”

“I can’t,” he whines low in his throat. “I told you, this will ruin everything for my brother, Y/N, and the kingdom. You can’t ask me to be selfish in this.”

“I don’t ask you to be selfish, James,” Natalia shrugs. “I want you to get what you deserve. I’m your friend, you know. Even if we weren’t meant for each other, I feel a connection. I don’t want to see you in pain…”

“Natalia, I’m not in pain,” Bucky puffs his chest. He tries to hide that he dreams of you whispering alpha in his ear. “I will get over her.”

“James…”

“I got over you too, right?” he gives Natalia a cracked smile. “Don’t give me those eyes. We both know the kingdom will go to hell if I run away with Y/N.”

“So…you thought about running away with that sweet omega,” she presses on. “How do you want to do it?”

“Natalia!”

“Come on, it’s only you and me here, James. You can tell me about your plans…”

“Off with her head,” Stephen chuckles darkly. “Aw, my dear Lady Sharon.” He enjoys the fear on Sharon’s face. “What? Don’t you like my sense of humor? I guess you are more into hurting innocent girls.”

“I did nothing wrong,” she spits on the ground. Sharon is stubborn and strong; Stephen gives her that. “The king deserves a woman of royal blood by his side, not some maid growing up in dirt and sin. She cannot become queen.”

“I think you are mistaken,” the sorcerer harshly grab Sharon’s face. “You forfeited your life for a dream you’ll never reach. Even if you would’ve succeeded, he’ll never love you.”

He stares down at the shaking woman. “Now, did you learn your lesson or do we want to start anew? I got this nice potion making you feel like your body is on fire. Do we want to try it?”

“I suggest you tell him everything he wants to hear, Lady,” Rumlow grunts. “It’s easier and less painful.”

“Coward,” she spats.

“That I am,” he laughs now. “But at least my pain is over, Lady. Yours just began…”

“It’s been a long time, sorcerer,” the healer watches Stephen put his potions back inside his bag. “I assume your task is done?”

“Healer Banner,” the sorcerer bows. “A pleasure to meet you again, my old friend. How long has it been?”

“Six years since you decided to turn toward the darker side of our…profession,” Bruce sneers at the sorcerer. “Did she tell you everything you wanted to know?”

“I must talk to the king,” Stephen dips his head to glance at Sharon who is cowering in a corner of her cell. She dares not to look at the sorcerer. “She’s all yours. But be aware, she will try to kill you. Lady Sharon will try to lure you into false safety.”

“I’m not a fool,” the healer bites back. “I’m not wearing weapons and, I brought two knights with me.”

Lord Wilson nods at Stephen. “Your prisoner is in capable hands now. Thank you, sorcerer supreme.”

“Very well,” Stephen takes his bag and turns to leave. “I’ll take my leave…”

“Grant, my love,” you grab Steve’s hand to drag him toward the door. “Let’s leave the room. We are here for over a week.”

“I can’t…Y/N,” the king hesitates. “I need to…wait.”

He takes your hand to press it to his heart. “What is it, my king?”

“Sharon is gone, the man killing your family too,” Steven licks his lips. “I know this is the wrong moment to ask you but, do you…”

“Grant,” you cup his face and look up at Steve, “what do you want to tell me, my king?”

“I-I I want to wake up and see your face every morning. If you give me the honor to become my wife and omega, I will know that I'm right where fate wants me to be. Where I want to be. All I want to do for the rest of my life is loving you.”

“Steve, I don’t want to become queen,” you stand on tiptoes to brush your lips over his. “But I want to become yours…”

Stephen Strange left in the morning; leaving a bitter taste on the king’s tongue.

You never know on which’s side the sorcerer stands. So far, he never betrayed the king, but Steve doesn’t trust the man with cold eyes.

“Is he finally gone?” Bucky asks. “Strange gives me the creeps.”

“He told me everything about Sharon, Peggy and King Howard. There is no secret uncovered. At least not theirs,” Steve looks at his brother. “Strange said he saw the future.”

“He did,” Bucky swallows thickly. “What did he say?”

“The sorcerer said he couldn’t see our future clearly,” the king says. “But he told me that Y/N is the key to our future. She must be protected at all costs…”

>> Normal ending

>> Bucky’s ending

>> Alternative ending

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x peasant reader #king!steve rogers x maid!reader #a/b/o #medieval au #bucky barnes #Before you (18) #alpha!steve x omega!reader

[xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx]

Imagine Meeting Peggy

Imagine Steve taking you to finally meet Peggy for the first time.

Steve Rogers x Fury!Reader

WARNINGS: slight smut, angst, insecure reader

SET DURING: After Age of Ultron and Before Civil War

BETA’D: @titty-teetee

Your toes curled, as your body tensed, exploding with intense pleasure coursing through your veins. Your vision turned white, forcing you to see stars.

Steve finally released his climax, shuddering against you, before he finally rolled off to the side and collapsed next to you. The two of you laid there trying to catch your breath.

Sweat clung to you like second skin, soaking through the cotton t-shirt you were currently wearing. You squeezed your legs together, trying to alleviate the aftershocks of your orgasm, the sensations still running through your system.

“You alright?” Steve breathed, looking over at you.

“I’m getting there.” You giggled softly with your eyes closed, as you began to feel your body grow heavy with exhaustion. “Talk about a homecoming.”

You heard Steve chuckle deeply, before feeling him grab your hand. You opened your eyes just in time to see him place a soft kiss to the back of it, and then lay it against his bare chest, that was coated with a light sheen of sweat.

You and Steve had been living together for almost two years now in that brownstone in Brooklyn, and your relationship was as normal as it could be for a former SHIELD agent turned Avenger and your super soldier enhanced boyfriend.

Since Ultron, business had almost seemed to slow down a bit. The Avengers were being called on less, and things were fairly quiet at the moment. You all still had your missions both together and separate; Steve being on the hunt for Brock Rumlow and you were taking on smaller, home base missions since your secret search for the Winter Soldier went cold. Although you two spent time apart, it did make the coming home amazing. Not to mention that sex with a super enhanced partner was out of this fucking world.

You and Steve were getting a hang of this whole relationship thing. You had dated quite a few guys in the past, but no one like Steve. He was still old school when it came to courting you. He’d never show up without bringing you fresh lilies; your favorite flower. He would show you around Brooklyn; the places he used to go to when he was a boy. Or he’d just take you on his motorcycle across the Brooklyn Bridge at night to watch the stars. He was the perfect gentleman.

Steve was actually the first guy you really felt this deeply for, that it kind of scared you at times. Although things were definitely going better than you could imagine so far, it hadn’t stopped you from waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There were things about Steve’s past that he still refused to share with you, and that’s what worried you the most.

And speaking of your super soldier...

You watched him through hooded eyelids, as he pulled on his boxer briefs and stood from your king sized bed.

”Going somewhere?” You questioned, still trying to catch your breath, feeling the edges of your brand new relaxed hair, start to curl again.

Steve was now making his way around your bedroom, shoving things into a duffel bag.

“I have to catch a flight in a couple of hours.”

You quickly sat up, looking at your boyfriend confused. “Wait? You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah,” he tossed the bag on the bed, explaining, “I’ll be back in like a day or two.”

“Steve, you just got back last night. Is it another mission? Avenger stuff?” You rambled, trying to figure out why your boyfriend would be leaving after not even spending a full 24 hours at home with you.

Steve shook his head, throwing a few more items into the duffel and zipped it up. “No, this is something a little personal.”

And now you were really confused. “Personal?” You waited a bit, allowing him to elaborate on this personal business he had, but after nearly 20 seconds of dead silence you knew he wasn’t going to explain further. So, you thought you’d coax him yourself. “You care to share with the rest of the class?”

He chuckled, walking over to you and kissing your temple. “Trust me, doll, this is something you don’t want to know about.”

And that didn’t settle well with you.

You watched as he made his way over to your master bathroom, before stopping in his tracks. His shoulders slumped, and he then turned to face you, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. He had a look of guilt across his face.

What could he be feeling guilty about?

“Come with me.” He offered.

You blinked several times, making sure you heard what you heard. “What?”

“Come with me tonight. It’s better that I show you anyway.” He sounded so sincere, but you weren’t sure what your answer would be. “So, whadda you say?” He reached his hand out toward you.

You took in a deep breath, contemplating on what you should do. But the answer came to you quickly, as you reluctantly stood to your feet and walked over to him. He smiled softly, pulling you into his arms and kissing your lips, before the two of you walked into the bathroom together.

Holding your shaking hand, Steve walked you into what you now knew was a hospice located in Washington, DC. You kept trying to rack your brain about this personal business Steve had until the moment you stepped through the door.

It was the other shoe, and it dropped hard.

You had never mentioned it, even after your father insisted that you should. You tried to justify that you could live your life without it ever being brought up ever again. Or you always believe that if Steve brought it up, that he would tell you in his own way. But it never happened, and it also never stopped it from burning a hole in your mind from time to time.

“Wait here.” Steve told you, as the two of you stopped outside of a room. He gave your hand a small squeeze, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

All you could do was nod, watching him walk into the room. You leaned up against the wall, to keep your legs from going out and to possibly eavesdrop.

“...and how’s my best girl doing?”

The words you heard Steve utter on the other side of the wall, cut through you like a knife. You knew they shouldn’t have, but they did.

You could barely hear anyone in the room other than Steve’s voice.

“...there’s someone I want you to meet. She’s real special to me.”

Was the last thing you heard when Steve appeared at the doorway, eyes shining down at you. He grabbed your hand in his, once more, giving it another squeeze. You wanted to run at this moment, because you knew exactly what was going to happen, but your legs reluctantly betrayed you, and you started following your boyfriend.

When you walked into the room, and Steve stepped out of the way, you finally saw her.

She was weak and frail, but the woman you knew so little of was beautiful and strong. She was the first woman to ever defy the odds of being the first woman SHIELD agent. She paved the way for women like you, your mom, Nat, and Agent Hill.

Her eyes were the most familiar. No matter how much she had aged over the years, physically, her eyes were still the same. Dark, mysterious, and full of hope. Those eyes had been haunting you ever since you and Steve nearly got blown to smithereens by corrupt SHIELD agents, nearly four years ago.

Those eyes belonged to none other than Margaret Carter, or so you knew her as Agent Peggy Carter.

A woman who’s memory you had been afraid of for years.

Only she wasn’t a memory.

She was here.

Right now.

In the present.

Staring back at you.

“Y/N, this is Peggy. Peggy, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” Steve said, introducing the two of you.

You smiled shyly, giving the elderly woman in front of you a wave. While on the inside you were dying.

“Oh, Steven, she’s beautiful.” Peggy managed to muster out in her current state.

“I told you.” Steve smiled, placing his hand on your lower back.

“Come.” She was barely able to lift her hand to beckon you over. “Come, sit. A bit of a girl’s chat, yeah?”

Again, all you could do was nod, as Steve guided you to a vacant chair next to Peggy’s bed. A chair that you knew that Steve had occupied before.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Here you were sitting next to the woman of whom the man you love, had loved, or still loved. You weren’t quite sure of that anymore.

Steve explained to you about her growing Alzheimers, which was now beginning to worsen with each passing day. She remembered Steve, but five minutes into the conversation, she would be shocked and surprised to see that he made it out of the ice alive. He had to explain to her who you were, and each time she took you with kindness. No bitterness or resentment. She would comment every single time that Steve looked happy with you, and you had a certain glow that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Then, five minutes later, like an eraser to a chalkboard, her mind would be wiped clean.

“So,” Steve began nervously, hands shoved into his pockets.

You both were now standing outside the facility, as visiting hours were over.

You didn’t know how you were going to handle this conversation. You were both upset and relieved. Relieved that Steve finally opened up about Peggy, but upset that it took him this long and hadn’t even bothered to tell you she was at least alive in the first place.

“How long’ve you been coming here?”

He looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with you. “Since I found out she was still alive.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He finally looked at you. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Every time’s Peggy’s name was mentioned, in any capacity, I could see how it would hurt you, and I didn’t want you to go through that.”

You folded your arms, across your chest. “I’m a big girl, Steve. You should have told me. I had to hear it from my father.”

His head snapped back, looking at you surprised. “Your father? Fury told you? When?”

“When I woke up, after Ultron.”

Now his hands were placed on his hips. “You mean to tell me that you’ve known for almost two years, and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’ve known longer than that and you never said shit to me.” You argued back. It was the audacity of him that had you reeling right now. “For the last two years, I have been patiently waiting for you to come clean, Steve. Why now?”

Steve waited a few seconds, sighing, and looking down at his shuffling feet. “She’s dying. They told me she doesn’t have much longer to go.”

You didn’t know why, but that made you even more angry. He waited until the possibility of Peggy’s death to tell you that she was even alive. You couldn’t deal with this. At least not right now.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” this time it was you who tried to avoid Steve’s gaze, “but I need to be alone right now to process all of this.” You immediately turned and started walking away from him, ignoring his calls, as the tears fell from your eyes.

TAGS: If you wanna be tagged, please Tag yourself.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans fanfiction

[real-jane]

burritos and bandages

[steve rogers x fem!reader]

summary: steve has a run-in with your ex-fiancé, which requires some tlc... and the aftermath reveals some sweet and long-held secrets.

words: 4k

warnings: steve v high on pain meds, cuddly steve, canon level fist-fight/aftermath, enough fluff to keep your dentist in business for 100 years

a/n: This is the sequel to bug and bear! steve's a firefighter, that is unimportant but it is briefly mentioned. this idea came from a post sent to me by @thornsnvultures <3

--

To say that your mother is angry when you tell her your wedding is off would be to discount the tenderness of hearing her admit ‘I never did like how he talks to you, sweetheart,’... but she still makes you call every single guest the next day to call things off officially, and all the vendors, and the burden of paying the cancellation fees for the photographer falls squarely into your wallet. It’s worth it, though, especially to see her face change from stress to joy a week later, as Steve floats into view behind you on video chat to give a bashful wave.

“Honey,” she says to you, with one eyebrow cocked. “Is there something else you wanna tell me?”

Steve squeezes your shoulders. “Hey, Mama.” His cheek is pressed against your temple as he greets your mother.

“Hi Stevie. Are you taking care of our girl?”

He chuckles. “You know I am.”

“Good boy. Anything you want me to share with Sarah?”

“Mom–” you groan, but Steve kisses your cheek.

“Tell her I need Elaine’s ring,” he mock-whispers, cupping his hands over your ears. You roll your eyes, but your heart is in your throat because your mother instantly bursts into tears. You hug Steve’s arms as they surround you, as if to hug her, too.

She’s angry because she’s been so stressed out trying to rationalize your relationship with Brock for the last decade, and she’s angry that she didn’t get through to you about Steve ages ago, and mostly, she’s angry that she bought a dress she can’t wear anymore. But it’s not real anger, it’s just shock. Your mother is thrilled. When you tell her in excruciating detail about what made you decide to call things off–how something as simple as standing on Steve’s shoes in a dance lesson gave you clarity–her tears turn into an unsuppressable smile. She can’t stop shaking her head in amazement, and when Steve leaves you so he can run down and greet someone at the buzzer, she tells you how proud she is that you listened to your heart.

It’s not that you need her approval, but having it makes the rash decision feel like an inevitability which everyone but you counted on since you’d first said yes to marrying Brock Rumlow. It’s embarrassing, knowing that the two people you care about the most (and maybe more) don’t like your former fiancé, but you’ll get over it eventually. Especially living with your bear.

“Bug…?” he calls, and a heavy knock falls on the front door. You frown.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Mom. Okay? Love you.” You exchange a blown kiss with your mother and hang up. The second you reach the door, you gasp, because Steve is leaning against the doorframe bleeding from the eyebrow. His cheekbone is already purple. He glances up at you, but his hair flops over his forehead and he winces. 

“What the fuck?” You swing the door wide for him to enter. His keys are clutched in his fist but his hands are shaking.

“Hi, baby,” he breathes. “Brock brought a bag for you.” He vaguely waves at an overstuffed reusable IKEA bag on the landing behind him, and attempts to put a hand on your shoulder, but he’s too dizzy. He misses your shoulder completely. You catch him around the waist and ease him to sit against the wall, just inside the door. 

“Jesus, what did he do to you?” you gasp, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“Wailed on me. He only got in three hits before he ran off.” Steve’s eyebrow has already stopped bleeding, but his eyelid is so swollen, he can barely open it. “I think I have a steak in the freezer.”

“You want me to put a raw steak on your face?” You hiccough a pained laugh.

“I’ll cook it and we’ll forget this ever happened.” He closes his eyes, and leans his head back against the wall. You kneel on either side of his legs and inspect him for any other signs of where he might be hurt, but it’s just his face which bore the brunt of Brock’s unhinged attack. Steve’s fingers curl around your thighs when you sigh. “He blamed me,” Steve says softly. “Said you were happy. ‘Til I put ideas in your head.”

Your hurt squeezes. “Right,” you breathe. “Happy.” You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to Steve’s forehead. “Bear–”

“Hmm.” His head lists to the side.

“Let me take you to the ER–”

“No,” he scoffs, eyes still firmly closed and fingers gripping your legs for dear life, “just been a long time since I took a haymaker to the face. I’ll be okay.”

“Steven–you might have a concussion! Or bones floating in your sinuses. Or a detached retina. You might swallow too much blood in your sleep and choke to death–”

He coughs. “No more CSI, ma’am.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Not in your death trap–”

“Your car. Please? I will keep you up all night long if you don’t let me take you. Huh? Is that what you want? For me to lose precious sleep?”

“You are so pushy. It’s like you and…” he opens his eyes a fraction of an inch and closes them again. “You and your twin, there, don’t even care that I’m fine.”

You poke him in the shoulder. “Either I take you, or I call 911 and four guys with a stretcher carry you down six flights of stairs.”

Steve sighs. “So, this is what I get for loving a worrier.” But he smiles, despite his clear pain, and nods faintly. “You win, bugs.”

–

Close to midnight, you stumble back into your apartment with a drugged-up blond on one arm, and several shopping bags full of supplies on the other. Steve’s objectively fine; no broken bones, no internal bleeding, just a bruised cheekbone. And three stitches in his eyebrow. But the doctor gave him strong medicine for the pain, and told him to sleep it off. 

You’re exhausted, but he has enough medicine coursing through his system to fell a Clydesdale and he’s loopy. His cheek is pressed against your hair, despite being far taller than you, and he’s humming. All while you attempt to bring the bags into the kitchen, which are full of things he picked out from the bodega on the corner for dinner. Why he needed three bags of Funyons, only drugged-up Steve could say. 

“”M gonna cook, what do you want?” he asks, nosing your hairline. “My bugsy. Buggy.” He chuckles. “You smell good.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, pushing him back until he’s braced against the cabinets in the corner. “Can you stay standing?”

“So good at standing. Watch me.” He points at his feet. “Doin’ it right now. See that?”

“Very impressive.” You can’t help but laugh. “Do you want your onions?” The yellow and green bag swings from your fingers.

“I want a burrito?”

“What flavor?” You dig through the bag that he crammed FULL of microwavable frozen burritos. “Nevermind. Your only choice is chicken.”

“Chicken is the only kind in the world.” He snorts. “Hey. I can do it.”

“No–” You hold up your hands to keep him from listing forward. He leans into your touch happily. “No operating heavy machinery, remember?”

“Pssh. I’m a professional.”

“What are you gonna tell the chief on Wednesday?”

“Got in a fight,” he shrugs. “My girlfriend’s chickenshit fiancé tried to get me back for stealin’ her away, and I told him he couldn’t talk to her, so he punched me, and then she bought me chicken burritos.” 

“Wait–” You freeze with a burrito in each fist and wheel on him. “He asked to talk?”

Steve looks down at his shoes and toes the tile. “He was yelling. I told him he can’t yell at you.”

“Steven Rogers. You didn’t say he wanted to talk–”

“Well he didn’t. He just wanted to be mean, and I’m protecting you.”

“I–” You stop for a second and take a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this when you’re not high as a kite.”

“You mad?” Those hands like catcher’s mitts slide around your waist and he noses your neck. You sigh, but you accept the embrace.

“Yes.”

“Why, buggy?”

“Because you don’t get to decide whether or not I can handle something. I would’ve probably agreed to talk to him for a second, regardless of whether or not he was mean. I’m a big girl.”

“Mmm,” he groans. “I know. You’re the smartest girl. You’re a woman though, baby, a smart woman and I know that.”

“Ooookay,” you sigh, leaving the conversation behind for the morning. “How many burritos do you want?”

“Three.”

“You gonna let go of me, so I can heat them up?” 

Steve reluctantly does so, and then he stumbles towards the living room. “Pajamas!” He calls over his shoulder. You rub your face in frustration… less with him than with Brock. 

But you admit to yourself that some of that frustration is a little bit with Steve, too. 

He’s going to have to get used to just being your partner–not your knight. You don’t need him to fulfill the silent protector role that he’s used to, because he couldn’t be at your side. Now, he’s the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, which comes with a certain amount of trust in you to handle your own shit. And a little more softness. Calling off your wedding, even to someone like Brock, has been much harder on you than you let on. 

Even though you don’t want Brock, you still grieve the change in the life you had planned. 

It isn’t rational, and it hurts in a way that you’ll ultimately grow to appreciate, once that pang turns into healing… and you want Steve. But it doesn’t make it easier to make a hundred personal calls to explain that you’re no longer marrying the man you’ve been seeing for a decade, and have to listen to every single person give you their condolences–authentic or not.

The microwave beeps. You pull the plate out and set it on the table. “Bear?”

Your man returns to the kitchen, sans shirt, still in his jeans, missing a sock… looking bewildered, and carrying one of his signature black moleskin notebooks. You can’t help but giggle at his state. 

“Get lost out there?” you ask. His expression brightens and he patters over until he’s toe-to-toe with you. 

“I think this will make you not mad,” he whispers, handing you the notebook. He swipes the plate from the table and attempts to wink with the eyeball he can’t open… which results in him bobbing his head and then grinning with more teeth than usual. Steve disappears into the living room, leaving you to inspect his peace offering.

It looks like the one he always has in his back pocket, but it’s the next size larger. The cover has a year crudely carved into it and you frown. That can’t be right. Why would a notebook from your senior year of high school make you ‘not mad?’

Opening the cover is like taking a step into a chamber of Steve Roger’s heart, and finding treasure. Your face stares back at you, from page one, sketched in faded mechanical pencil. Every shadow on your young face is smudged in by a deft finger, and your eyes… they sparkle. You’re not sure if your eyes have ever done that in real life, but somehow, a sketch communicates just such a thing. The lines which make up your mouth are softer, the shading finer. Like most of his time was spent on forming your soft close-lipped smile. At the bottom right corner are his initials–S.G.R.--and the year, once again.

The backside of that page? You.

Next: You, looking over your shoulder.

Then, your profile while you read.

A whole page is dedicated just to your eyes.

His first car, the pickup truck you used to set your watch by as it rumbled awake every morning.

And then… you, again.

The entire sketchbook, save an odd drawing of a squirrel (noted as ‘Bucky’s Long-Lost Brother’), a scratched-out self portrait, and several pages of football plays… it’s filled with sketches of You. 

“Steve?” you peep. 

His face appears around the doorway, looking sheepish. You swallow hard. “I’m… I’m not mad,” you manage. It’s the only way you can verbalize the genuine shock of seeing your image immortalized by his hand. “This is really lovely.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans and shrugs. “Just love you, ‘s all.”

“You drew me… a lot,” you laugh in disbelief, flipping again to the front page. Steve stands before you and nods.

“Pretty much all my pencil ever wanted to do,” he says.

“No wonder you almost failed Trig.”

He chuckles. “I have about… six more of those spanning the last ten-ish years. You feature heavily in them all. Except recently, I…” he shakes his head. “Couldn’t look at you on paper like that, knowing you were slipping away from me.”

“Bear, how have I never known that you draw like this?” You press your hand to his chest. He grasps your wrist.

“You didn’t know that I loved you back then, either. Only two secrets I ever kept from you.”

“How long?”

“Have I drawn you?”

“Yeah.”

Steve holds your face between his palms like he’s still seeing double, but he appears at least a little more lucid than he was earlier. Or maybe, talking about you is something that comes so easily to him, he can do it with far too much morphine running through his body. Either way, he’s taken with the feeling of your skin under his thumbs.

“Never could get your cheeks right,” he murmurs. “But, um. When I was really little, I used to draw a girl. She was my age, and she was my imaginary friend. Every picture, I drew her. Same hair color every time. And then we moved, and I met you. And I dunno. Just made sense that I’d been drawing you all along, so. I got better at it once the girl wasn’t imaginary anymore.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “I think Mr. Lee knew how I felt about you by junior year, considering my final portrait subject was you for the third year in a row,” Steve admits, cheeks immediately reddening.

“No,” you gasp behind your fingers. “You’re serious–”

“Buggy,” he laughs. “I thought for sure you were gonna catch me at it. Why do you think I never wanted you to come to the art show?”

“...I thought you were bad,” you admit, which elicits the biggest laugh you’ve heard from him in a long time. He has to lean on the wall to stay upright. “Don’t laugh!” You’re smiling, regardless. “The way you see me, bear… I don’t look like this!” You hold up the sketch and Steve takes the notebook from your hands gingerly.

“Of course not. That was teenage bugsy. But–hold on–I’m fine!” He stumbles from dizziness, but catches himself on the doorframe. He darts into the living room again, and this time you follow. He drops onto his knees as if he hasn’t injured both of them repeatedly since joining the firehouse, and peruses the bottom shelf of his bookcase until he finds what he’s searching for. Then, Steve grabs a smaller notebook, still black, with the current year stamped into the front. The one you gave him for Christmas last year. He flips frantically through the pages, and then holds it up.

“This is you.”

And it is, but it’s you through the eyes of a man who has been drawing you for so many years that he’s an expert on every little freckle and fine line in your skin, who looks at you and sees a future so precious that he’s willing to take three solid punches to the face for you. The portrait is you, yes, but it’s the most true version of who you are. Nobody knows you better than Steve, or sees you more clearly. Mirrors lie, by comparison. Your face is a decade older in this portrait, but you’ve never felt so beautiful.

The image blurs, and you hold a hand out to him, cupping the other over your mouth as the waterworks start. He crawls to you, reminding you that he’s still probably feeling the morphine, and hugs you with his cheek against your soft belly. 

“Wanna give you my grandma Elaine’s ring,” he says softly. “I wasted time making love to the idea of you on paper instead of getting brave and telling you, and I almost lost you.”

“How high are you?” You ask, though you feel the sincerity in your soul.

“Marry me.” It’s the first time he’s said it explicitly, even though he as good as asked that very question the night you decided to call things off with Brock. You had all but accepted, too. But it was a lot to decide while he was recovering from a beating and still fighting delirium, and the thought of even planning such a thing so soon made you wince.

You tug on his hair so he tilts his head back to meet your gaze. “Ask me again in the morning.”

“What will you say?”

You snicker, trying to swipe away your tears on your sleeve. “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you’ll find out.”

“But… my burritos.” He looks pitiful as he gestures to the plate which he had abandoned on the coffee table.

“Eat. I’m gonna go lay down.”

You take the journal with you into the bedroom you now share with Steve, and change into one of his t-shirts to sleep in. You wait for him to come in, all the while pondering the portrait he insists is who you really are, now. Next thing you’re aware of, the journal is being pulled out from under your fingers as you blink awake to the image of Steve Rogers with his cell phone hovering over your face, as he un-surreptitiously takes a photo of you glaring at him. He looks at the screen and frowns.

“Go back to sleep!” He whispers.

“Can you lay down please?” You yank on his elbow. He flops onto the covers beside you and tucks his good cheek against your shoulder. “You’re creepy,” you yawn. 

“But you’re so cute.” His voice is muffled.

“You’re going to be embarrassed in the morning.” Rolling onto your side, you adjust so both your arms cradle him cautiously, avoiding his poor swollen eyeball. 

“Why? You’re not ashamed of me, are ya?”

Your heart lurches and you kiss his forehead gently. “No. Of course not. I love you.”

“Even when I’m high?” Steve shakes with laughter when you groan.

“Yes, bear. Even then.”

—

In the morning, Steve is appropriately mortified, the more you tell him about his behavior on too much morphine, but at least he can open his eye again. He is so embarrassed, in fact, that he runs down the street to pick you up breakfast from a brunch place you like to make up for it, and forces you to remain in bed in order to eat it. When you’re both settled under the covers again, trading bites of fruit and french toast, you lean your head on his shoulder in contentment. Some of that time is spent inspecting his most recent portrait of you in the light of day, and marveling again at how he managed to capture the uncapturable.

“Hey,” he whispers, pointing at you with a slice of strawberry on the end of his fork. You look up at him in question and his lips graze yours. He deepens the kiss, sweetly kissing the powdered sugar from your lips. “Can I marry you?” He asks. You smile, nodding just once. Steve brushes your cheekbone. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you are.”

He kisses you with a nod himself, and then leans over to open his bedside table drawer. “I, um. I asked my ma for the ring a while ago. But if it doesn’t fit you, then we can find something else.”

“Okay.”

The reality of sharing breakfast and a bed, and sweet kisses with your best friend while he asks you if you’ll marry him settles over you like a warm blanket, and the sweetness intensifies when he produces an octagonal box. He rests the box on your knee and waits. 

“I should wash my hands,” you breathe. He rolls his eyes and tugs your left wrist into his lap. He thumbs the latch open.

“Do you remember meeting my grandma?” he asks.

You do, distinctly. She was a doe-eyed glamorous woman who had taken one look at you in the Rogers family living room at Christmastime and gushed over you. You smile. “She was so sweet,” you say.

“She loved you. I think she would’ve been so happy to see this on your finger, sweetheart. As I will be. May I?”

“Yeah.” Your heart races as he opens the lid, revealing the very ring he described to you one week prior, garnet and all. Elaine’s initials are ingrained in the band just as he said. And it slides right onto your finger so perfectly, it could have been made for you. 

He breathes out slowly. “Holy shit, bug,” he says in awe. You laugh.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna make every dream I ever had come true.”

“Awe.” You carefully set your takeout container on your bedside and then throw your knees over his legs so you can be as close to him as possible. He hugs you tight. When your fingers thread into his messy morning hair, he sighs. “You’re gonna make new dreams with me, bear.”

“I like the sound of that.” He rubs your back. You snuggle up to his chest and listen to his heart beating.

“Wonder what Brock brought,” you ponder out loud. 

Steve snorts. “Just a bunch of your clothes. And the mug I got you for your birthday.”

You sit back in surprise. “Oh! All that was worth punching you for?”

“Pssh. I bought that boot mug in the Dallas airport, when you were devastated I wasn’t gonna make it back for your birthday. It’s obviously very precious.”

“Thank god he returned it,” you snicker. “How ya feeling, slugger?” He allows you to gently palpate the area around his stitches, but he winces the closer you get to his cheekbone bruise.

“Fine… I called him while I was out.” He winces again at your shocked frown. “I know–”

“You didn’t let him off the hook.”

“No, no. I told him I’d send him my hospital bill.” Steve touches your chin. “And that I won’t press charges, as long as he takes your name off whatever bills you were on, and leaves you alone.” You blink at him. He laughs. “I know. I’m also surprised with myself.”

“I–he wouldn’t put anything under my name,” you say softly. “You’re gonna have to put me on your lease!”

“Would you like that? If there’s mail addressed to both of us?”

“Yeah. Bear?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you. Even when you’re high and loopy, and I still would even if you had let Brock off the hook.” You kiss his brow, just above his stitches. “I love that you’re kinda a creep–”

“Is this you practicing your vows, or…”

You doff his shoulder. “I just want you to know, okay?”

“I love you, bug.” 

Your shared kiss speaks deeply of the relationship from whence this arrangement was born, and the inevitability of spending your life with the one person who gives it meaning. There’s a new type of intimacy with it, even deeper than skin and touch. Deeper than the first night you spent with him, sharing bodies in a way that both of you had yearned for for so long that it felt sacred. 

Steve pulls back from you when air becomes a necessity. He inspects the ring on your finger with a peaceful smile, and then his gaze darts up to meet yours. He narrows his eyes.

“Did you buy me like twenty-five chicken burritos last night?” he asks incredulously. You laugh until your stomach hurts.

–

thanks for reading! :)

Kate’s masterlist - Marvel Masterlist

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

[cricket-reader]

hii!! love your writing its intoxicating!!! idk if you’ve seen the movie Easy A (if not DO IT!!! its on Netflix) but if you have i was thinking a fem (or gn if youre more comfortable with it) reader x bucky fic thats along that line where reader is like Olive and bucky is like Todd? maybe lots of angst/fluff/smut or whatever this prompt takes you. honestly anything as long as it has bucky comforting reader through whatever you choose? again if you havent seen then feel free to ignore this and thankya!!!

Easy A

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox | Taglist

Summary: after a truly awful date, you are comforted by Bucky. (High School AU)

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, non-con kissing (not Bucky), Brock Rumlow being a prick, fluff

Word Count: 3,470

A/N: Sorry it took so long. It took a while to find inspiration, but here it is! I hope this lives up to your expectations 💕💕

How could life get so messed up?

You find yourself asking this question a lot lately. It was a simple rumour. Something that you could should have stopped—no, prevented.

In fact, you could have prevented all of this. So in hindsight, this is all your fault.

That doesn’t mean, however, that you deserved this… right? Sure, some people probably definitely thought you did. What, being the campus whore? The virgin slut.

It was a simple white lie. But it grew into something so much bigger. Something you could never outlive. Rumours spread fast. Especially on a campus. Almost like the wildfires along the west coast.

Despite never having sex in your life or even having your first kiss, you were the sluttiest, dirtiest, whore out there.

Whilst all that isn’t true, you sure felt dirty. It seemed as though everyone believed the rumours. Sure, you had done nothing to dispute them. If anything, you only encouraged them. That was just you being stupid, you realise that now. Despite all of that, you wished that someone could look through the stupid lies. Because everyone had to be idiots to believe them.

Thinking back on it, this all could have been avoided. If you didn’t tell your former best friend that lie, none of this would have ever happened. It was the snowball effect, and it had grown out of proportion.

It only truly hit you in the face when Brock Rumlow tried to make a move on you.

You didn’t put it past him to believe that you were really a whore. He was quite daft. Regardless, when he asked you out, you had foolishly believed that he liked you for you; not for your fake self. He took you out to eat at the fairly nice seafood place in town and everything. You should have known that it wouldn’t end well.

It started off fine. You both made small talk and ordered drinks and food. Then you saw Bucky. He was the guy you had liked for a long time, not that anyone besides your old best friend knew that.

He was singing a cheesy happy birthday song with his colleagues. You giggled at the sight, not expecting such a serious guy to do something like that.

It all went downhill from there.

You panicked when you saw your former friend, Sharon Carter, sitting at a table across the room. You knew that Sharon has had her eyes on Brock Rumlow for a while—since first grade to be exact. It evaded your mind until you saw her. You knew then and there the mistake you had made.

Even if she was no longer your friend, you felt horrible. Sure, she hadn’t been too friendly to you after all the rumours and lies spiralled out of control, but you were better than this. Surely there was some sort of girl code about this kind of thing, right?

“Shit… shit, shit!” you mumbled.

“What’s wrong?” Brock asked, confused at your sudden change in demeanour.

“Sharon is over there!”

“So?”

You huffed. “She’s been in love with you since the first grade.”

“And?”

“She’s my best friend.”

“I thought you two weren’t speaking anymore.”

“We’re not, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not my best friend or that I should be out with you.”

Brock frowns. “Her and I don’t have anything in common.”

“And you and I do?” This was such a bad idea. That was the mantra playing on repeat in your mind. This was a horrible, terrible idea.

“Yeah.” His voice wavered, cracking a bit. You could see his brain scrambling to come up with anything.

“Like what?”

“Like… I hate Kae too.”

You rolled your eyes. Kaecilius. The man that hated you from day one—ever since one of his Zelots—what they called themselves—overheard you talking to Sharon in the bathroom. A religious self-centred prick that thought his ways were better than everyone else’s. Nobody’s liked him.

You scoffed, “If that’s our connection, I should just date the entire school.”

“Haven’t you?”

That right there. It should have been a warning to you. But you just shook your head, brushing it to the back of your mind to focus on something more important: getting out of there undetected.

Before even eating your food, you managed to convince Brock to leave. It wasn’t soon enough because Sharon saw you. Alone with Brock. On a date.

The betrayal on her face hit you like a punch to the stomach. What even was your life anymore?

You both rushed out of the restaurant. Tears were threatening to escape from your eyes, but you willed them away.

“I’m sorry about that,” you apologised, walking to the car. You opened the door to get in, but Brock shut it before it even got halfway open.

“Uh, I’ve got something for you.”

You tilted your head, hoping it was something romantic.

He flicked up an orange gift card. “Two hundred dollars to The Home Depot,” he said with a big smile on his face.

Your face crumpled in confusion before the realisation set in.

This wasn’t a date. No. Of course, it wasn’t. Not really. It was a way to get you to–

“Bam,” he said, all smug. As if he has done something.

“I didn’t realise this was a–“ Now the tears really were starting to form. You didn’t listen as he explained himself. You didn’t care enough to hear what he had to say. You didn’t care because once you finally thought someone had shown an interest in you, it blew up in your face. Hell, maybe you’ve deserved it. Going along with all these rumours. It was bound to bite you in the ass one way or another.

You took a breath, resolving yourself to all the age old question. “So what did we do on this date?”

“Whatever two hundred bucks gets me.”

And with that he leaned in, grabbing your chin to push his lips against yours.

Warning signs flared in your mind. Just what the hell did he think he was doing? You pushed him away. “That’s not really how it works,” you tried to explain.

He wasn’t hearing it. “It’s okay,” he muttered before closing the gap again. You hit his chest, trying to get him off of you.

“Stop!” you cried out, so fucking done with today. “I’m not really having sex with people for money. I’m saying I’m having sex, but I’m not having sex for money.”

You didn’t know what about your explanation was lost on him. How he could listen to that and still continue, maybe he just wasn’t listening in the first place.

He leaned in again, trying to reassure you. And yet again you pushed him away. “Stop! No, no! Stop!”

“What? Come on just relax, babe. It’s alright.”

It was as if he didn’t hear you the first million times you said it. It was as if you didn’t repeatedly push him away. Or maybe he was just dumb enough to continue pursuing you when you clearly didn’t want it.

Whatever the case was, you didn’t care.

So, yet again, you pushed him away. His back hit the car, and you walked away.

“Come on, this is bullshit! I paid you.”

You turned on your heel and flicked the card back at him. “Well now you didn’t.”

He yelled after you, upset that he didn’t get what he wanted. Tears began trickling down your face.

You heard your name being called out, a familiar, friendly voice. You turned around to see Bucky, white button down and all, walking towards you.

“Bucky… hi,” you couldn’t hide the way your voice wobbled even if you wanted to. You saw his fists clenched as he watched Brock’s car skirt away.

“Hey, you alright?”

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

He frowned, not believing you for a second. The moment you walked in with Rumlow, he was angry. Be it jealousy or knowing you deserved so much better than that prick–probably both—he hated watching you two together. It was wrong.

“You sure?” Bucky frowned. He hated seeing you cry. Especially over some jerk that didn’t deserve you in the first place.

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. This day has been so awful. You just wanted to go to your warm bed, curl up and cry. If god took any liking to you, you wouldn’t wake to see the next day. But why would he after all you had allegedly done?

“I uh, just got off my shift. If you uh needed a ride home,” Bucky offered.

Despite the fact that you had just been harassed by a guy you foolishly thought you could trust, you put your trust in this one. You just hoped Bucky was better. You had no reason to be weary of his offer. He had been nothing but nice to you even when the rumours and lies began their torrent on your life.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nah, plus my ma would kick my ass if I left you here alone.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he chuckled. It was adorable. “Or my sister, or Steve’s ma. Hell, even Steve would try to beat me up.”

Now that was an image. Tiny, little, asthmatic Steve trying to beat up bulky, tall, strong Bucky?

You giggled in spite of yourself. Bucky always seemed to know just what to say.

You both climbed into Bucky’s car before he took off. It was silent for the most part, letting you think back to everything that had happened today.

You watched Bucky as his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. His mouth was set in a heavy frown, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“What’s up, Buck?” You tried your best to sound like Brock’s actions hadn’t bothered you as much as they had.

He sighed, glancing at you for all but a second. He rolled up to a red stoplight and used that moment to look you in the eye.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Hmm? Oh, Brock? No, no, no. Not physically anyway.”

His eyes searched your face. He was clearly distraught. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?”

“I didn’t get out there soon enough, if I just got outta there sooner he wouldn’t have… and you wouldn’t have had to–”

“Light!” you nudged him.

“Right! Sorry.”

“And hey, it’s not your fault, Bucky.”

Bucky’s knuckles were white as snow. He was clenching his jaw so hard, you worried he might damage his teeth. “He wouldn’t listen to you. You said no. Multiple. Times.”

Your heart ached because you knew Bucky wasn’t going to let this go. Because he actually cared. His eyes stayed on the road, and you were surprised the asphalt didn’t spontaneously combust into flames with the ferocity behind his glare.

“But I got away, I’m okay.”

“And what if you didn’t, huh? What if I was too late? You deserve so much better, you hear me?”

You didn’t even realise he was staring right at you until you looked back at him. You were stopped at a stop sign. With no one behind you, he didn’t feel any need to keep driving.

His face morphed into pure horror as the tears began rolling down your face. You looked away from him again, to your lap this time.

“‘M sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and laughed. What even was Bucky Barnes? And why the hell was he always so inherently good?

“Bucky,” you sniffed, “I’m not upset about you yelling. I’m… It’s just… you, you care? About me?”

His brows furrowed. “Well, of course I do. You’re a great person. Your sweet and smart—”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Come on. You’ve heard the rumours, James. You aren’t living under a rock and you’re not stupid.”

“Exactly, so I’m not stupid enough to believe the lies being spread around. What I can’t seem to figure out, however, is how you got mixed up in all of this.”

“It’s a really long story.”

Bucky shrugs, “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

That is how you and Bucky ended up on top of a nearby cliff, sitting on the hood of Bucky’s car, eating snacks you got from a gas station. You told him most of the details to your unfortunate series of events that led to this moment. Bucky only stopping you every once in a while to ask questions or make threats to anyone that he claimed deserved it.

You felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders. The best part of it was, you actually thought that Bucky believed you. He held no judgement and was a total sweetheart the entire time—well, besides the times when he teased you. But even then it was all in good fun.

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the guy that was a complete teddy bear once you peeled back his intimidating layers. He was a good man, through and through. Nothing and no one could take that away from him.

When you finished, you leaned back to look at the stars. “If I ran away and changed my name, would you come with me?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know if that’s the best course of action to take.”

“What else can I do, Bucky? You’ll be the only person that believes me!”

“Maybe I’m the only person that needs to.”

“Yeah, right. What if my supposed sex life gets passed around so that everyone knows about it. Employers? Schools? The government? I’ll be screwed!”

“Why would the government care?” he guffawed.

“I don’t know, okay! Stop laughing at me, you jerk! This is a serious crisis.”

“Okay, sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s hard to believe you’re sorry when you’re still laughing.”

He calmed down enough to stop his laughter. “Look, you and I both know this won’t go away overnight. You did dig yourself into a pretty deep hole. I don’t know how we’re going to fix it, we just will, okay?”

“Okay, and what’s in it for you?”

He hummed, taking his eyes off of the stars to look at you. “Well… I get to help you. Maybe I’d get to spend more time with you too.”

“And why would you want that?” You look down at him, surprised to find him staring back at you.

He shrugs before looking back at the sky. “You’re pretty cool.”

“Mhm, and did you make this assessment before or after all these rumours started?”

“Way before.” He looks back at you. “Maybe that night I wasn’t ready for my first kiss. The night you covered for me, and you didn’t get anything out of it. You just did it out of the goodness in your heart.”

“I… didn’t think you’d remember that…”

“Of course, I remember. I’m practically kicking myself right now for not actually kissing you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He hummed his agreement. Your heart beat faster as his eyes dropped to your lips only momentarily. If you had blinked, you would’ve missed it.

He cleared his throat and got up. You followed after him, frowning as he took a deep sigh. “What’s wrong?”

He looked back at you, anguished. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m trying to do this right, y’know. I don’t want to pressure you or anything and this is all wrong.”

“I’m not following,” you cut his ramblings short.

“I’ve… I’ve liked you for a long time… I just didn’t say anything because… well, as Steve put it, I’m too chicken shit.” He chuckled. “I should’ve done it sooner, I guess.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You were speechless. You wondered just how different your life would be if he had confessed sooner. The fact that he felt anything for you at all was… it was… you didn’t even know.

“God, this is the worst possible time to tell you. I’m such an idiot! I’m so sorry, just forget I said anything.”

“What… what if I like you too?”

Bucky froze. All of him hoped that would be your response. Truly. But he didn’t want to take advantage of you. You had just gotten done with what was probably the shitiest date of your life. You had been ostracised by everyone else. And he was the only one who held an olive branch to you. It wasn’t fair to you.

“I… I can’t… not in my right mind would I ever dream of taking advantage of you like this.”

Your face twisted. “Take advantage? Bucky, how can you take advantage of me if I like you back?”

He sighed. “You’re not thinking straight. I’m just the first guy who wasn’t a complete dickwad to you, so naturally you would like me.”

“Bucky, stop. I have liked you… for a lot longer than I care to admit. This isn’t me being desperate for any positive human connection. I genuinely like you.”

He bit his lip, looking so conflicted it hurt. You wanted to ease his worries. He shouldn’t feel that way. Not when you truly cared about him and have for a while. You’d like to think you deserved something good in your life. And if that good just so happened to be named Bucky? Well… who were you to deny it?

You advanced toward him, looking into those pale, stormy blue eyes. He said your name, a warning tone lying underneath every syllable.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I won’t push any further,” you murmured. You were so close to him you could feel the heat from his furnace-like body. He stared into your eyes, thinking about how damn lucky he was to have such a beautiful view tonight.

“You sure you want this?” Bucky just had to ask. He needed to be sure. He didn’t even know what this was. It could be just a simple kiss, maybe a one-night stand, or, if he dared to hope, a relationship. Whatever it was, he would take it. He would be grateful for the chance to hold you, to kiss your lips and maybe more.

“Have I not made it clear enough yet?” You smirked at him. Bucky’s tongue wet his lips, a moment you traced with your eyes. He was gorgeous.

His hands cupped your face as he leaned in. You both closed your eyes as your lips met. You let him take the lead, not one hundred percent certain what you were doing.

Most people when looking back on their first kiss, regale about how horrible it was. How awkward it was and how terrible it panned out.

You were not most people.

It was easy to follow Bucky’s lead as his lips moved against yours. You hoped you were doing good with your first kiss. You hoped he liked it. Because you really liked being kissed by him.

When you broke apart for air, you opened your eyes to see him grinning like a love-sick fool. It was so endearing that you pulled him into another quick kiss.

“I never thought I’d get to do that,” Bucky murmured against your lips. They were still held in an impossibly adorable smirk that made your insides melt.

You knew right then and there, you wanted him to be your first. Your first everything. Your first kiss, your first real date (because you sure as hell weren’t counting the shitstorm from earlier as your first date), your first boyfriend, your first lover.

“I really like ya, doll. Maybe we should do this again sometime?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “maybe I can skip the awful date next time though.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind… next time you could have a nice date. With a pretty nice fella if I do say so myself. He can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he’ll treat ya right.”

You smirked. “‘S that so? Maybe I’ll just have to go on that date and see for myself.”

He smiled even wider. You didn’t think it was possible. “Really? Does that mean you’d wanna go on a date with me?”

“Yes, you buffoon. I thought you were supposed to be a lady’s man.”

“Hey now,” he chided, “weren’t we just having a conversation about how awful rumours could be?”

You chuckled with him as he pulled you into his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss into your hair.

“I think we should get back before my parents send out a search party.”

He laughed and agreed. Bucky drove you back to your house. Instead of curling up and crying in your bed, you ended up smiling like a lovesick fool until sleep overcame you.

Bucky Taglist: @harleycao @hallecarey1

#marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers angst #avengers fluff #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky angst #marvel cinematic universe #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader

[nekoannie-chan]

Fractured

Title: Fractured.

Fandom: Marvel, X-men, Captain America.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Mutant!Reader.

Rating: Teen.

Word count: 682 words.

Warnings: Mention of characters death, interrogation.

Summary: You discovered Brock’s past.

A/N: This is my entry to @multifandom-lover​, Annie-1018 & square 2:

"I used to be a sweet kid."

You can read it on Wattpad & Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie​

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817   @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum  @caplanbuckybarnes  @hallecarey1  @nana1000night @talia-rumlow   @mylifeispainandiloveit  @writingshae @azulatodoryuga   @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted  @chemtrails-club    @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit​

Brock kept the small locket with your photo; no one but him knew of the existence of that object. That day, maybe it would be his last mission, his last chance to see you. He had a feeling about what would happen, although he could not discern whether it would be good or bad.

He loves you, and he knew that you loved him too, but neither of us dared to take the first step, nor would he forget the look on your face when you discovered who he really was.

He cursed when Steve forced him into the vehicle; indeed, the mission had not gone as he had planned. He knew what would happen, but he would manage to escape.

He had always liked interrogations, but he preferred to carry them out and not be asked the questions himself.

He was sure that Rogers would be the one interrogating him, so he would do everything he could to make him mad and not get any answers. Steve had ruined his life.

Twenty minutes before the door opened, Brock settled into his seat, though he was suddenly confused when he saw you come in instead of Steve.

"It's been a long time," you said, looking at him.

"I can explain," Brock commented, pretending to be disinterested. He wasn't going to let you realize that you had surprised him; he was completely sure that Steve wouldn't miss the opportunity to get information from one of his enemies.

"What are you going to explain to me, Brock? Why were you trying to steal a highly dangerous substance? Or why were you part of HYDRA? " you scoffed.

"Whatever you want, although I guess you're more interested in knowing the former, I guess you're going to record it." Brock's voice sounded sarcastic.

"No one knows I'm here; in fact, no one suspects it, so no cameras," you commented.

Yes, you had used your powers for that; no one would notice that you were talking or anything that happened there. You could even be there for hours and they wouldn't notice it; in reality, it would only be less than a second.

"I know you like me," he said suddenly.

"You don't know anything, Brock."

"I know how you feel about me; I know what you thought about me that day; I saw everything in your eyes; I know too many things... "

"Don't try to be funny, Rumlow; I didn't come here to talk about that," "you said.

"I used to be a sweet kid."

"What? "

"I had a good childhood; my father was military, kind of strict, but still. You know, sometimes things happen for a reason; I didn't expect to be an orphan at sixteen."

"Did that make you what you are now? Is that how you justify everything you've done? "

"Not exactly, but that's how I ended up in the HYDRA facility."

Brock kept telling you everything that had happened in his life as you tried to decipher his intentions. In the end, he was right; you were in love with him, but you needed to know what his plan was. Anyway, it seemed like it was a forbidden love, but how many things hadn't you already done in hiding from the organization?

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"As soon as you said it, I realized, we're not in the cell at the base, are we?"

"Do you really care where we are?"

"No, of course, we could do other things," Brock suggested suggestively.

You smiled. They wouldn't do anything there, but somewhere else.

"Don't worry, I'll show you the plan later, but in the meantime, you must be ready; at any moment, I'll take you out of here," you told him.

Before Brock could say anything else, he was already alone in the room again; however, this time he was smiling. He was going to get out of there, and in the best way possible, with your help.

He looked up when he heard the door open again; this time it was Steve, so he smirked.

#multifandom-lover #brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brockrumlow #brock fanfic #brock rumlow fanfiction #mcu brock rumlow #mcu crossbones

[frostironfudge]

Silhouettes In the Spotlight - Bucky Barnes - Eleven

Summary: Bucky Barnes has worked immensely hard to have a filmography expanding across genres and garnering accolades from critics, peers and fans. Y/N Y/L/N, with her debut novel (fan-fiction turned New York Times Bestseller) has two other best sellers under her belt. Next is her highly anticipated fourth book lined up for release. SHEILD Productions has acquired the film rights to her debut novel and they want Bucky Barnes to play the lead (aka himself) by any means necessary. This story is about angst, lust, heartbreak, and love. After all fairytales only exist in books and movies right?

Warnings: angst, swearing, it continues discussion of the non consensual things that occurred in the previous chapter also assault of other characters is discussed, where in they describe what they went through at the hands of the same abuser, forced drug use, manipulation, please proceed with caution while reading, minors dni, the first scene describes another person going through a similar ordeal but nothing explicitly described, there is fluff in the chapter too.

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || AO3

Chapter Ten|| Chapter Twelve

HEADLINES:

HYDRA Launches Media Outlet – Print and Digital ‘HYDRA Now’

Alexander Pierce Elated To Be Involved In Delivering News In A Robust Honest Way

Ratings For ‘HYDRA Now’ On Uprise Compared To Other Outlets

Meet Sharon Carter Struggling Actress Turned Assistant Turned News Anchor.

‘Alexander Pierce Is The Most Kind, Noble Man.’ Gushes Sharon Carter.

Former SHIELD Employees Quit. Struggle To Find Jobs Elsewhere.

Brock Rumlow On GQ Cover Speaks On ‘How His Uncle Gave Him The Platform But He Forged His Own Tools For Success.’

The white little pill bubbles as it is poured into the golden liquid. Sloshing in the glass carried over to eager lips. 

Brock watches as Alexander quells his thirst, the pictures being taken. When his uncle took him in, he went through this safety net. 

NDAs and contracts can only do so much for a man being accused. His uncle taught him well. The pictures are placed upon an encrypted drive. Brock seals an envelope writing the author’s address as directed. 

This warning would shut Y/N up. Though she had been laying low for the day, not a peep online or any articles about her. Y/N needed a reminder. 

“Is it done?” Alexander pushes the woman away from him, she still clambers onto his lap, giggling. 

“Oh yeah, this is ready to be dropped off.” Brock gestures to the envelope. 

“Good, we need her to be compliant, we cannot have her leave the publishing house. She is one of the biggest authors we have in our roster. HYDRA will rise to be one of the most accomplished and decorated houses of Hollywood.” Alexander takes another sip of his laced drink, humming at the taste. 

“I suggest we send Rogers and Barnes a reminder as well. If this woman goes to public, they need to be forced to be on our side.” He clicks his tongue. 

“I don’t think they’d pick her over the green in their pockets.” Brock raises a sceptical brow. 

“Love makes people do stupid things, Brock. Why do you think I had to get Dolores away from you?” He looks at his nephew, tiredly as if to remind him they have been over this before. 

Brock controls his response, just giving a curt nod, “Thank you.”

“Now why don’t you take care of this young lady while I rest.” Alexander stands as the woman falls on the sofa, dazed and laughing at the world swirling around her. He leaves footsteps echoing on the smooth Italian marble. 

Brock steps into the office and retrieves the necessary gifts for Barnes and Rogers, heading towards the foyer handing the envelopes to the security who would know what is to be done. 

Grabbing the woman he takes her towards the garage, where a taxi waits to take her back to the address they know. 

Steve’s hands shake as he spots the envelope left on his doorstep. Immediately he calls Bucky, they used to get these in synchronised timing. 

“Did you get one too?” He skips the pleasantries. 

Bucky stares at the envelope, swallowing down the lump in his throat, “I did.” He affirms. 

“Do you want to come over?” Bucky questions, wanting to sink into the floor. 

“Open it together.” Steve agrees, grabbing the envelope and heading back towards the parking lot. 

When the line cuts, Bucky does sink to the floor. The ominous envelope was on his doorstep as he returned from your apartment. 

He lifted it with his gloves on, placing it on the kitchen island. Alpine keeps her distance as well from the envelope as though knowing it holds the vile shit that he was put through. 

Bucky’s phone rings and he looks down at your picture overtaking his screen. 

“Feather.” He finally breathes, you sniffle. 

“What's wrong?” He sits up, spine straightening as dread fills him. 

“After, after you left, there was a knock.” You recount as the pictures fall onto your bed from your hands. 

“James it’s, it’s the pictures from, from… that night.” you close your eyes, hot tears brimming over. Scalding your cheeks. 

Bucky stands, shoving his envelope into a bag, putting the harness on alpine and her lead. 

“Put them back in the envelope and don’t look at them. I’m heading over, Steve will be there too, is there a thumb drive?” Bucky’s question has your chest clenching in pain. He’s been through this before is a sickening realisation. 

“How many times has he done this to you?” You ask, hating the way he’s silent. 

“Feather, I don’t want to add onto—,”

“James.” You plead.

“It’s more than counting on your fingers.” His admission burns in his chest and your veins. 

“Don’t plug in the thumb drive into your computer, don’t look at the photos anymore okay? I’m on my way over.” He fills the silence as you stare down at your palm, the lines on your hands blurring as more tears form. The call cuts off. 

Bucky takes the stairs with Alpine, she senses the urgency and trots down them with ferocity. 

He texts Steve to meet at your apartment. The walk to your wing of the complex is quaint, Sam having tipped paps off to be at his “front” gym so they could get peace and quiet. 

Entering the code for your building Alpine moves towards the elevators and meows at them. He admires her momentarily then calls for the elevator. 

When he texts you to open the door your appearance is still distraught. Bucky wants to whisk you away from everything, your eyes are puffy yet again. 

Your bottom lip quivers, then you look down at Alpine, she chirps at you and you lose it all. 

Enveloping her in your arms as you cry and she begins her purring to soothe you, Bucky’s embrace joins in after the click of your door, you clutch onto his arm. He kisses the top of your head. 

Half an hour later you’re still curled against him on your couch. Steve looks at the pictures with clenched teeth. As the pictures progressed Bucky could hear the conversation matching the images, he had his fists clenched, the vibranium whirred loudly. 

Alpine was in your mom’s room napping next to her feet.

They opened their own envelopes, a blank expression masking their faces, the reminders of those blurred nights haunting them. 

Bucky worries when you look at the pictures, but your eyes trace over his manipulated youth with sorrow. The women wrapped around young men who thought this was normal. That it was okay to be so lost in the haze of smoke and mirrors. Who didn’t know any better.

You're sick to your stomach when their pictures with Alexander come up. It isn’t staged like yours were, he actually touched them. He forced himself on them. 

It worsens when you reach the pictures of them together Alexander caught pictures of both of them in compromising positions with each other.

Steve shifts his blue eyes to you, his lips pressed to a thin line. Mind swirling at what would you think of them. He already was on thin fucking ice with you. He shifts his eyes to Bucky, who is staring at him harbouring the same worry.

“Were the two of you drugged too?” You ask first, heart shuddering in your ears.

“We don’t remember much of those nights.” Steve admits in confirmation, “It won’t matter, the two of us had the whole party boy persona going for us, clubbing, alcohol, recreational relaxing drugs…” he trails off looking to the side.

Your jaw clenches, fists formed on your thighs. You wanted Alexander to pay, you wanted him to rot in the depths of hell.

“He told us, if pictures of Steve and I got out, it would hurt our reputations, the comments, losing our main fanbase of women, the dark party prince and the fun times maestro.” Bucky points at himself then Steve, “We remember flashes, him pushing me down. Forcing himself on us, I remember him saying, whoever gets him off better gets the better role.” 

Your eyes close, bile rising to your throat at the vile shit the two of them were put through. 

“But we got smarter after a while, our contracts got better at protecting us, we stopped drinking what he gave, and carried our own mini bottles.” He sighs, the torment flashing through his eyes.

“We didn’t even realise we were fooling around, too far gone into the happy drugs and new money.” Steve gives a humourless laugh, “The fans picked up on our behaviour changes, we got less interactive, interviews were clipped. I almost checked into a mental health facility.” 

Your lips part, “Why didn’t you?” 

“Golden boy goes to rehab.” Bucky shakes his head, “How will it look? The best of the best, crippled by his own mind?” He quotes the old headlines.

“Dark prince of partying spotted outside a prominent mental health clinic – is he losing his edge?” Steve quotes too.

They exchange a glance.

“It went to shit at the movie during which I lost my arm.” Bucky explains, “We both wanted to quit.” He admits.

“We even had contingency money arranged between us, brand deals, we worked ourselves to the bone.” Steve sighs, “Any show, any advert, any movie, we didn’t care, we just wanted out. Wanting out meant paying off SHIELD. Essentially buying our freedom.” 

“Then the fights happened between us when stress got too much, I told him he needs a breather.” Bucky runs a hand through his hair, “He was working himself to the bone, stunts were sloppy.” 

“It was a buddy cop movie, think sort of Rush Hour. Alexander pushed us to do our own stunts, so we trained like mad. Best shape of our lives. Bucky was right, I was exhausted. Hopped up on caffeine to stay awake and prescribed sleeping pills to make me sleep.” Steve shakes his head, then gives another laugh, 

“This fucker was doing the same thing.” he points his index finger to Bucky, your eyes follow the movement.

“Asshole figured it out, he still was out of it that day. The stunt was his, but we told the director it made sense I’d do it. Alexander wasn’t there that day of the shoot. We know now that it was predestined to go wrong, as per what he said.” Bucky swallows, vibranium fingers flexing and gleaming in the sunlight through the blinds.

“Everything crumbled, I tried to be there, then we fought more, none of us could get out. Alexander came then, saying I should go to Hydrangeas, they turned my image from party boy to serious guy. Bucky lost out two and half years of work and life. Things soured.” Steve extends his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes.

“Best friends to enemies, he wrote in the book. Divulged shit I trusted him with, SHIELD had a field day throwing me out putting him on a pedestal and then bringing me back. Full sleeves and gloves. Other production houses just made being an amputee into the storyline. Or they would make digital alterations.” Bucky reached for your hand, tracing over the bandaged index finger.

“We could say nothing, do nothing. Unspoken promise was we’d save anyone else from this bullshit, I warned Loki not to sign on as a resident SHIELD creative.” He adds. 

“I warned Ace when they asked while working together on Defending Jacob.” Steve traces over the calluses on his palm.

“You had already signed on, I couldn’t protect you. I thought pushing you away was the key. So I kept my distance, but I couldn’t help myself to be selfish to steal a place within your heart.” Bucky admits with a smile.

“I wanted to piss you off enough that you’d refuse working on the project. Valarie told me you had yet to sign, I didn’t know you already had. Combined with the fact that the two of you were falling in love. Chemistry in elevators off the charts.” Steve rolls his eyes.

Your skin heats recalling the stolen moments. 

“Dickhead.” Bucky throws the pillow.

“Asshole.” Steve throws it back.

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

You laugh at their banter, the two of them smile at you. Elated at seeing you crack a smile. 

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your temple. Steve continues to smile at you. 

Your phone rings and it’s Andy’s text, you look at Bucky and then Steve. The former holds your hand and the latter walks around sitting next to you to offer his support. 

Andy: we’ve got your tox screen result back and other test results, please let me know a convenient time to set up a meeting again. We will meet at any location you deem comfortable. 

Steve and Bucky look at you. Bucky rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. Steve hesitates before placing his hand on your shoulder. 

You only freeze momentarily before realising the person is familiar and safe. 

“I’m sorry.” he begins to retract his hand, you place your palm above his, it had only been twenty four hours but you knew you had to begin to get through this before your mind got the best of you. 

“Steve, you're a friend and you feel safe.” You assure him. He gazes at you then it flickers to Bucky. It is only then he notices that Bucky is worried too, he only touches you when you initiate contact.

You were on a time limit you feared, so you were trying to remind yourself, who were your safe people. Who you could run towards incase of adversity. 

You looked up at Bucky to find his gaze already upon you. 

“It won’t happen.” He says with such sincere surety, reading your mind. 

You believe him. 

You had to believe him.

Turns out when the FBI is involved, you can’t meet wherever you want. Andy is still apologetic, you brush off his look with your own understanding one. 

Steve still glares at his brother on your behalf. You roll your eyes then you realise Bucky is glaring at Andy too. 

“Will you both stop it?” You whisper. 

The camera in the corner seemed daunting. They don’t relent. You suppress another eye roll and look at Andy apologetic on behalf of the two of them. 

Matt moves his hands over the book in front of him, lips moving barely as he reads. 

The door clicks open, two agents walk in one wearing glasses, her curls looking amazing and suit tailored perfectly. She exudes badass energy. 

The man accompanying her is slightly taller, crows feet line around his eyes as he smiles kindly at everyone. His suit slightly dishevelled and he takes another sip from his coffee cup before placing down the manila folders on the table. 

“Hello Ms. Y/N Y/L/N, I am Special Agent Darcy Lewis this is my partner,” he gestures towards him, he waves,

“Special Agent Scott Lang.” He puts his hand forward and you shake it and he moves towards Bucky and Steve also shaking their hands. 

“Executive Assistant Director of Criminal Investigation.” Andy adds, pointing at Darcy, she smiles. 

“She’s trying to be humble, Andy.” Matt chuckles, Darcy laughs. 

“Yes, yes I am.” She takes a seat and you feel at ease at her demeanour. 

“Now, Ms. Y/L/N, is there anyone in this room you want gone? We are about to discuss your case in detail, in case you don’t want someone here to know or see we can have them escorted outside.” She looks at Bucky and Steve. They only look at you. 

“They can stay, I trust them.” You declare, Yelena had decided to remain outside before you could even ask her to come in. 

Loki was going to be questioned when he came in later, already having Bucky and Steve here was enough to draw attention.

Darcy goes through the folders set down by Scott, humming when she reaches the one she desired. 

“Some of these images may be disturbing, they may remind you of what occurred and what you went through. Gentlemen, these may be triggering for you as well. We have a clinical psychologist on standby, please do not hesitate to let us know.” She offers a small smile, the three of you nod. 

Spreading the images out, you feel the wave of nausea. It isn’t the same pictures as Alexander had sent, these are the ones Dr. Cho took, of your injuries. 

Bruised back, cheek bone, and wrists. 

Cut along the bruise on your cheekbone. 

Bite marks on your shoulder. Indents of his teeth. 

You shudder, reaching for their hands. Steve and Bucky grasp your hand each. 

Then the picture of the broken skin along your tattoo. 

Bucky’s gaze hardens and jaw visibly clenches harder, his hold on your hand remains soft, caring, a stark contrast to the rage within him.

“Now, do you remember how you got any of these?” Darcy breaks the silence. 

You reach forward tapping the wrists and cheekbone and tattoo’s images. 

“I remember bits and pieces, I don’t know why. I know Alexander slapped me or backhanded me several times. It was a mix to get me to comply. Brock held down my wrists first because I was moving too much? Then I felt sort of numb? We were on the ground when he took my fingers in his mouth, while he was threatening James and Steve.” Your grip on their palms tightens. 

“It's okay, I know it is hard and you’re doing really well.” Scott gives you an encouraging smile, “We’ll help you understand why your memory feels that way.” 

He takes out another paper from a different folder. 

“This is your blood report, you were administered with a sedative, but you were given a conscious sedation. The water tested came back positive for Rohypnol,” scott concludes. 

Bucky closes his eyes, “He planned it all didn’t he?” 

“Of course he did, he wanted to cover all fucking bases.” Steve seethes, his gaze flickers to Andy as he notes down further points to have their case remain stronger.

“The drug laced water caused your initial bout of delirium, you couldn’t walk properly, the dizziness you reported. Your memory gaps are likely because of it.” Darcy explains looking right at you. 

Scott gestures to the picture of your right forearm, two small puncture wounds. 

“We also found a mix of other sedatives and drugs in your system, which explains the puncture wounds caused by injections. Likely the ones that caused your physical movements to shut down to get you to comply.” Scott taps the paper where the complicated drug name is written. 

“Are you having any symptoms?” He looks up from the paper. 

“Nausea, I threw up a few times last night… Sleep isn't that great either but it hardly has been since the past few weeks.” You shrug, “I can’t stomach heavy food yet, soup and crackers or toast is the way right now, nothing too um cheesy, Bucky tried giving me ice cream, it’s a thing we do on hard days… I cried when I couldn’t stomach that either.” you wince. 

Bucky nods, the memory flashing in his mind he thought you were crying out of panic but the tears came about because a comfort moment you shared with him was ruined. He assured you, he said it would be okay the two of you would be eating ice cream in no time as he held you.

“Understandable it’s been under forty eight hours still, that should pass but it’s better you progress with food over another two days.” Darcy collects the images back, tucking them into the folder. 

Andy places three envelopes on the table, the two agents look at him. 

“They received gifts.” He gestures with his head to the envelopes. 

“Simultaneously, this morning at around eleven.” Matt adds, he tilts his head as they put on gloves and go through the pictures. 

Darcy looks up at Steve and Bucky. 

“You realise these implicate the two of you for illegal substance abuse.” She quirks a brow. 

“We were hoping in exchange for this further evidence to take down our favourite Hollywood biggie, we work out a deal for my clients.” Matt provides a charming smile when Darcy gives an exasperated sigh her eyes narrow into a mini glare. 

“Now, Agent Lewis, I am playing nice and not the devil.” Matt quips, still smug. 

“What are you proposing?” She twists her lips to one side. 

“Full immunity, no charges against them for their substance abuse, yes they were stupid using these drugs before but a major part of it was forced.” Andy places the demand. 

Scott shakes his head, “How do you both still face this asshole?” 

“With a shit tonne of hatred.” Steve says.

“Massive self restraint.” Bucky adds. 

“Put this into processing.” Darcy moves the envelopes towards Scott, he produces a larger evidence bag from his jacket. 

“I dabble in magic.” Scott chuckles seeing your surprise. 

“That's cool.” You say amused, he flicks his wrist and a flower appears, he hands it to you. You laugh. 

“My daughter loves it when I have tricks up my sleeve.” Scott grins as you give a chuckle, “Only she has the best sense of humour.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, Andy kicks him from under the table, the two brothers scowl at each other. 

Bucky catches the exchange, he only smiles looking at the smile gracing your features. 

“I can offer no charges, I, however, require full cooperation.” Darcy looks at everyone, “This case is high stakes, I want this man behind bars as much as you. If you have secrets, know they will come out since we will pry into everything.” She warns.

“You do what you need to, I don’t care if I have to spy on him for you.” Bucky leans forward, “He took from me, I’m not letting him take from her or take her away.” His voice is laced with emotion despite the cold front he’s putting up. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Barnes. However, this doesn’t work easily like the movies.” Darcy taps the table, “He’s declared to harm the two of you in case Y/N blows the whistle on him. Her case is as sensitive as yours, she’s unfortunately got more to lose than a man. Your need for vengeance and justice is understood and felt. He’s a vile man. My team and I will not rest till we get him.” 

“If I may?” Matt requests the floor. 

“By all means.” Darcy offers the floor. 

“I understand the emotional response. I truly do, Agent Lewis is correct in heeding you both not to react emotionally.” Matt’s opened palm gestures to Steve and Bucky. 

Both of them scowl. 

“You need to understand, if this goes south, if he catches a whiff. There is no prediction of his reaction and how severe it will be.” He concludes. 

“Which means no disrespectful comments or egging him on, or any of the other stupidity.” Andy looks at his brother then Bucky. 

They nod. 

“It applies to you too, Y/N.” Andy turns his gaze to you, it��s softer almost reminding you of Steve’s gaze. 

You nod, “Understood.”

“He may ask you to do things for him, to blackmail you. Remember to record these conversations. The state of New York allows recording conversations if one party is consenting.” Darcy informs you.

“Preferably record videos so it proves you are not tampering with evidence.” Scott adds.

You look towards Andy and Matt.

“It’s our best effort to pin blackmail on him.” Matt purses his lips then sighs, “I know you may not agree, you may want to retaliate but know that he is serious about these threats.”

Matt’s words leave a sour taste in Steve’s mouth. He knew first hand Alexander’s warnings should be heeded. 

“We’ll comply.” He says, looking at you and Bucky, “We have to keep her safe.”

“We’re doing this for her.” Bucky’s words have you feeling some type of way.

“And for yourselves.” You remind him.

Steve gives you a half hearted smile, Bucky only looks down at your bandaged hand.

You’re exhausted as you lay in your bed. They made you recount the whole ordeal again. Your fingertips brush over your cheeks, how do you still have tears left? The night was restless; you wondered if asking Bucky to stay over would have helped.

Sighing you make your way to your door then your mum's, you smile seeing her asleep. No marker’s of pain on her face. 

Grabbing your laptop you make your way to the hall then pause blinking at the people sitting and grinning at you. 

Loki, Ace, Steve, Yelena, Natasha, Angel, Sam and Bucky. 

The small table is covered with food, different take out boxes and soda cans, and a laptop is connected to the TV. Brooklyn Nine Nine is lined up to play. You look from the screen to them, tears brimming your eyes. 

“I love you all.” You set your laptop down, they all lunge forward enveloping you in a group hug. 

“We love you too.” Yelena smiles, you beam brightly at her. 

 The group settles into a comfortable rhythm, soft laughter, food being shared. You’re sitting between Yelena and Ace. Loki and Bucky joking around, Steve laughing at their antics. He’s still getting used to Loki being hot and cold but he knows he deserves it. 

When the call button chimes, Natasha and you help your mom on to her wheelchair and bring her out. Bucky switches out to Nailed It pressing play. They fill her plate with food that isn’t spicy and take turns helping her eat. 

You end up taking so many pictures, your heart full as well as your belly. It’s unsaid but you can feel the love of this small family you’ve found amidst the chaos.

Your mother meets your gaze after she looks at everyone laughing along the episode. Dessert was eaten and now a comfortable silence envelopes only broken by the laughter and occasional joke. 

She gives you a beaming smile. Her hand reaches for yours, you grasp it between both of yours, it’s warm, you smile.

“I used to worry, of how I could leave you all alone.” She says misty eyed, you’re about to protest, but she stops you by raising her other hand.

“I used to, then I worried more after your dad’s accident.” She continues then looks around the room once again. Everyone meets her gaze, Steve pauses the episode.

“I see now though you’ve found a family for yourself.” She smiles, “I don’t need to worry anymore.” 

“We’ll take care of her.” Natasha says, the others nod in agreement.

“I know you will, and she will take care of you when you need her too.” Your mother smiles, running her palm over your head.

“She takes care of us all already.” Bucky admits, “You’ve raised her so well.” he praises making her smile.

“You do realise that makes us all your kids right?” Loki grins cheekily. Steve nods, “I agree.” 

“I do think you’re the best mom.” Ace adds, grinning.

“Yelena and I can have the papers drafted.” Natasha laughs when you shoot her a look.

“Oh don’t worry she won’t adopt Bucky.” She teases you, Bucky’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Nat.” He groans as everyone laughs at his expense, he meets your eyes from across the room.

“We’ll make her your mom in some way.” You tease him, hinting at the future you do see. 

“I love you.” He says, making your own cheeks warm.

“I love you too.” You say to him.

Everyone coos at the two of you.

@/godofmischief: [uploads story to instagram]

[story deleted]

@/lokiismybabie: HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK @/ithinkimetbucky LOOK WHAT LOKI UPLOADED THEN DELETED HOLY SHIT.

[ attached screenshot, image from Y/N’s house, Angel, Sam, Loki, Bucky, Y/N, her Mother, Steve, Yelena, Natasha gathered around the couch, smiling at the camera, captioned: ‘we all got adopted today – found family’ ]

@/ithinkimetbucky: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THEY ALL ARE FRIENDS AND HOLY SHIT BUCKY AND Y/N ARE SO CUTE HER HEAD RESTING ON HIS SHOULDER– @/buckymademelikebooks GET ONLINE NOW

@/buckymademelikebooks: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT WAIT IS THAT A CUT ON HER CHEEK OH FUCK?

@/buckymademelikebooksmore: guys my account was deleted @/ithinkimetbucky where did the tweets go?

@/ithinkimetbucky: @/buckymademelikebooksmore girl get on IG DMs lemme explain there what we’re theorising

@.y/nwrites: hi guys, i know there was a picture uploaded by loki it was supposed to be on his private instagram stories and we’ve all been there with the wrong upload lol. The reason I'm coming on is because several people are speculating about several things and I just want to clear up a few things: 

A. I got into a little mishap on the stairs of my apartment complex which led to my injuries, I've been told to rest for recovery. No broken bones so that is great,

B. My found family is taking care of me and mom and we’re so thankful for them,

C. Also thank you to my readers and everyone who messaged to check in on me i’m so thankful for you all as well and as a treat I wanted to release Rhys’ extended point of view of planning the recreation of their first date night together in the same place (basically how he got the flowers) so check your inboxes a link should be there and if not you can sign up to gain exclusive access!

Thank you, I love you all!!!!!!!

@/ithinkimetbucky: @/buckymademelikebooksmore so guess the theory was wrong…

@/buckymademelikebooksmore: i’m so glad she’s okay and has people taking care of her, was so worried sick!

@/buckymademelikebooks: woohoo my account was reinstated!!!!!!!!!

HEADLINES:

Dolores Back In The Cast Of ITIMYIMDO! 

Author Y/N Spotted Outside Since Bombshell Announcement to Support Dolores’ Return

Fans Not Happy About Return Start Petition On Website Again!

Natasha Romanoff and Y/N Y/L/N Spotted Arguing Outside SHIELD Building, The Director Leaves The Author In Tears.

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers Come Together For Charity Marathon, Seems Being Found Family Of Y/N Mended The Friendship.

A.N.: i missed you all! i hope to be more regular in updating, please let me know what you think!

Taglist is Open comment or DM to be added!

Taglist: @stevesmewmew @elle14-blog1 @crazyunsexycool @sebsgirl71479 @pandaxnienke @slutforsexyseabass @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @pandaxnienke @vampire7595

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky barnes angst #bucky is the best #bucky x reader #Bucky barnes smut #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #modern bucky barnes #modern au #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #hollywood au

[avecra]

Deception - 10

summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

pairing: mob!bucky x stark!reader

word count: 4.2k

chapter warnings: references to death, abuse and violence, smut (18+), minor angst that turns into sweet sweet fluff

a/n - last chapter till the epilogue :')

series masterlist // next chapter

Rain still poured endlessly a week later. It was a different pour than that night, where everything had gone awry, the rain that fell from the dark grey sky was firm as it fell in splashes against the streets. Bucky would have normally enjoyed the gloomy weather, but the circumstances he found himself in prevented him from relishing the damp climate. 

His nerves hadn’t seemed to settle ever since the fallout that happened on the state lines between him and Rumlow. Not even as he held your trembling body all the way back to New York, to the safety of your father’s house. 

He wanted to stay with you, even after he carried you into the house, safely placing you in one of the spare rooms as Dr. Banner cleaned out the bullet wound in your side and sedated you for the night, Bucky wanted to stay with you through it all, but there was business he had to attend to.

Even after all of the events of the night, there was still a mess to be cleaned up, questions were raised about an explosion a few miles away from the state line border and of course the first person detectives questioned happened to be you.

The wife of Brock Rumlow had to somewhat be involved with what happened twenty-four hours beforehand, right?

But lo and behold, your father answered all questions for you, standing next to your bed with a gentle hand on your shoulder as he told the detectives the true nature of your relationship with your husband, going into detail on how truly horrible and cruel your husband had been to you. 

There wasn’t a chance he was going to let you take the fall for your husband’s mistakes and affiliation. He would pay millions of dollars to a high ranking police officer than have you suffer the consequence of a life you never took part of. 

Though your father was ecstatic to have you back, having cleaned your old room with fresh sheets and vacuumed carpets, he had given you your space over the past week, only coming into your room to wish you a good morning and good night. You hadn’t had the energy to leave the bed. 

Bucky had tried to reach out, tried to send you at least a comforting text message if not a few minute phone call, but he hadn’t had the chance. Dealing with the fall of Hydra, his closest business inquiries insisted that he pick up Hydra’s former clients. 

But Bucky had thought it was too soon, and there were more important  matters to deal with. He didn’t care about his business affairs at the moment, all he wanted was to be there for you.

You, the woman who had gone through absolute terror the past five, nearly six years, trapped alone in a penthouse with a vile husband and his cruel men. He didn’t even know about the scars you don on your arms. 

As he walked up the damp steps of the Stark household, Bucky lifted his fist, ready to knock, but he felt the familiar weight of the front door key in his suit jacket. He dug into the pockets and pulled out the small bronze key and quickly unlocked the door, quietly making his way inside. 

It was eerily quiet when he slipped inside. The halls were darkened, only light came from the opened door at the end of the hall and with a step, Bucky made his way down the dark marble floors.

Peering inside, he saw Tony sitting at his desk on the phone, quietly speaking into the receiver as his brown eyes raked over the sheet of paper in his hand. Bucky could vaguely hear the conversation, but he picked up the hushed words of sleeping pills. 

Taking a step into the office, Bucky made his way over to the desk and sat down at one of the chairs and took a glance around the room. The usually clean room was in slight disarray, he could faintly catch the glimpse of a death certificate.

The sound of the phone connecting with the landline tore his gaze away from the desktop to Tony, who looked at him with an uneasy stare. 

“Trouble sleeping?”

“They’re not for me.” Tony stuck the piece of paper into one of the drawers of his desk. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past week.” 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been busy dealing with the fallout of Hydra. It’s been hell trying to turn away every fucking client they ever had. Each person offered a higher price than the previous, I tried to get a spare minute, I swear,” A beat of silence passed before, “How is Y/n doing?”

Tony leaned back in his chair, reaching for the glass of bourbon that sat near his computer. “She’s seen better days. I have not gotten her to leave her room, she’s barely left her bed. I think her mind is just in shock from everything that happened.”

Bucky’s heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of you. He so desperately wanted to call you, to check in and see how you were doing, how the bullet wound in your side was healing. He never wanted to leave your side in the first place, but there was business to attend to and he knew deep down that it would backfire on him if he ignored it. 

He could picture you with watery eyes, tear stained cheeks with a dejected look upon your face. He could already see the lump in the mattress.

“You know I should be pissed at you, but surprisingly I’m not,” Tony started, shooting back the rest of his drink. “You knew my daughter was being hurt by that fucking phsyco and was planning on taking him out by using evidence brought by her, that I’m pissed at, and,” He slammed the picture Ward had taken of you hard on the desk. “To wake up to a picture of my daughter with a knife held against her chest makes my blood boil.”

The picture of you stared back at Bucky and he felt sick to his stomach. “Tony, he threatened to kill you. You expect me to just ignore that and go along with my day knowing that?”

Tony scoffed. “Oh, please, boy. You really think anyone can get within radius of me? Rich billionaire philanthropists like me know that men like Brock Rumlow wouldn’t dare to get close to me. Not when I can send half of his men in body bags in just five minutes.”

“You may think that about yourself, but does Y/n?” Bucky questioned, posture straightening as Tony glanced away. “Because she came to me in tears, wondering if one wrong move on her end would make him put a bullet in your head. She was terrified of him killing her only parent for god's sake, I wasn’t about to just ignore her.”

The older man’s eyes softened. “Look, I’m sorry, Tony, I never wanted to go behind your back, but this was something that you shouldn’t have known about. Your protective dad instincts would have only made it more obvious, which would have put her in more danger.”

He opened his mouth to interject, but Bucky beat him to it. “Don’t lie, you would have a hundred guards on the block of her penthouse. Which would have sold her out faster.”

Tony paused for a moment before realization settled in. He had seen this type of settlement thousands of times, but since it was his own daughter caught in the middle? It left a dread in his stomach.

“Well,” Tony leaned forward, setting his elbows atop of his desk. “if it had been anyone else, I would have sent a body bag already. But you, James… I know she’s safe when she’s with you. Your father would be proud of how you handled all of this. I know he would.”

The corners of Bucky’s lips lifted up slightly and he nodded, scratching the back of his neck. Tony glanced down at his watch, his brows furrowed when he glanced at the time. 

“I have a meeting with one of the sergeants down at the station,” Tony gathered his coat and umbrella and stood. “Do you mind staying here with Y/n? She’s been really skittish lately and I don’t want her to think she’s alone.”

Bucky shook his head, jumping to his feet. “N-no, I don’t mind. I can check on her,” he rambled and followed Tony out into the hall. He placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezed gently. 

“You’re a good man, James. George would be proud,” A smile crossed Bucky’s face. “I’ll see you later.”

With a final nod, Bucky watched as Tony made his way out of the house. He stood in the dark hallway for a few more moments before he made his way down the corridor to the kitchen, where he picked a small glass teacup from the cabinets and placed a chamomile tea bag before setting a kettle on the stove to heat. 

Chamomile seemed to be the tea that calmed you down no matter what, he noticed. Ever since you were a young teenager, you always aimed for either chamomile or peppermint, the taste sent comfort throughout your body. 

Bucky had personally never been one for any type of tea, settling on black coffee instead of different tea bags and leaves, but he always made sure there was a stocked box at his house when the two of you were younger. 

Once the tea kettle started to whistle, he carefully poured the steaming water into the teacup, watching a soft yellow color spread throughout the cup. He placed the cup on a small saucer plate and carefully carried it up the set of stairs that led to your room.

There was an unsettling feeling of anxiety course through him as he made his way closer and closer to your door until he stood just outside of it. His hand reached out to grasp the doorknob, but before he could turn the knob, he paused. 

Would you even want to see him? It had been over a week since that fateful night, and on your side of everything, it looked like he had just dropped you off and fled for seven days straight, with no call or text.

But Bucky ignored the thoughts and pushed the door open as gently as possible and peered his head in. The first thing he noticed was how dark it was. The window was filled with condensation from the cold, wet weather raging outside, casting a gloomy grey color over every inch of the room.

He found you sitting at the window still, sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. Your forehead leaned against the cool protectiveness of the glass, and you had your eyes closed, a vice grip around your arms seemed to be the only thing that grounded you.

Bucky cautiously made his way inside and shut the door softly. The clock resounded across the room, causing you to lift your head up from against the window. The skin on your forehead looked irritated from being pressed up against the glass. 

Nothing could have prepared Bucky for the tears in your eyes. 

Your lips were swollen, cheeks tainted with tear marks, and your eyes were filled with unshed tears, distress swimming in the shades of your eyes. You sniffled and wiped the sleeve of your shirt against your nose and cheek, catching all the stray tears that escaped. 

“Hey, sweet girl-”

“What are you doing here?” your voice cut through his, raspy from disuse.

Bucky stepped further into your room and made his way closer to you. He placed the cup of tea on the small stand a few feet away from you and sat himself on the other side of the windowsill, he stretched out his legs and wrung his hands comfortably in his lap. 

The scene reminded him a lot of when the two of you were younger, when you were well into your teenage years when he would bring you a steaming cup of chamomile tea during a stormy day. You would always complain how the humidity fizzed up your hair while the two of you watched old movies.

It felt like eons ago, when it would be just the two of you without any distractions; no school work, no boyfriends or girlfriends, no overbearing parents wondering if a suit or dress would be the right move. 

Just the two of you, together, cuddled under a soft fleece blanket with a variety of snacks spread across your laps. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Where have you been?” your voice tore him out of his mind as his eyes flickered to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I had a lot of stuff to deal with, but I got it all taken care of,” Bucky said softly, scooting closer to you. He watched you bob your head up and down. “I tried to come and visit you, but there was just too much going on.”

Sniffling, you nodded and scratched at the side of your neck. More tears seemed to fill into your eyes the longer you looked at him. You didn’t know why, but the sudden emotions took control over you. 

“What happens now?” you asked meekly. “Do you go back to your normal life without me?” 

There wasn’t an accusatory tone to your voice, but he could of swrn there was a light sadness t it, like he was about to cast you to the side in the aftermath of the fall of his rival.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he stopped scratching the stubble on his chin. “W-what? No, no, of course not. Why-why would you think something like that?”  

Bucky made his way closer to you, scooting across the soft cushions to place a gentle hand on your ankle. He rubbed his hand along your legs as more tears filled your eyes, some spilling onto your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, talk to me-”

“I don’t deserve to be loved by you, Bucky,” you cried, turning away from him to bury your face in your hands. Your shoulders shook with sobs and Bucky felt powerless, watching you cave into the monstrosity thoughts your ex-husband drilled into your head. “I left you without a single explanation, without a single care for almost six years. I never spoke to you, never calle on your birthday, or-or the anniversary of your father’s passing, even though I always promised you I would be there and I wasn’t. I don’t know how you don’t hate me.”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks like waterfalls, and Bucky closed the space between you and crushed you to his chest, holding onto your shoulders for dear life. As if you would disappear at any given moment.

It broke his heart at the thought of him not wanting you in the slightest way. He had practically been in love with you before Brock Rumlow even made himself present in the picture. Growing up together, going to the same schools, taking vacations to the same destinations had made it hard to not fall in love with you. 

He couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have you by his side. You could have sold him to his worst enemy, someone worse than the men of Hydra, and he would still find a way to gravel down at your feet.

He had already lost so much time, he wouldn't dare to lose even more time with you. 

“Nothing on this planet,” he started, gently grasping your chin in his delicate grasp. “would ever make me hate you, Y/n. There is nothing in this universe that would make me loathe you, that would make me banish you from my life. Please don’t think that of me, because it  crushes me to think that I would ever hate you.”

Your teary eyes met his gaze and he wiped away all the stray tears that cascaded down your cheeks. He leaned in and kissed all the tears away, his hand slid from your chin to the bottom of your jaw. 

“I love you so much, Y/n, I would abandon the company my father left me if it meant that I got to be with you,” His free hand found purchase on your waist, fingers slipping under the fabric of your sleepshirt to graze over the bandage covering your side. “How are you healing?”

You shrugged and whispered, “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Just waiting for it to close.”

Bucky nodded and leaned his forehead against yours. “I meant what I said, sweet girl. I love you so much, I just want you to be happy.”

“How can you still love me? After everything I did, after I ignored you?” You whispered against the skin on his cheek. 

“Because it was you who was there for me after my father died, even though I tried to push you away. You were there by my side in the hospital when I got caught in that gun fight, you were the one who helped me with my shoulder. You helped me relax when we took vacations in Romania. You were the one to pull me out of my depression when we started college, midway through spring semester when Dad died. I didn’t deserve it, after how much I pushed you away, but you still came back, didn’t you?”

You meekly nodded. “So allow me to do the same. I have never been or will be mad at you for this. I know you couldn’t reach out to me, that’s why I always asked your father to check up on you for me.”

A smile grazed your lips as he lifted up the sleeve of your right arm and pressed a kiss over the scar on your wrist. The small cigar burn didn’t hurt anymore, Bucky pressed his lips to the raised skin. 

“We’ve lost so much time, Y/n, I don’t want to lose anymore with you.”

“I don't either,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you and I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing down your jaw until he met your lips. He gently nipped at your lower lip, the corners of his own lips formed into a smile against your mouth. 

You placed with the strands of loose hairs at the nape of his neck and sighed into his mouth. The tension from your shoulders seemed to disappear into the air the longer you pressed up against him, the tiger he held you and the more he kissed you. 

You hadn’t been touched like this in years, and if it were entirely possible, you would have melted at his feet. Once his lips connected with the soft sensitive skin of your neck, you nearly melted into his embrace. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and allowed him to carry you over to your bed, where he laid you gently across the soft sheets. He hovered over you and rolled his hips over yours, keeping his lips against your neck.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” Bucky whispered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of you.” 

He trailed kisses from the column of your throat, to your jaw before landing on your lips. You melted into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Wordlessly, you nodded, pulling back to lean your forehead against his. 

“Show me.”

Bucky softly pressed his lips to yours as he gently pushed you to lay down, back against the mattress. He hovered over you, his lips molding into yours while his fingers delicately slid under your shirt. 

Your skin was warm against his cool hands and you could feel his fingers exploring your stomach, tenderly lining over the bandage on your side, gently grazing the bottom of your breasts. You moaned softly when his hand came to cup your breast, his thumb toying with your nipple. 

Your hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, you tugged at the black fabric that covered his broad shoulders. “Off,” you moaned against his lips, and he kept his lips against yours as he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off his shoulders. 

The sleeve of tattoos caught your eye and you found yourself pulling back, wide eyes glazing over his arm. Your fingers trailed along the intricate designs that ran from his wrist to his shoulder, tracing over a design of a marigold, you pressed a kiss to the soft orange petals. 

“I think they’re beautiful,” you whispered as you looked up at him

He pulled away from you to look you in the eye, moving his hands down to the hem of your shirt. Once you gave him a firm nod, he slowly peeled the soft material of your shirt, doing the same with your shorts until you were bare underneath him. 

You could have sworn you saw his eyes light up as they raked over your body. Soft skin adorned with the littlest of scars, he leaned down and pressed a kiss at your collarbone, moving down slowly to plant a wet kiss between the valley of your breasts, a kiss pressed to both of your hip bones before making his way down to your navel.

When he buried his face in between your legs, your fingers immediately crawled to Bucky’s hair, tugging the brunette roots. He kept one hand on your thigh, snaking his fingers against your inner thigh to hold you, and his other hand made its way up to your wrist. Between the pleasure that radiated from your core, you felt him caress the small burn scar on the inside of your wrist, more whimpers and moans escaped your lips. 

Your skin tingled wherever he touched you. Across your stomach, down the side of your waist, the outer skin of your thigh, his touch made you shiver and tremble. You held his hand as he hovered over you again, he dragged his nose across your cheek until he brushed his lips over yours for a second, before pressing harder against your mouth.

Once he sank into you, you nearly saw stars. He slid into you, pausing for a moment to catch your breaths. Bucky looked down at you, the blues of his eyes filled with admiration, he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered against your lips, “I love you so much, sweet girl.”

You lost all breath once he found his pace, you felt his heavy breaths against the exposed skin of your collarbone when he pressed his sweaty cheek against your jaw. He muttered praises in your ear and more breathy moans left your lips when he found his rhythm.

“I love you too, James,” you breathed against his sweaty neck. You felt him smile against your cheek, placing a feather light kiss against the skin there. 

He could feel you start to reach your climax, and he held you tightly, arms changing your sweaty, trembling shoulder. You came with his name on your tongue, leaning your head into his as breathy moans of Bucky bounced off his sweat slicked skin.

With one last breathy exhale, Bucky lowered himself against you, his arms curling tight around your body. He laid his head on your chest His fingers traced over the skin on your hip, the tips of his nails delicately danced across the skin of your leg. You looked down at him and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and trailed your finger down his cheek. 

He looked up at you, cerulean eyes gaping into yours. The beautiful shades of your eyes looked better than he had seen in a long time, no more red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks anymore. 

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

You smiled and leaned your forehead against the top of Bucky’s head, delicately threading your fingers through his hair. You didn’t know if you were ready for anything, but a part of you knew that everything would be okay. Rebuilding not only the relationship with Bucky, but also the relationship between you and your father, you practically had a job lined up at Stark Industries in less than twenty-four hours when you arrived home.

Maybe you needed time, free from a husband that imprisoned you in your own home, from vicious and cruel men who threw taunts and insults at you, you knew there would be a journey until you found yourself again.

But one thing you knew is that you wanted Bucky at your side through it all. 

---

tags 🏷 - @matchat3a @moonlightreader649 @boofy1998 @impala1967666 @emmabarnes @sarcasmoverlordxo

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Round 7 Roundup - Week 7!

It's double sevens (week 7 of round 7), and we have some excellent fills below for you all to check out!

Collaborator: deehellcat Card Number: 7014 Square Filled: R3 - anthropomor-fic Title: A World Where People Like Me Don't Have To Hide Link: Tumblr Pairings: na Word Count: na (moodboard) Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: Shifter Verse, Prejudice, Cat!Tony Summary: In a timeline where shifters are an oppressed minority, Tony Stark struggles to balance his roles as part of a team that defends against their backlash, and a shifter himself.

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Collaborator: illogicalkat Card Number: 7009 Square Filled: K5 - IronDad Title: Movie Night Link: AO3 Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow Word Count: 1041 Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: Meet the parents Summary: It's movie night, and Tony is meeting his daughter's partners.

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Collaborator: trekkingaroundasgard Card Number: 1003 Square Filled: S5 - bed sharing Title: A Bed Big Enough for Two Link: Tumblr Pairings: Tony Stark x GN!Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Mature Major Tags/Triggers: Avenger!reader, mentioned unhealthy coping mechanisms (drinking, medication and substance abuse), established friendship, unspoken feelings, what timeline?, hurt/comfort Summary: After a bad mission, Tony checks in with a bottle of something that effectively knocks you out. He puts you to bed and you ask him to stay the night.

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Collaborator: Sivan325 Card Number: 7020 Square Filled: S4 - Heat Fic Title: Tony Stark Manual Guide of Intimacy Link: AO3 Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Word Count: 1737 Rating: Explicit Major Tags/Triggers: Alternate Universe, Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Tony Stark, Omega Steve Rogers, Pet Names, Top Tony Stark, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Accidental Bonding, Scent Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Deepthroating, Knotting Summary: Tony walked toward the half-naked omega, watching Steve as he dressed, wishing he could remain naked for him.

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Collaborator: endlesstwanted Card Number: 7010 Square Filled: T3 - Karaoke Battle Title: Tony Stark Bingo Mark VII - July Round Robin Link: AO3 Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Word Count: 348 Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: Avengers Family, Miscommunication, Round Robin Summary: After missing an Assemble call, Tony thinks the team has gotten tired of his burning the candle at both ends. Turns out that's not what made things a little tense after all.

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Collaborator: scottxlogan Card Number: 7017 Square Filled: R1 - Sidekick Title: The Quest Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers Word Count: 4488 Rating: Teen Major Tags/Triggers: lternate Universe, Treasure Hunting, Archaeologist Steve, Swearing, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Implied/Referenced Sex Summary: Archaeologist Steve Rogers finds himself in the thick of danger and adventure after teaming up with his former mentor's son and current sidekick Tony Stark to chase down a rare treasure set to unlock all of humanity's mysteries along the way.

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Collaborator: scottxlogan Card Number: 7017 Square Filled: S4 - Dad Tony Title: A Day at the Beach Link: AO3 Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Word Count: 6140 Rating: Teen Major Tags/Triggers: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Single Parent Tony Stark, Minor Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Flirting, Kissing, Innuendo, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Science Bros | Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Head Injury Summary: Tony and Morgan's daddy/daughter day at the beach takes an unexpected turn as the sexy lifeguard Tony has been eyeing rides to Tony's rescue.

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Collaborator: ABrighterDarkness Card Number: 7027 Square Filled: R1 - Body Swap Title: Nowhere Near as Fun as it Sounds Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony & Steve, Tony/Steve Word Count: 3381 Rating: Teen Major Tags/Triggers: Body Swap, Oversensitivity, Enhanced Senses, Minor Character Injury Summary: “You’ve never said anything. At all. To anyone,” Tony blurted, the words and realizations that smacked him straight in the face in the most bizarre way possible. Mid-mission, at that. Terrible timing. But…he felt like this was one of those things he should have somehow already known. Something he’d have somehow already addressed and fixed. And not just because he was the one that was now suffering from the lack of knowledge. “Neither have you,” Steve said, quiet and solemn.

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Collaborator: Faustess Card Number: 7022 Square Filled: A5 - Miscommunication Title: Tony Stark Bingo Mark VII - July Round Robin Link: AO3 Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Word Count: 348 (mine), 1287 total Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: No Archive Warnings Apply; Avengers Tower, Avengers Family, Miscommunication, Karaoke, Love Confessions Summary: After missing an Assemble call, Tony thinks the team has gotten tired of his burning the candle at both ends. Turns out that's not what made things a little tense after all.

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Collaborator: Faustess Card Number: 7022 Square Filled: A3 - Free Space! Title: Crossed the Sky for Love Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark/Thor Word Count: 1145 Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: No Archive Warnings Apply; Stranded, Flashbacks, Rescue, Gentleness, Protective Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark Needs a Hug Summary: Stranded in the middle of nowhere after a mission goes sideways, Tony gives himself a minute to despair before standing back up to fight for survival. This time he's not fighting alone, though.

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Collaborator: Faustess Card Number: 7022 Square Filled: A1 - Picture of Tony talking to Stephen Strange Title: Tony Stark Bingo Mark VII - June Round Robin Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Word Count: 300 (my part); 1330 total Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: No Archive Warnings Apply; Team as Family, Avengers Family, Games, scavenger hunt, Vacation, Round Robin Summary: When Doctor Strange offers the Sanctum Sanctorum up as a getaway location for the Avengers, Tony protests. However, he is swayed when Bucky suggests the idea of a scavenger hunt.

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Collaborator: SomeSortofItalianRoast Card Number: 7012 Square Filled: K4 - Innocent Until Proven Guilty Title: Steve Rogers. Mastermind. Forger. Link: AO3 Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Word Count: 1237 Rating: Explicit Major Tags/Triggers: Bottom Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Hook-Up, Artist Steve Rogers Summary: Steve Rogers is a genius forger who stepped into Nate Ford’s shoes when the man finally retired for the fourth and final time. Tony Stark is the INTERPOL agent tasked with bringing him in, not fucking him in a coat closet.

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#tony stark bingo round 7 #tsb 7 #tsb weekly roundup #tsb week 7

[tarithenurse]

Agent of Hope - Last Chapter

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Two people are having a very good time together (smut). A/N: You’ll find the previous chapters through my masterlist. Thanks for sticking through this, for all the lovely comments and likes and reblogs <3 Still got a lot to learn in terms of writing, so any feedback has been and is of use. Thank you.

28 - Sweet End

Still flying high on a comfortable champagne-buzz, it’s impossible not to feel like you’re in heaven when Natasha trips you onto the bed, straddling you to contain the bounce from the mattress.

“You’re in trouble,” she smirks, already trailing feathery kisses along the clavicle.

Shivers run down to your core because the definition of trouble appears to be the best kind. “What you gonna do? Punish me?”

“Don’t tempt me.” Teeth find your nipple through the few layers of clothes, adding a spark of pain amidst the pleasure Tasha’s hands are doling out in long strokes up and down your body. “You’re grounded until I’m back, that’s for sure.”

The team, including Thor, is leaving to follow up on some of the very convincing leads Brock has given once he was able to talk again. This time it’s somewhere in eastern Europe where they hope to find a Hydra research facility tucked away in a mountainous area with only a smallish city nearby. Not even your bad feelings about the mission have been able to change their mind.

Grabbing Natasha’s face between your palms, you manage to hold her attention for a moment. “Watch out for the girl.”

“I know. We will.” The kiss is sweet and tender with promises beyond anything words can muster while still stealing your breath completely. “But first I gotta deal with…this…one…woman…” the redhead explains, underlining the last words with chaste pecks along the jaw and neck.

It’s not entirely clear when - while undressing each other in between caresses and heat-guided mouths - the Black Widow manages to pull out silk ropes to tie you spread-eagled to the bed, however your reaction is evident as she slides a lazy fingertip from your knee to your folds. I trust you. Natasha knows many kinds of torture, but only one is reserved for you and it’s the sweetest of all, causing your body to ache and thrum with delight even before she has started.

For a moment the playfulness is gone, contained storms locking with your gaze. “You know what to say…?”

“The usual,” you whisper. Rumlow.

It’s never been needed. Natasha treads carefully, slow to push your boundaries out of respect for the past. In fact, most people might not even ensure the safety measures she insist on are in place for what the two of you have tried to so far…but that only makes it more important.

“Good girl.” The crooked smile is back, accompanied with a glimmer in her eyes.

She knows you, knows how to elicit any reaction from the traitorous body of yours. You might as well have “Belongs to Romanoff” tattooed on every limb the way her touch leaves traces of lust behind. Nipples puckered hard, goosebumps dancing the tango across the planes of you belly and along your arms, shivers urging you to roll your pelvis until the Venus mound is cupped by your girlfriend’s palm as she plays in the wetness.

Little sounds of delight erupt from Natasha whenever you manage to graze her shape with your lips or when your suggestions (of what you would do to her if she lets you free) tickle her imagination.

“You keep using your mouth, but maybe for the wrong things?” she purrs.

Elegantly as ever, the heavenly thighs lock around your stretched arms and chest, keeping you steady as she lowers her core towards your face. Never once does she stop what she’s doing to your clit, she only has to lean forward to lavish it with licks that you greedily mirror as you delve face first into the damp, red curls. Sweet cinnamon, but salt and sour at the same time too, and you know you’ll never be tired of the taste. Or the way she responds.

“Oh, [Y/N]! Right…ye-eah.”

It makes you smile into her cunt, spreading the folds to plunge the tongue inside after a long and heavy lick.

Then you still.

Distracted.

Something smooth and cool is running through your own wetness, something much thicker and longer than expected. I trust her. Maybe you said it out oud, because she abandons the hesitance and latch on to your clit with lips and tongue simultaneous with the vibration beginning to pulse through the toy, nudging at the entrance to your greedy core.

It’s been a long time. The stretch is almost painful despite the urgency you feel for more. Natasha’s steady hand guides the vibrator partially in and out, tracing your folds with it and running it along her tongue onto the clit that sings from the extra stimulation…but she doesn’t let you cum.

And if you forget to pay attention to her needs? Cold air flutters across your exposed flesh at the abandonment, making you pout, and whimper…even if you do return to the delicious task above you. The feel of Nat’s nails tells how close she is along with the heavier breathing. A bit more. It applies to you too, hips thrusting towards the pumps of the toy filling you out each time now. Bit more.

Every nerve in your and Natasha’s bodies are focused on the heavy, sweet lump deep within. Filling and tightening. It’s almost too much. A nimble tongue dances on the most sensitive of spots – a duet with a partner out of sight but reaching across the distance until, finally, there is no such thing as distance or time. All there’s left is a rainbow of ecstasy crashing through you both, convulsing lovers crying the names of each other as bliss explodes.

It takes a long time to ride it out, each movement sends new waves through your overstimulated bodies, but even as Natasha lies down next to you, tossing the silk aside to set you free, the hunger isn’t sated and you can see it as dark embers in her eyes too.

“That’s gonna last me a day. Tops.” You kiss her nose to make sure she knows how wonderful anything with her is.

The wicked smile lights up your world. “That long?”

“Tops,” you repeat with a grin, “now gimme that thing.”

#Agent of hope mcu fanfiction #natasha romanoff #Natalia romanova #Black Widow #Natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natalia romanova x you #natalia romanova x reader #Black widow x reader #Black widow x you #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic series #Former Brock Rumlow x you #Former Brock Rumlow x reader #Avengers #Pre-Ultron #Post-Captain America Winter Soldier #stark tower #Avenger tower #Avenger Compound #fanfiction #fanfic #Bitasha #reader #fem!reader #reader insert #Smut #Natasha smut

[holylulusworld]

Before you (16)

Summary: King Steven Grant Rogers once was a good king and a gentle alpha. Now he’s a cruel shadow of his former self. Can he find the light again? 

Pairing: King(Alpha)!Steve Rogers x Maid(Omega)!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Lady Natalia, Stephen Strange, Brock Rumlow, Peter Parker

Warnings: angst, undefined age gap, fluff, true mates, a/b/o, scenting, mentions of torture/eating heart, dark/ooc Stephen Strange (well, he’s a torturer)

A/N: Sharon is Peggy’s cousin for my story.

Before you masterlist 

<< Part 15

Enchanted. Enthralled. Hopelessly devoted.

Steve can’t deny that his heart, soul, and body belong only to you. He’s never been so devoted to someone.

He watches you eagerly talk to Peter, telling him about the latest book you read, and the last flowers Steve helped you pick to press them too.

“See, I got them all. This way, they’ll never die,” you excitedly tell your friend about the flowers you pressed. You open one of the bigger books to show him the pressed flowers. “How have you been, Peter.”

“How have you been, Lady Y/N?” Peter asks. “I’m sorry for not being there for you lately. The king asked me to help his brother.”

“Oh, the king helped me get better at reading. He’s nicer now,” you whisper. “I hope to see more of you from now on.”

Peter bows.

“I must take my leave now. Lord Barnes needs my help again. Hopefully, we can read more books together soon. I’d was a pleasure spending time with you again.”

You smile at the young man. “Peter, thank you for spending time with me,” you softly say. “You’ll become a great knight Peter.”

“Thank you, my lady,” you giggle and wrap Peter in a hug. “Lady Y/N.” He clears his throat as the king growls low in his throat. “I should go now.”

“Of course,” you realize your mishap. “I’m sorry. It’s just…you remind me so much of my brother.” Stepping away from your friend you apologize.

“I’m honored,” cheeks shades of red Peter drops his gaze. “Thank you, my lady.”

Peter bows to the king and hurriedly leaves the chamber. He doesn’t want to anger the king. He heard Steve growl and snarl when you wrapped him in a hug.

“Steve, I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t have hugged Peter. I didn’t think much of it.” You can only hope Steve won’t get mad. You heard about alphas getting possessive and angry when their omega shows affection toward other men.

“Omega, my love,” Steve's features soften seeing the fear in your eyes. “I won’t hide that I don’t like watching you hug other men but,” he clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I know you’re only mine.”

“Peter is nice, and like a brother to me. You know that” you gasp when Steve closes the distance between the two of you to bring you into his arms. He gently runs his hand over your back and shushes you.

“You need to calm, omega,” he whispers lowly. “We belong together. You’re my soulmate and my omega. I trust you with my heart.”

You sigh deeply and snuggle into his chest. For a moment, the world is at peace with you. There is no pain, fear, or sorrow. Only Steve’s calming scent lulls you into safety.

“You see, I got more than enough time to make you suffer,” Strange smirks darkly as Rumlow is whimpering like a newborn pup. What’s left of the formerly so strong and self-confident man is nothing but an empty shell.

“Mo-nster,” Rumlow spits the remnants of the potion onto the ground. “What did you give me?” He looks up at Strange, the mysterious man bringing pain over him like no man before him. “You’re the devil.”

“I’m honored,” the sorcerer throws his head back, cackling like he lost his mind. "But no. The devil fears me.” His features darken as he opens the last vial. “After I fed you this last one, you’ll do anything I want you to do. Even eat your own heart.”

“Who are you? How can the king let you roam freely,” he coughs. “You’re using black magic. That’s forbidden.”

“Magic?” Strange laughs darkly. “This has nothing to do with magic or the devil. It’s called science. I studied the human body and mind all my life. Now I know exactly what to do to break you.”

“You won’t break me,” Rumlow weakly replies. He’s already broken. His mind is close to caving in as his body already gave up. Rumlow drops to the ground, shaking in fear. “Never.”

“My poor boy.”

The sorcerer crouches down to watch Rumlow wiggle on the ground. Rumlow whines and grunts. He wets his pants as Strange gets back up to walk toward the vial.

“No more. Please.”

Strange smirks to himself as Rumlow chokes the words out.

“If you tell me everything I need to know, I won’t use the other vial,” Strange’s voice softens. He turns back around and tries to hide his excitement. “Talk, sweet boy. If not—”

“Peggy wanted to become queen,” he cries. “She wanted to get rid of the girl too. I only did what she asked me to do. I never wanted to kill the boy and the father. The brother caught me in the stables.”

“That’s a start,” the sorcerer crouches down in front of Rumlow to pat the man’s head. The touched starved and vulnerable alpha whines at the softest touch. “If you tell me the truth, the pain will end.”

“Sharon helped her,” Rumlow continues. “It was her idea to tell the king the child is his. She was already pregnant with King Howard’s child when she returned to her husband.”

“Did the queen plan all of this? Did she visit King Howard to get pregnant? I heard rumors. People assumed she’s barren.”

“Peggy was told that King Steven’s seed won’t grow inside of her. The healer said that the king’s grief won’t let his seed settle in her womb. He never knotted her,” Rumlow coughs again. “She only visited King Stark’s kingdom to conceive a child. Peggy had to give the king an heir.”

“What about King Howard? Did he know about all of this?”

“No. He only wanted to share a few intimate moments with his former lover,” Rumlow weakly replies. “He didn’t know about her plans. At least that’s what Peggy told me.”

“You mentioned Sharon,” Strange presses on while patting Rumlow’s head. “What was her role in this charade?”

“She was the one telling Peggy there’s only one way to become queen.”

“Killing Y/N.”

“Yes,” Rumlow’s eyes flutter shut. He’s too exhausted even lift his head but keeps on talking. “She’s the root of all evil, Strange. I think Sharon wanted to become queen all along. She told Peggy that she wants to marry the king’s brother, but I’m not sure about it. Sharon only ever had eyes for King Steven…”

Rumlow loses consciousness. His breathing evens out, and he stops trembling.

“Good boy,” Strange whispers in his prisoner’s ear. “We will return to our conversation later. I’ll get you a blanket and food. I hope you won’t get back to being stubborn. I would hate to continue with the procedure…”

“Not again, Natalia,” Bucky rolls his eyes as the redhead won’t stop talking about you. “I told you, there is no way. I cannot do this to my brother. He loves her!”

“You love her more!”

“That’s not a competition!” He growls. “Love is love. You cannot tell if my love is worthier. Steve deserves to get happy. He saw her first. My brother is in love with her since he was just a boy.”

“James,” she sighs now. “I’m sorry.” Natalia gently places her hand on Bucky’s arm. “I only want you to get happy. I wasn’t the one, but Y/N could…”

“Just stop,” he whispers lowly. “Please no more…”

“How about we go for a walk and talk about…anything else,” she offers, holding out her hand. “I promise to behave and tell you everything I got out of Sharon. You’ll love it…”

“You called for an audience, Sorcerer Supreme,” Steve points at one of the chairs in his study. “What can you tell me?”

“Rumlow finally talked,” Strange slowly opens his diary. “I wrote down every sin your queen, Rumlow, his men, and Lady Sharon committed.”

“What about King Howard?” the king furrows his brows. “I need to know about him first.”

“So far I can tell you that he didn’t know about Peggy’s plans. He’s an unfaithful man, and a cheater, but didn’t want to harm you, or your kingdom.”

“He fucked my wife!”

“That he did,” clearing his throat Strange turns the first page. “You already know about Peggy’s plans on getting rid of your omega. What you didn’t know is that it was Sharon’s plan all along.”

“What?” Steve growls. “Sharon? But why?”

“Rumlow assumes she wanted you,” the sorcerer laughs darkly. “You have this influence on omegas, I think.”

“I-I need to…” Steve pants heavily. “Please excuse me. Don’t leave. I need to know everything, but first, I need to make sure Y/N is safe.”

Steve stumbles out of his study and runs toward your chamber. He calls for Sam and Peter, almost running Bucky over.

“Brother. What’s wrong?”

“Sharon! She planned to kill Y/N. She’s more dangerous than we thought!”

A cold shiver runs down Bucky’s spine as he goes for a sprint, outrunning the king. He made his peace with losing you to his brother. But he’ll be damned to lose you to Sharon…

>> Part 17

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #king!steve rogers x peasant reader #king!steve rogers x maid!reader #a/b/o #alpha!steve x omega!reader #bucky barnes #Before you (16) #medieval au

[missvelvetsstuff]

Masterlist

Aarrgh! Going back and forth between my husbands pc and my phone is causing some issues with links so I’m starting over.

Here’s my stories, all are Bucky Barnes x Reader/OFC unless otherwise noted.

If you prefer AO3

Miss Velvet- Completed

Y/N is a disabled equestrian and therapeutic riding instructor who helps Tony Stark with his PTSD after returning from Titan. When the Avengers bring everyone back he hires her to work with Avengers and SHIELD hires her as therapist and teaching basic riding skills because you never know when a horse will be the best mode of transportation.<;br />

Bucky Barnes is a manwhore who is enjoying his freedom for the first time in decades and pays no mind to y/n when she meets the team because he learned to ride from Hydra and too is busy pursuing his next conquest.

Post Endgame but everybody survived, because I said so. And Steve helped get Sharon Carter pardoned so they are together.

Little Bird-Completed

Bucky Barnes x Mutant OFC

Notes: This idea just came to me while I was working on my college au and I'm pretty excited about it. Canon has been taken out back and shot, I do what I want. Enemies to lovers

The Avengers find Rika being held captive in a Hydra base and try to figure out who she is and why Hydra wanted her.

The Cowgirl and the Engineer

Notes: this is some sort of Heathers/Mean Girls/The DUFF mash up, in college au. I tried to make it original but will admit to being influenced by other stories I have read. I have not intentionally stolen or copied anyone else’s work.

Summary: Reader is a hard working vet science major. I tried to keep the description vague except she’s a she, tall and not thin. Bucky is a studious engineering major with a mean girl girlfriend, Sharon whose sister is Steve’s ex Peggy another mean girl. Steve & Nat, Sam & Wanda, Brock Rumlow is a dick, brief reader x Jack Rollins, Maria & Carol

Friday’s Place

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Mob AU

Friday is an equestrian who runs a therapeutic stable that works with special needs, at risk kids and veterans.

Bucky Barnes is the boss of SHIELD a mafia family and involved with a business deal that requires Friday's Place and all of the homes around it to be demolished for new buildings.

 Brock Rumlow is second in command with Hydra and in charge of the deal Friday is fighting. He's not afraid to fight dirty, in fact he prefers it. 

 Sharon Carter is Friday's oldest frenemy and Brocks girl. 

 Friday won't go down without a fight. What happens when her and Bucky clash?

Cold Hearted- Completed

Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Reader(past), Reader x ????

Former Black Widow Reader is engaged to Steve Rogers but what happens when Sharon Carter is pardoned and returns.

Low Expectations- Completed

Reader is low on self esteem. Can Bucky convince her that she's the one he wants?

Note: just a simple love story. Many of the people, situations and quotes were plucked directly from my past experiences. It took my husband a lot of time and angst to help me look past the image that my ex carved into my psyche. Luckily he really did want me and was patient enough to help me carry my baggage.

Names have been changed to protect the not so innocent.

Guarded Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky x Nat, Reader x Thor

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of a powerful mob boss who only cares about her horses and making it to the Olympics but her father expects her to marry an equally powerful boss to help strengthen his business. Bucky is looking for a wife to help his business but already has a long term girlfriend, Natasha.

Warnings: swearing, angst, arranged marriage, infidelity, slow burn, smut.

Notes: considering another story to try and get past the block I have for my WIP's. LMK what you think. If anyone is interested I'll keep going. I could also use help with a title, I'm not great at them.

I tried to keep my reader as generic as possible but like always she's female and taller than average.

Where Ya Going, Star?

Summary: Reader meets Bucky when the truck hauling her show horses breaks down as she is trying to leave for an event and he works for the mechanic. Passionate, secret love affair ensues. After a confrontation with her father, Bucky decides she deserves better than a poor biker like him and leaves town with his friends Steve and Sam.

Three years later, reader is trapped in an abusive relationship and about to give up hope of things ever improving, when Bucky comes back.

Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x older reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies

**Updated**

Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Natasha, Reader x ????

Reader is a mutant with the ability to turn sound into light who was 'adopted' aka stolen as a child by Baron Von Strucker to use for experimentation. She was given a form of the Super soldier serum so in addition to her mutant abilities she also has super strength, enhanced senses and healing. When he starts experimenting on his volunteers, the Maximoff twins, she tries to convince them to escape with her but they tell the Baron that she's planning to escape so he doubles her cell security. Steve and reader met when the team recovered Loki's scepter from Strucker.

She falls in love with Steve and becomes good friends with Nat but they aren't the friends she thinks they are.

This story is canon adjacent except that Thanos never happened.

Fandom Leap

Summary: Reader is stressed and enjoys diving into her favorite fandoms as her happy escape. What happens when she is some how transported into her favorite fandoms

A/N: this is my first time doing a story collaboration with the amazing mutuals I've encountered on tumblr, all thought up and coordinated by @supraveng many thanks for including me.

This series will have multiple chapters and each written by someone else.

One shots & requests

Skin Deep

Reader and Bucky have been dating for awhile but when he is gone on a long mission the stress causes her psoriasis to flare and she's scared he will be disgusted.

Poor Choices

Request*****Like Steve cheated on his wife and when she found out about them he gave her the divorce papers and left her with their kids, and after few years the woman he cheated with cheated on him and he tries to get back to the reader and now she’s married to Bucky .******

Traded Up

Nick Fowler x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader(past)

Request***** I have a request for your milestone celebration......can you write a Ransom Drysdale or Nick Fowler story?  any scenario you like, just keeping his asshole persona except he's totally soft for the reader? 

The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader meets steve while he's on the run and sticks with him thru thick and thin. Until he sees Peggy Carter again.

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x you #Miss Velvet #Little Bird #james bucky barnes x reader #cold hearted #friday's place #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #mob!au #low expectations #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler x you

[real-jane]

drifting (10)

[cw!bucky barnes x female!reader]

summary: bucky saves the life of a woman when she’s buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is… or what he’s done.

how long can he hide?

warnings: canon-level violence, recovered memories, google translated russian language (key at end), appearance of the winter soldier (kinda), discussion of triggers, brock rumlow is himself, bad guys dying. chekov's gun aka. bucky's knife.

word count: 4k+

a/n: I'm going to add two potential chapters to the masterlist for the sake of what is left to tell in this story. Twelve and an epilogue feels comfy. Enjoy! :)

series masterlist

***

“Were you aware you have superior healing abilities?”

“Not to the degree that my leg healed.”

“You were given a dose of super-serum during your tenure at the Red Room Academy, were you not?”

“I was given vaccinations against what I was told were acute versions of major infectious diseases. Influenza, Diphtheria, Dengue. If there’s a vaccine for it, I’ve had it. This is the first time I have been made aware one of them was a ‘super-serum’ as you call it–a fact which I cannot confirm, as I have no knowledge of what was given to me while under HYDRA’s control.”

“Do you possess super-strength?”

“No.”

“Hearing?”

“No.”

The doctor’s script is furious as he reviews Y/n’s medical history. He taps his pen on the yellow legal pad. He fits the stethoscope into the crook of her elbow and listens to her heartbeat. He taps on her knees, makes her follow a light so he can observe her eyes–an act which makes him grumble something about a recent concussion. Her skin is pulled and prodded around her former break.

She performs a standard array of exercises to prove, once and for all, that she is no more capable than anyone else employed by SHIELD, other than having the capacity for healing not unlike a gecko. Natasha braids her hair after she’s allowed a three minute frigid shower in the locker room, and she’s given a change of clothes: navy blue sweats in a size matching her body, and not originally intended for use by a super-soldier. They’re not as comfortable as Bucky’s worn-in Levis cuffed three times, or the hoodie which smells of cedar, Irish Spring, and of his latest cigarette fixation… but they fit.

She slides his knife down the front of her bra, kissed up against her sternum, and hands over his clothes to an agent when she emerges again.

Are they giving him new clothes, too? she whispers to Natasha. Nat shakes her head, and squeezes her elbow.

“See you tonight, Пчёлка. Stay strong.”

***

Y/n is shuffled from the medical evaluation to a small office with broad, dark windows. No matter how many times she asks after Bucky, or how many hours pass of droll questions, she isn’t afforded any information about him. It’s just her and an evaluator in an ill-fitting tweed jacket. He has tiny glasses, which perch at the precipice of the bridge of his nose, threatening at any moment to slide. It makes her fingers itch to shove them up where they belong, and as such, she is not prepared for the first question…

The only question she perhaps should have expected. It puts her on edge. Any professionalism she had mustered through the rigamarole of the medical testing flees her body, in favor of petulance and feistiness.

“How well are you acquainted with Bucky Barnes?”

The corner of her mouth turns up. Her eyes roll. “How well do you know him?”

More notes, these ones made shorter with a scratchy fountain pen. “Were you acquainted with Mr. Barnes prior to your accident—“

“You tell me.”

“Could you please describe the mission you were given by Captain Rogers.”

“I’m assuming you have the file with the full writeup.”

“In your words. Your perception of what was asked of you, if you please.”

She sighs. “I was to ensure Barnes was no longer a danger to himself or others, and confirm that he had not in fact returned to his HYDRA handlers.”

“Did you confirm this?”

“Yes, on both counts. I found no evidence he was under HYDRA’s influence any longer.”

“So you are not aware of the incident outside St. Louis, in which Mr. Barnes incapacitated three STRIKE agents and snapped the neck of a Congressman?”

She blinks. “If that did occur, I don’t have the security clearance to be briefed.”

The man shuffles through the stack of papers at his elbow and produces several poor-quality photographs of this so-called incident. Sure enough, Bucky is surrounded by a group of agents in those recognizable uniforms in the first image. In the next, his metal fist is wrapped around the barrel of a gun, while another man’s boot collides with his side. She gasps.

“Is this Brock Rumlow?” She points at the grimace worn by a man who has taunted her for this connection for which she is currently being held accountable. The evaluator need not answer for her to know it’s him. Just as she’d recognize Bucky in the pitch dark by the sound of his soft breaths, she would clock the malice of Brock Rumlow in a grainy photograph taken fifty yards away.

“At what point in your time with Mr. Barnes in Colorado did you make the decision to abandon your mission?”

“Never,” she breathes. Y/n brushes her thumb over Bucky’s face in the last photograph, where his brows are furrowed and eyes panicked. “I was faithful to my mission. Bucky Barnes is not under HYDRA’s influence, and he is not a danger to himself or others. Steve Rogers knew where I was, and that I was unable to leave due to the intense snowfall.”

“Other than the incident with Captain Rogers, which resulted in a downed Douglas Fir tree.”

She huffs. “At no point was Captain America in danger. They have equal strength and skill in unarmed hand-to-hand combat.”

The man takes back the photographs of the so-called ‘incident’ from St. Louis, and makes several more notes on a new page, ignoring her assertion that Bucky’s fight with Steve was anything but dangerous. In truth, she understood why he did it. Every ounce of her had been urging on his fists as they connected with the righteous Cap’s cheekbones, and perhaps it spoke to her own darkness (the shadow which connected her and Bucky further back than their stint in Colorado).

But panic was rising in her chest. What Steve had promised them seemed unlikely, now, because he wasn’t monitoring her evaluation. Fury was. With every question about Bucky came reluctance to answer, because how would they twist her biased sentiments against him? Just by fretting over a photograph depicting Brock Rumlow with his foot in Bucky’s ribs, she might be revealing some weakness in him.

Enough compliance, enough acquiescing to this insane line of questioning. Yes, she promised Bucky she wouldn’t give them any reason to punish her, but she is tired of giving this mouse of a man any information which might be used against Bucky. His care for her while they were snowed-in could be twisted in his interrogation. His defense of her to Steve likely already was. In what scenario is her truthfulness a virtue when the entire organization is bent against him?

If she can’t help him with facts, she won’t help them with compliance either.

“When did you first meet Mr. Barnes?”

“I don’t recall what I had for breakfast.”

“What is the nature of your relationship with—“

She shifts in her seat, sitting forward. “Mr. Barnes? Neighbors. He lets me borrow a cup of sugar every now and then.”

A speaker above her head buzzes, and Nick Fury’s voice crackles through it. “Agent, do be serious.”

“I’m being honest,” she calls, as if she doesn’t know Fury is ten feet behind her, on the other side of bullet-proof glass. “He was my professor in college. No—sorry. He sold me my car.”

“What do you call Mr. Barnes?”

She snorts. “Jamie.”

“Why not Bucky? It’s how he introduces himself.”

“Are you asking me why I use a nickname? To be facetious.”

“How did he introduce himself to you?”

She scoffs. “James Barnes pulled me out of a snow bank, unconscious, and nursed me back to health. I would’ve called him anything he asked for, including ‘Bucky.’ But I don’t, because I like ‘Jamie,’ and he hasn’t corrected me. If he ever asks me to call him ‘Bucky’ instead, I will adjust.”

“What does he call you?”

“My name.”

“Do you like that?”

“I’d prefer princess.”

“What do you recall about your acquaintance prior to reuniting in Colorado?”

“Very little.”

“Is it true you didn’t remember having met him until you began sleeping in the same bed—“

“I’m not answering that.”

“What is the true nature of your relationship?”

“Go to hell.”

“Have you and Mr. Barnes been intimate—“

“That is completely inappropriate.”

“Why so hostile, agent?”

She stands, smacking her palms on the table. “I was promised we wouldn’t be split up and grilled within an inch of our lives! I’m done on this side, and Jamie is nowhere to be seen. I’ve answered everything which is relevant to my AWOL designation. I’m no longer absent. The rest of your questions have no bearing on my loyalty to SHIELD. Or to James Buchanan Barnes. I am going now, someone’s gonna let me out, and I hope you have a nice day going forward.”

She strides to the door but it won’t budge when she yanks on the handle. Striking the flat of her hand against the face, she shrieks in annoyance.

The evaluator folds his hands over his notes. He is unphased by her outburst. “Have you ever met his alter ego The Winter Soldier?”

“No.”

“What do you remember, мишень?”

A stab of a memory flashes through her. This very man, standing before her. Younger, but just as pointed in his gaze. Her eyelids flutter.

“Ah. She’s still in there. Good. I was afraid you were lost to me.” The man flips several pages on his notepad, and taps his finger on the page. “Let’s see if these ring a bell. Честный.”

Honest.

A piercing alarm blares over the compound speakers, so loud that her ears ring. No. Jamie–

“Святым.” The man shouts to be heard over the unrelenting buzzer.

Sacred.

She doubles over at the shock through her temples where the trigger word fails to link with the first as it wants to, but something crumbles–or the blinders come off. Y/n presses her hand over her ears. She doesn’t miss the third word as it strikes her like a javelin to the heart.

“Сильный.”

Strong.

Her muscles tingle as the trigger fails to lock their will, and her skin crawls with the memory of being electrocuted.

The lights go out, and then the emergency light in the corner turns on with a low red flash. The alarm stops. Her captor does not.

“​​Дочь.”

Daughter.

She straightens. The word which usually made her rigid, wait for the last… the word which meant something, and yet nothing. It has no power over her now except grief, but still she obeys it… because what if the last one still takes her away from herself?

“Mишень.”

Mark. The scapegoat, the principle… the Mark. The word which delineated her role in her father’s eyes, and yet… no longer held her under its thrall. She was free.

Every moment of sitting knee-to-knee with Natasha as Shuri walked them through the deprogramming exercises was worth this one victory over herself. Every phantom pain caused by one of those five words. The nights of sleep lost to nightmares where she sent herself into the liminal space by remembering Arnim Zola saying those words to her, and grounding herself in what was real to burn them away.

She is free. Freedom is her asset now.

But so are the memories, which are crystal clear where they once were smoke. With every trigger word, the locks lowered until the dam broke.

She stands as if he has succeeded in inducing a controlled state: back straight, knees slightly bent, fingers hanging loose. Chin raised. She stares at the far wall as a barrage of images flood her brain. Now, with the full scope of her personal history at her disposal, Y/n sees everything she’s been forced to forget under the fog of brain wipes.

She sees herself in Zola’s office, summoned there on the premise of evaluating her progress and yet triggered with words she hadn’t even known were programmed into her mind with his little sayings and colloquialisms… and there, standing in the doorway with the door kicked in… Soldat. She blinks away the red-cast on reflected memories.

The door bursts open, splintering through the lock.

There he stands, flesh and blood. Not as she knows him now–Jamie, the man on the mountain with a soft voice and kind eyes–but as she knew him first: the ghost of Москва. Who taught her to shoot a gun, and bury a blade where it counts.

She blinks again and she’s far away in the rosey light of memory as his eyes crinkle at her for the first time, as they take in heaving breaths after training, the first time she lands a punch on him. When that hallowed expression smolders around the edges to let the light in. When he takes her hand, not to correct her form but to press her skin against his in the one bit of comfort either of them have ever known.

“Soldat.”

She ignores the distant voice because in her mind, she’s traversing the timeline for the second touch event which she knows is there. After a punishment, when she’s been left to heal from a harsh beating in solitary confinement (and well past midnight) when the door opens and the man who would be HYDRA’s greatest weapon slips inside and kneels beside her.

When she crawls into his arms the moment he brushes a hand over her shoulder, and sobs. That chest, and the place her cheek claims as her own. The way he sits against the door in case a guard comes to check on her, worrying his lips against her forehead. Then the corner of her mouth. Then the plush center of her lips, so gentle she nearly misses it except that she sobs and he holds her tighter.

The memories are relentless.

Third touches, him cleaning her skin, stolen moments after training, subtle kisses when no one else can see… going to him after he’s been away with no explanation, and coaxing those explanations from his lips. And apologies.

I’m sorry, моя любовь. They tried to make me forget you. I couldn’t. I tried, for your sake, but you’re stubborn.

Healing him. Sharing frightened first intimacy, only to find him softer than she ever thought possible, and then not being able to fall asleep beside him for fear of discovery. Passion and perhaps recklessness, but devotion for one another which makes no sense in such a place as that.

And yet.

A life with this man unfurls in her mind like reaching ivy, with moments and touches made of leaves, every kindness a flower blossoming in barren soil. The richness of what they had–what they have–it’s in her, now. It is her, now. It’s proof their care for one another goes as deep as Steve and Natasha said.

This man is her anchor, has been since there was no love in her life, no hope at all, and he came for her every time someone tried to separate them before. She remembers being punished for smiling at him, or when he was taken away for weeks at a time, returned with burn marks on his temples and a hard edge for everyone… but not her. Because he will save her in every lifetime, even when he doesn’t remember her.

Even from drifted snow.

And she will find him in every mindset, especially when Soldat has the reins.

Steve’s words ring between her ears. It makes her want to hug him. There is one person in this world who can break Bucky’s programming, because there is one soul in the whole world who knows him as well as herself. Her heart is so full it is liable to burst, especially now that he’s here.

Standing in the doorway of the tiny office, Bucky’s eyes are blown, irises enveloped by his corneas so they appear black. His hair falls over his cheeks, and he stares at her from beneath those long lashes, with the faintest moue at the corner of his mouth.

Jamie, she wants to call. But she can’t let on to the evaluator that she’s not under control, so she lets her face drain of any reaction. He takes a measured step forward, one after the other, until he towers over her. She can’t help the shudder when he turns his nose into her temple.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Bonnie and Clyde of Belarus.” The other man (who she all but forgot when Bucky entered) removes his glasses and stands from the table. “I do love to see you together, мои дети.”

She extends her pinky and brushes against Bucky’s thigh. He huffs.

“You’ve proven how successful our training regime was, and it is… adorable how you thought you might play house now that you’re together again. But.” The handler skirts around the table, standing before them with his hands clasped behind his back. “I have wasted valuable resources trying to find you both after your stunt in Bucharest. I’m afraid our time together is up. Soldat. If you please.”

Metal fingers slide up her gullet, but still she remains focused on the distant wall. The clock above the door ticks arrhythmically, the hands fluttering like they aren’t sure where they ought to land.

Bucky shifts so he’s standing behind her, but he urges her head back as he circles her throat. His other arm pins hers at her side. The red light floods her mind again, flickering back to the small room where she was supposed to have died at Bucky’s hand before… Soldat holding her just so. Zola, the man who was supposed to be her beloved father, watching through dark glass. And this man who is here now–Zemo. That’s his name. He gave orders then, too.

You’ve compromised our weapon, мишень. He’s of no use to me now. So we must remove the impediment. Don’t worry. He’ll do it. You’ll be comfortable.

“Brock, if you please.” The handler turns as Brock Rumlow enters the room. At his hip, he wields a revolver large enough to knock most shooters on their ass with one shot. He unclips the gun and hands it handle-first to the man she now realizes is Baron Zemo. Zemo pulls a bullet from his pocket and holds it up between two fingers.

Fucking traitor, she thinks.

“It was our method last time which failed us. What good is a knife? You’re limited by the length and sharpness of the blade. But this–armor-piercing. A battering ram in a full metal jacket.” Zemo slides the bullet into the barrel of the hand-cannon. “This way… two for the price of one.”

The man turns around to speak softly with Brock Rumlow. “Zola?”

Rumlow shakes his head. “Soldat snapped his neck.” The two men are distracted enough that they don’t notice her glance up at Bucky behind her. The titanium at her throat loosens ever so slightly.

“Я буду держать тебя в безопасности,” Bucky whispers. “Я не причиню тебе вреда.”

It was true back then, it is more true now than ever. Regardless of whether or not he’s himself, he knows her, he will protect her. But they have to act fast, or they’ll both meet their end because of Brock Rumlow’s gun. She gasps as she remembers the one souvenir she kept from SHIELD.

“У меня все еще есть твой нож.”

“Где это находится?”

“Where do you think?” she huffs. Bucky slides the heel of his hand upwards, between her breasts, much more brazenly than he would allow himself to do in his right mind–but he detects the solid metal of the knife hidden there.

“Push it down,” she murmurs. He does so; it takes some effort to pass the knife beneath the front band of her bra with just the force of pushing through her shirt, but the band is loose enough. The metal is cold against her belly but he follows it to her hem. He closes his fist at her hem with the knife in his fingers as Zemo turns back to them.

“Ah,” the man says in amusement. “One last passionate embrace before you meet Saint Peter.”

“Should’ve seen them on the mountain,” Rumlow snorts. “It’s disgusting.”

“Yes. It’s not Zola’s finest work.”

Rumlow gapes at the other man. “No way.”

“Mmm. He wanted to discern if the Asset could still feel. He was too sentimental for my taste, but. She–” he nods at Y/n– “was his own blood. God love a father who first allows his daughter love, and then punishes her for it.”

She bites back a sob which claws at her throat. Bucky lowers his hand inch by inch until it bumps against hers at her side. She takes the knife from him, wincing as if he’s choking her to keep Zemo’s attention away from the handoff.

“Can’t I have a little fun with her?” Rumlow whines. “Before you rid us of the bitch for good.”

“Now, now. I draw the line at defiling her body, so you had better keep it strictly to blows.”

“Bare hands, I swear. I just want to hit her real hard.”

“Be my guest.” Zemo gestures the other man forward, and then holds up his hand. “Soldat. Release.”

Bucky lets go of her, but he remains right behind her. “Убей его,” he whispers.

She doesn’t signify she’s heard him. She waits for instruction from the man who believes he still controls her. When it comes, she has slipped the knife up her cuff. Zemo approaches, tapping her on the cheek.

“Oh, мишень. What a disappointment you were to your father.”

The cold metal of the gun brushes against her other cheek.

There has been one other time in her life when it seemed like it all had come to nothing. When a powerful man had decided she was too much of a risk to keep alive, and had ordered her life be snuffed out. With Zemo’s hand bookending her cheeks with a gun fit to wield her doom, and a turncoat agent itching to punish her… she feels powerful. Who knew she could unsettle so many mewling idiots? She would fight Rumlow as she must, but then what?

The last test of her wills is the assertion that Zola gave Bucky to her. He may have intended their connection to be an experiment, but he didn’t manufacture those emotions in either of them. In fact, not anticipating the depth of their bond was his mistake.

Under normal circumstances, she would be happy to fight Rumlow until he was just a skin bag of loose teeth, but not with Zemo waiting on the sidelines to blow a hole in her head. Not with Bucky triggered. It has to end now.

It is most satisfying, in a way that is intangible beyond the savoring of a moment, to pierce Baron Zemo’s stomach with a blade of adequate length for destroying major organs, and watch the life drain from his eyes in shock. Equally satisfying, if not more so… is pushing his lifeless body to the ground, and sinking Bucky’s knife deep into Brock Rumlow’s eye socket with a precise throw. Because there is nothing more gratifying in the world than taking back her power from men who assume it comes from intimidation, and not from love strong enough to free the Winter Soldier.

Nothing, except knowing HYDRA can’t touch them anymore.

She stands over Rumlow’s body when she hears the distant footsteps pounding. Y/n removes the knife from the man’s face and wipes it clean on his uniform. For good measure, she gives him a sharp kick in the ribs, but he’s dead. She peers around the doorway for the source of the footsteps–a battered Natasha and Steve sprint down the hallway with several other agents in tow, all of whom look as if they’ve been through quite a fight.

“Get behind me, моя любовь.” Bucky’s voice is frantic.

Y/n turns back to him. His hand is raised, fingers wrapped around the handle of Rumlow’s gun. Shaking. Fuck. She darts towards him, even as their friends draw closer.

She tugs on his elbow, but he is unmoving. “Jamie–”

Steve Rogers rounds the corner of the doorway, and Soldat fires.

***

Chapter 11

Thank you for reading! :)

Tag list: @peterhollandkait @abitgryffindorky @ohheyjanie @mysticatto @hogwartsahist0ry @idgafiamallthefandoms @im-just-star-dust @light-through-stained-glass @ginger-swag-rapunzel @sanguineterrain @honeywithemoney @nahthanks @lalalalokii @themorningsunshine @mumbles411

Message or comment to be added to the tag list!

***

Russian language key:

моя любовь - 'my love'

Пчёлка - 'bee'

мои дети - 'my children'

“Я буду держать тебя в безопасности,” Bucky whispers. “Я не причиню тебе вреда.” - 'I'll keep you safe. I won't harm you.'

“У меня все еще есть твой нож.” - 'I still have your knife.'

“Где это находится?” - 'Where is it?'

“Убей его.” - 'Kill him.'

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #drifting by real jane

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 3 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 3 2023 or Week 159, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my January reblog masterlist 2023 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ 💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ 🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ ❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ 💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ 💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 3 2023:

 Perceptions (Alvey Kulina X Reader) by @crazytxgradstudent​ 💚

Buddie fic (Evan Buckley X Eddie Díaz) by @prettyboybuckley​💙

Bullshit chapter X (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @bolontiku​ 💚

No more Mr. Nice guy (Frat!Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @kinanabinks​ 🖤

My saviour chapter 33: This one is not! (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤 ❤️💚💙

Space girl (Michael Morbius X Reader) by @insomniac-astronomer​ 💚

Steve fic (StepBrother!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mkfushiguro​❤️

Go to your girl (Former Steve Rogers X Reader) by @holylulusworld​ 💚💙

My saviour chapter 34: Please don’t be mad at me! (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤 ❤️💚💙

The trouble with coyotes (Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mdemontespan1667​ 🖤 ❤���

Something wonderful part I (Stucky X Reader) by @disasterofastory​ 💙

Where you lead chapter I: The beginning (Reader, Crossover) by @ghostlytyrantpeach​ 💚

Let her know (Mateo Guevara x OC!Natasha Reign, Abe Guevara x OC!Natasha Reign) by @there-goes-thefighter​💙

My saviour chapter 35: Who said anything about winning (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤❤️💚💙

Chef’s kiss (Mean!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki​ 🖤❤️

Movies don’t create psychos (Slasher!Sheriff!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @geniedetails​ 🖤❤️

Sleep, baby boy (Steve Rogers, Barnes family) by @hollybee8917 💙

Steve Rogers (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @justalonelyslytherin​ 💚💙

Where his heart resides (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @jsrblue​❤️💚💙

Senses chapter I (Michael Morbius X Reader) by @endofthelinegang​ 💚💙

The send-off part I (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @earth616variant​ 💚💙

The truth (Alvey Kulina X Reader) by @crazytxgradstudent​ 💚

Where his heart resides sequel (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @jsrblue​❤️💚💙

Driving home for Christmas (Stepbrother!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki​ 🖤❤️

Dadneto headcanons (Magneto’s family) by @arysbruv​💚

Broken (Dark!Best Friends!Stucky X Reader) by @straywords​ 🖤❤️

Secret passion (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @holylulusworld​❤️💚💙

Make me better (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @dbnightingale24​💙

#Annie recommends

[strawwritesfic]

Brock Rumlow x Female!Former SHIELD Agent!Reader: Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Fried

Summary: All old flames grow cold eventually–Excepting, of course, yours.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (bad language, torture, physical abuse, beating, brainwashing, post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Fic Trade Prompt: “Don’t make my job too easy~ ;)” Plus, I got to pick the character to write for this time around.

Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Fried

You awoke with a start in complete darkness with one hell of a headache pounding through your skull. Where you were and how you’d got to wherever that was you didn’t know, but it didn’t feel like you’d come along willingly. A multitude of invisible cuts stung up and down your body; your stomach felt as though it had had its contents punched out of it recently; and maybe you couldn’t see to confirm this, but you were pretty sure your left eye was swollen shut. Worst of all, every cell inside of you felt dry and hot and buzzy, as though you’d spent the evening before playing test subject for a new line of Tasers.

But what had happened mattered very little in comparison to your present predicament. You could catalog injuries once you were definitely safe. It didn’t take long for you to decide that your current location wasn’t that. Straining your ears, you heard nothing. No hum of electricity. No faint whir of a security camera. No chattering from anyone keeping guard. Eerie, you thought, until you decided to stand up…

…and found your arms clamped tightly to a couple of armrests. You had not realized that you were sitting down in an actual chair until you were unable to lift your wrists. Try as you might, no matter what angle you used, the restraints wouldn’t budge. Your ankles were in a similar state. Gritting your teeth, you mentally prepared to dislocate the bones. Nothing you hadn’t done before, but never a pleasant prospect. On the count of three. Three…two–

“Good morning,” came a deep voice from another corner of the room, “sweetheart.”

The sudden appearance of someone in your cell was not what caused you to freeze. No, you only stopped your attempts to get loose because you recognized the voice. You squinted into the dark. Still you could hear no breathing, see nothing further than the pitch black two inches from your nose. But then again, this man should have been a ghost.

“Brock?” you asked, voice raspy. Sounded (and felt) like you’d been smacked in the trachea, too.

A rumble of laughter answered you, but no footsteps. “I don’t go by that name anymore. But it’s good to hear you haven’t forgotten me entirely. Thought you might have, the way you’ve been treating me.”

Those three sentences were all it took to force the shock out of your system and flood it instead with frustration and anger. You clenched your fists into useless balls, rattling your cuffs as you did.

“I haven’t been treating you any way,” you said. “Not since INSIGHT. Not since Hydra.”

You glared in the direction from which Brock’s voice had issued, but still you could see no sign of him. Wherever you were, there were no windows. He had to be there, though; you hadn’t heard him move away or out. Sure enough, when he spoke again, he sounded close by:

“Don’t pretend that you leaving had anything to do with either of those.”

“Oh yeah? And why else would I leave you? Because you’re such a wonderful person, I’d be a fool not to stay?”

This time, the silence that stretched out after your final question lasted long enough for you to start wondering if Brock really was in there with you. He always did know how to stay silent and still–a boon working as the head of STRIKE–but even he had to shift sometimes, even he had to breathe. Maybe he had an intercom rigged up. You tried to hold your breath to listen for him again to no avail. Then you did hear a breath, a long, rattling almost laugh.

“Oh, I don’t know.” A click sounded just before the room was flooded with light. Your eyes snapped shut to avoid the pain that surged through your already throbbing head for what little good that did. “How about this?”

It took you a few seconds to force your eyelids back open. Sure enough, your left would hardly move. Through what remained of your field of vision, you could not see much through the sudden haze of light–not much outside of a dark shape in the corner of the huge room, that was. You blinked, and the figure came into focus: a dark-haired man sitting against a wall of security deposit boxes, and wearing thick, dark armor. As soon as your gaze reached his face, Brock grinned.

“Normally I wear the mask.” He stood, gesturing to a helmet sitting by his feet. It, too, was black, but with a skull blasted across its face in white paint. Then Brock kicked the mask to the side and strode purposely over to where you were clamped to the chair. “But I don’t need to wear it for you. No secrets between us, [Name]. Isn’t that right?”

Up close, you could see his features better even through your damaged eye. However you looked, you definitely looked better than Brock. His face was a twisted mass of reddened flesh. As you took his new appearance in, he drew closer, leering down at you. You shrank away, but all this did was make him chuckle.

“I thought so. Couldn’t stand to be with someone so ugly, could you?”

You swallowed thickly. “I didn’t see that before I left.”

Brock laughed again. “You’re a damn shitty liar. Always have been. You think I didn’t know? You think I was deaf and dumb under all those bandages? You think I had any delusions that my girl would stay by my side after Captain America demolished a building on top of my fucking face?!”

His voice rose in volume and intensity, and with each sentence, he thrust himself further into your personal space. You made yourself stay in place, though your heaving chest betrayed your fears.

“I left because you were working with Hydra, Brock,” you said, willing your voice to stay even. “Because I don’t want to be with a terrorist–”

“Terrorist!” he shouted, and for one blessed moment he stepped away from you. Unfortunately, he was soon back and closer than ever, his nose practically pressed to your own. “I’m a mercenary, sweetheart. I work for the highest bidder, and don’t you go pretending you’re not just the same as me.”

“I’m not like you. I don’t work for Hydra. I don’t work for SHIELD anymore either. I’m doing real work, good work, with the–”

“With the Avengers. Yeah. I heard.”

Despite his claims to have already known about your present employment, Brock appeared put off by the news. He turned away from you, pressed his hand to his mouth, and shook his head. You took advantage of his distraction to again attempt to get at least one hand out of your shackles. Too bad they seemed to be made for someone much, much stronger than you.

And then Brock was back, smiling so widely that his eyes turned to half-moons inside their scarred lids.

“I was good to you, wasn’t I? Brought you flowers, like a good boyfriend. Took you out for dinner. Walked you home from work, cuddled with you at night, bought your goddamn tampons! And what did it get me? What good did any of that do?”

To that you had no proper response. All you could do was stare, captivity momentarily forgotten in the light of the dawning realization that your ex-boyfriend had gone completely insane. Yes, Brock had done all of those things for you, for years. You had been happy with him for all those years. You had thought you’d been lucky to be with the guy that headed STRIKE, one of SHIELD’S golden boys, the most handsome man in the whole organization. All the same:

“I don’t date Nazis,” you snarled.

“Is that what you think I was? A Nazi?” Brock shook his head, but then seemed to drop the subject, his mind wandering as his dark eyes traveled up above your head. “Never let the higher ups take you in, either. Wasn’t like they didn’t want to. Good enough to be an Avenger, Agent [L Name]. Could’ve had you conditioned by someone who knew what they were doing, and we would have never been in this mess.”

“What mess?” you asked, if only to keep Brock talking. A little further, and you thought you might have a chance of dislocating your wrist just enough to slip out of Brock’s restraints.

Brock said nothing.

“Brock,” you said once more, “what mess?”

He seemed to only then remember you were there. His eyes drew slowly down until he was staring right into yours, seemingly oblivious to your desire to get free. “

Tell me you still love me, [Name],” he said, sounding almost normal.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me you still love me,” he repeated. “Tell me you still love me, and none of this has to happen.”

“None of what has to happen?”

“Just tell me that you’ll take me back! The rest of it doesn’t matter. Just tell me that you still love me!”

You mustered all of your energy, looked Brock dead in the eye, and spat in his disgusting face. He froze.

“The man I fell in love with was just that–a man.,” you said breathlessly. “What are you? Some burnt shell, that’s all that left. Not even enough courage to take me on face to face. You’re pathe–”

One thickly gloved hand shot out viper-fast and put your jaw in a vice grip. Brock’s lips pulled back into a snarl that gave way to another laugh that raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Careful, [Name]. I brought you here to kill you. Don’t make my job too easy.” He winked, a gesture that you did not return. His smile faded as his fingers gripped your chin even tighter. “Either you’re leaving here mine, or you ain’t leaving here at all.”

“And what is that supposed to mean? You’ve been babbling since you got me here. Tell me what your plan is, if you’re so proud of it.”

He considered you for a long moment–too long. Your jaw ached; you could feel his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. At last, he released you, then gestured up to where he had been looking only a few minutes before.

“You’re sittin’ in a real special chair, darling,” he said as your own eyes traveled upward.

Your heart gave a great thud as you realized exactly where you were. You’d seen the Winter Soldier’s files, and unless you could get out of there, you were screwed.

“Brock–”

“See, this here bank’s a front for Hydra,” Brock went on as though he couldn’t hear you. Who knew? He was far gone enough that maybe he couldn’t. “But they dropped it like a hot potato after Rogers fucked over Project INSIGHT. Once upon a time, they used to strap Cap’s old war buddy into this and fry the living daylights out of his skull. Only saw it done a few times myself, but how hard could it be?”

“You wouldn’t.”

His new, predatory smile returned. “Wouldn’t I? How do you know I haven’t already done it? That’s what this setup is for, after all. Memory loss. And I want you back pretty damn bad.”

He had a good point. Your head definitely felt like it had been put through the ringer–but unless a lot more time had passed than your body could account for, you still had all your memories. In fact, you had enough memories to know that you weren’t about to beg this man for your life.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” you said in as dangerous a voice as you could muster.

Brock ignored you, walking over to where a very obvious lever had been installed near your chair. Before you could say anything more, he pulled it, and your chair–Bucky’s chair–shifted slowly backwards. The mechanism above your head jolted to life, then drifted down toward your head. Only then did Brock answer you:

“Who’s gonna come for you? SHIELD? Don’t make me laugh. They know about us. They’ll think you were in on it all along. A Nazi terrorist, just like you said. Always spouting the company line. And the Avengers?” Here he did laugh. “Think they got better things to care about than where you slipped off to in the middle of the night. Never got in the habit of staying in one place too long, did you?”

He was right. He was right, and what was worse, begging was beginning to seem a better and better option the longer the whirring in the chair went on. You rattled your wrists, rattled your ankles, arched your back to strain with all your strength against your bonds, but nothing moved or loosened. Of course it didn’t. This machine was built for a super soldier. What were you compared to Bucky Barnes?

Brock Rumlow’s haunting laugh started up again in nearby. His hand reached out to press your shoulder back hard against the backrest.

“Don’t worry so much, [Name],” he said. “I might not have the finesse to pick and choose what you forget, but it’ll all be over soon either way. When you wake up, we’ll either be back together or–well, you’ll believe that we are when I tell you. I’ve got big plans for us. Real big plans.”

You opened your mouth to retort. How, you didn’t really know–but any possibility of a retort vanished the very next second. All that came out of your lips was a scream as the surge of electricity from HYDRA’s brainwashing device slammed into your head. You opened your mouth again, and let out another scream. Brock chuckled one last time before he gave your shoulder a final squeeze.

“Welcome back to the dream team, [Name],” he said, but Brock Rumlow had vanished from your thoughts. The whole world had vanished from your thoughts. If you weren’t lucky, neither of them were ever coming back. Everything from there on out was pain and order, order and pain.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #brock rumlow #crossbones #avengers #marvel #mcu #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow x you #brock rumlow x y/n #crossbones x reader #crossbones x you #crossbones x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader #repost #one shot

[deliciousangelfestival]

xWicked Romance : Chapter 4 : He’s cute.

Character : Mob!Steve Rogers x Retired Assassin Female Reader

Summary : Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

Warning : No smuts, since I don’t know how to write it. Peace y’all.

Steve woke up because he felt someone softly brushing his hair. He opened his eyes, finding her hand stopped. Both of them are lying on his bed.

Her head still laying on his arm, he move her body closer to feel her warmth. He bury his head into the crook of her neck and mumbled "Don't stop."

“That’s a nice way to wake me up.” His voice sounded deeper and raspy. 

(Y/N) chuckled softly when she heard his voice. “You’re too excited last night.”

She suddenly turned her body and jumped off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Steve was surprised that she's easily escape from his arms.

“Stay there; I’ll be back.”

When she left the room, Steve noticed she was wearing his shirt and boxer. 

The smell of bacon and pancakes made him look at his door. She came in, bringing a tray filled with food, a glass of water, egg, bacon, pancake, and coffee. It's been a while since he had breakfast in his own house. 

Steve is confused if today is his birthday or not? He never got pampered like this. Usually, it was him the one who did this kind of thing. Not the other way around. 

He sat up, the blanket only covering his waist this time. (Y/N) gently put the food tray on his lap. She saw Steve had a confused expression on his face.

“You need a big breakfast to start your day.” (Y/N) said.

“How did you manage to do all of this?” Steve asked after he finished drinking water. 

“Because I woke up too early. I made breakfast for both of us.” (Y/N) said, walking in with another tray of foods. She sat beside him and kissed his side lips. “You completely tired me out last night.”

Steve gave a loud laugh; he never could imagine a girl like (Y/N) not just brave but also good at cooking. He didn’t notice she was able to slip out from his arm. Because of his habit he got from the military, Steve could get awake so easily even with a small voice and movement.

Both of them enjoy their breakfast together, a few dirty jokes there but not much since it’s still early in the morning. After that, they have another hot session in the bathroom. (snu snu time.)

The time they spent together (Y/N) told Steve he is free to ask anything from her. She’s pretty sure if she tells him everything about how she grows up, he wouldn’t believe any word that came out of her mouth. 

Steve doesn’t mind it; he prefers her life to be mysterious. She never failed to give him a surprise. He likes her spontaneity. Perhaps some day she could give him a heart attack. 

While they put on their clothes (Y/N) phone vibrates with a pop message from Peter saying he’s downstairs to pick her up. 

“Do you have to go?” 

Steve felt the time was not enough when she told him that she needed to go. 

“Come on, just stay a bit more,” Steve asked her with a pleading tone. He holds her wrist when she is ready to go out. (Y/N) saw his puppy eyes couldn’t help blurting out, “So cute.” 

Steve get worried; no one would dare to call him the mafia boss cute. At the moment, he questioned his masculinity. In which part she saw him cute. 

“I have too.” Her finger caressed his cheeks and touched his beard. “Let’s have dinner tonight. Okay?”

Steve answered, “Alright, see you tonight.” Before he released her, he gave a surprise kiss on her lips. 

With hazy eyes, he pulls away while (Y/N) is still shocked with the kissed “Wow.”

Steve chuckled and winked at her. “That’s a sneak peek for tonight.”

(Y/N) smiled, she doesn’t want to light a fire from Steve. She closed the door and left the house. 

When she walked out, (Y/N) saw two older couples get out of a car. She knew who it was. They are Steve’s mother, Sarah Rogers, and the former mafia boss Joseph Rogers. 

She looks at them as a couple; they look lovely together. But (Y/N) noticed when Sarah looked at her, she became a scary mother in law like on the TV. 

Sarah walk like a lady and stop infront of her. She told (Y/N), “Listen carefully. Regardless of what happens between you two. I can’t accept you. I know you are different from any other woman. Even if you can stop Brock with just one bullet, I’m not going to let some girl use my son again.” 

After she said her words, Sarah turned and left (Y/N) alone while Joseph finally followed her. 

Sarah walks too fast; she turns and talks to her husband, “Is she still looking?”

Joseph glanced through his shoulder “Yeah, and she’s waving at us.”

Sarah was bewildered. “What kind of woman Steve got into this time?” She thought the woman would get angry, but it turned out she’s still there and waved at them. 

“First, it’s a C.I.A then a journalist. Now what?” Sarah sighed. 

Joseph also feels the same way as his wife. Their son picks a girl that always reveals their business. It’s pretty funny seeing his wife getting so worked up. 

“Alright, don’t get mad. Let’s meet our son.” Joseph hugged his wife's shoulder. 

When the bell rang, Steve hoped it's (Y/N) the one who stands in front of his door. He didn’t even check the monitor; he quickly opened the door. 

"You're back…." Steve didn’t even finish his speech. His smile dropped when he saw his parents.

"Stevie." Sarah hugs him. 

"Mom? Dad? What are you- AHHH!!!” 

Steve hissed when his mother pinched his chest. He looked at his father with a look of ‘What’s all that about?’

Joseph answered, “We met her when we arrived.”

Steve finally understands why his mother became moody this morning. 

“I can see why you like her. She seems different.” Joseph whispered at his son while Steve nodded all the time. 

Sarah suddenly jumped in. “Are you sure she’s good for you? What’s her job? Please don’t tell me she’s a lawyer or a judge?”

Steve patted her back to calm her down. “Mom, calm down; I’m not dating from that side this time. She’s an analyst in automotive for a private company.”

“Ooh, that explains the nice car,” Joseph murmured. Sarah glared at her husband. 

“I hope you don’t get a heartbreak this time.” Sarah felt pity towards her son, Steve could be scary when he’s mad, but when he’s sad, he looks like a golden retriever puppy. 

He understands why his mother asked him this cause she saw how broken he was when his relationship ended with Peggy. 

####

From day one, they have obstacles because of their jobs. Peggy stands to abide by the law while he already saw how corrupt and hypocritical the government is. He saw his comrade die for nothing. 

His world almost crumbled when he found out that Peggy was ready to put his family into jail. And the most hurtful thing is that she did that to get a promotion. 

'What am I to you?' He asked her this question. She was unable to give him the answer.  

####

But behind the thunder, there’s a rainbow; his mother, Sarah, she used to not give a damn about what Steve and her husband did in mobster stuff. When she found out her son got used, she went livid. 

She told her son to make them regret treating him like that. Sarah knows her son is a mobster, his life is always related to dark stuff, but he always makes sure to treat his own woman like a queen. 

And right now, he knew he moved too fast with (Y/N), but he felt like she shares the same value with him. 

.

.

.

In the afternoon, Steve is in the car with Sam and Bucky. They’re heading to the hospital right now. 

Steve was looking at the window; he could see his reflection. He suddenly remembered what (Y/N) said in the morning, “Guys.”

Bucky and Sam ‘Hmmm’ at the same time.

“Do I look cute?”

Sam stops the car abruptly. Suddenly everything became silent. While Bucky cursed, “What the f#%* Steve?”

“Alright, the answer is pretty clear.” Steve scoffed, he doesn’t want to continue; their reaction is enough for him. 

Sam and Bucky are confused because their friend just asks them nonsense questions. 

“Well, we have arrived,” Sam said; he looked at Bucky. “You follow him; I will stay here. Make sure he doesn't get plastic surgery.”

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of the car with Bucky. 

“Is she the one who said you’re cute?”

Steve nodded.

“Hmm, you completely whipped. Well Steve, I completely understand,” Bucky tells him they’re in the same position since he’s with Natasha. 

Both of them stopped at the V.I.P patient room. They saw two bodyguards standing in front of the door. The bodyguard steps away when Steve approaches them. One of the bodyguards opened the door for him. 

Steve turns to Bucky. “Wait here.”

“Sure.”

Steve walked into the room; he thought Brock still fainted. It turns out he’s awake and eating. 

Brock was wearing a neck brace, his two legs wrapped in a cast, his left arm also wrapped in a cast, and his elbow fractured. 

Brock lifted his head when he saw Steve. He clicked his tongue. 

“Your girlfriend almost killed me.”’

“Huh?” Steve responded. 

Steve didn’t know that (Y/N) visited Brock before him. 

####

What happened 4 hours ago 

It was Peter who picked up (Y/N) at Steve’s place with her car.

She gets into the car and puts on her seatbelt. “Let’s go back to my apartment first; I need to change my clothes. I have to meet someone later.”

“Who?”

“A friend, he got into an accident last night.”

“Hmm.”

When they arrived at her place, Peter asked, “Let me guess your sick friend is Brock?”

“Yes.”

Peter shook his head. “Poor guy.”

.

.

At the hospital.

Brock is feeling drowsy because of the painkiller. Because of the car crash, his neck got the impact. 

He saw a shadow figure in front of him, “You!!!”

“Good afternoon Rumlow.”

“Hmph!!!” Brock wants to strangle her; he remembered her from last night. 

(Y/N) walked closer to his infusion bottle; she took out something from her pocket. 

“Wha--”

“You see, Rumlow, I kinda like Steve, but the Tom & Jerry fight between you and him has to stop. I don’t want you to appear and ruined the romantic moment like last night.”

Brock finally could see what she’s holding in her hand. (Y/N) notices he is looking at the syringe that she has.

“What inside this syringe could put you to sleep forever. You know what I’m capable of, right?”

Brock cursed, “#$%^*!!!”

(Y/N) nodded. “Correct, so if you still want to leave, just stay 1 million km from us, okay?”

Brock defeatedly answered, “Okay.”

“Great, go back to rest.” She opens the cap of the syringe and injects it into his infusion bottle.

“Bi*$#!!”

“Relax, it’s just another painkiller for you.” After she said that, Brock eventually fell asleep. 

When he woke up, his bodyguard gave him a food container with a small note 'I'm sorry, she’s pretty scary.'

####

Back to the present

“Really?” Steve was astounded.

“Your new girl is crazy.” Brock clicked his tongue. He can’t imagine having a girlfriend like (Y/N).

In Steve’s mind, her threat towards Brock is nothing. His heart fluttered when he knew what she did for him. Never in his life, a woman would threaten his rival for him. He never get spoiled like this. 

Steve chuckled; he got up from the chair and mumbled on the way out of the hospital ward, remembering what (Y/N) had done for him “My cute devil.”

He finds it cute, though; he never had a brave enough girlfriend to threaten his rival. He used to be the one who protects his girl. 

Steve wants to meet her again; lucky for him, she texts him first and gives her location. 

.

.

.

Steve arrived at the high-end restaurant that, even for him, it’s difficult to book a table. She won’t stop giving him a surprise. He saw her wearing a dress that fitted her figure. She looked beautiful and confident.  

“(Y/N).”

(Y/N) raised her face gently, the corner of her lips moving upward when she saw him. 

Steve felt like he could drown in it. Both of them had dinner together. While they’re eating, he needs to say something important to her. They were having wine when he grasps her hand. It made her look at him. 

He has to say it to give her the chance to walk away “(Y/N); I like you. I feel a connection between us. But being with me means sometimes you will be facing unexpected things. I know you are strong, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

She tilted her head a little and looked at Steve in front of her. She pinched his chin lightly. “Steve, I don’t care how many enemies you have.”

“I will kill them one by one.” 

She wasn’t saying a flirty line towards him instead of a deadly one. Everyone said she’s scary, but for him, she’s a great blessing in his life. 

“You know that I’m capable. I don’t mind working as your partner. Not just as your girlfriend.”

‘Thump!’ Steve's heart fluttered when he heard that word.

“Girlfriend?” 

“You don’t want to?” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows. 

Steve quickly answered, “Please be my girlfriend.” It would be crazy to decline it; he wants to show the world that she belongs to him. He’s afraid if he’s too late, she will slip away from his finger. To put it more plainly, Steve may not have met another woman like (Y/N). 

A/N: Thank you for the likes and reblogged my post. 

To my followers and people who liked my post, I hope you don’t mind if I tag your name:

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#mob!steve rogers x reader #Marvel AU #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #mob!steve #Steve Rogers