#(a reminder that my bucky has long hair in all verses)

[builder051]

Honey, you broke my alarm clock

Hero verse

Warnings for nightmare/night terror with all the bells and whistles, emeto, and mentions of violence/gore (think Winter Soldier missions.), and maybe a little romance as a prelude to the big, messy, exciting part. :)

______________

They go to bed early. The pillows squash against each other, and Bucky uses his good arm to pull Steve close. He dips his chin to trail soft kisses along Steve’s jawline and down his neck. They both have stubble, and the sensation of brushing his face against Steve’s reminds him of crushed velvet. It makes his body warm.

Steve shaves every other day. Bucky shaves when he gets around to it. He usually finds the time to do so after somebody, namely Natasha, gently teases him about having the look of a homeless nomad. Bucky takes it in stride,chuckling and putting his fingers to his bushy sideburns. Once evening comes, though, he stays in the bathroom long after he finishes showering, fumbling with the electric clippers.

Things like that have settled, now that time has passed. Steve knows how to keep his overbearing desire to be helpful in check. Ready, but just in case. And Bucky has started standing ground and knowing to what he is entitled—Audubon binoculars, purposely burnt coffee, bad shaves, and whatever other whims may show up, bringing him back to his old self while also fostering a new outlook on the world.

Bucky’s signs are easier to read now. His body language is less rigid, and he seems to letting the blockades in his mind fall away. Sometimes the feelings and memories are small, and whether heartwarming or haunting, he’s more comfortable talking. Relaxing. Resting his head on Steve’s shoulder for a hug, or, just as easily, a place to cry.

Bucky sighs into Steve’s collarbone and nudges his knee between Steve’s legs. They’re chest to chest as if plastered together, and the kissing stops. Bucky breathes deeply into Steve’s shirt instead.

“Yeah.” Steve strokes Bucky’s freshly combed hair. This is as far as they’re going tonight, and they both know it, but this is still a state of bliss.

Steve’s out and floating into sleep within minutes. He doesn’t get the chance to see Bucky’s last smile before he nods off as well.

Steve sleeps through the night now, most of the time. A car’s screeching tires or the cracking of an ice-coated tree branch still wake him, actively and abruptly, causing the occasional 2AM date with the muted television and a bowl of cereal.

He’s placid in his dreamland tonight, subconsciously moving through the breathing and grounding exercises he’s been practicing since he came off the ice. The dream itself seems plotless and easily forgettable. Steve has to remind himself that it’s a good thing. Even if it’s probably the placebo effect of the tabs of melatonin Sam had pressed on him after the support group meeting a few weeks ago.

Tonight, though. Or perhaps tomorrow. The timing hardly matters. It’s the elbow to the side of the head that jerks Steve back into consciousness. His ear takes the brunt of the blow, and the outer sears while everything behind the eardrum feels sloshy and completely out of alignment. Though he feels woozy and a little lightheaded, Steve scrambles to find his reflexes.

Something flails across Steve’s face, and even with his hands up to deflect the hit, he’s forced flat against the mattress while a second wild swing takes out the alarm clock on the bedside table and sends it crashing to the floor.

Oh well. O’dark thirty it is. Great time for combat.

Bucky’s arm extends to slap Steve again, but this time, he’s ready. He snatches Bucky’s wrist in one hand and his elbow in the other. “Buck?” Steve asks. “Hey. It’s me. It’s ok.”

Bucky’s back arches, and he scrabbles at the bedding with his feet. His heels dig into the mattress as he bicycles his knees, giving him little resistance or headway.

He’s yelling, too. Bucky makes a barking shriek at first, expressing desperation and pain, like someone with their sleeves on fire. It grows in intensity, though, and the screams grow louder and harsher. His whole body writhes, then Bucky’s jaw stretches open, larger than seems humanly possible. Steve’s afraid he’ll split his lips, but he knows the demons have to come out before he can pull Bucky back down into the here and now.

Bucky’s ragged breathing cuts through the noise until the scream becomes a hack, and his tongue protrudes as if it’s trying to part company with his throat. His chin tucks, and the gurgle preceding the heave bellows out.

“Buck—“ Steve tries, maneuvering up to touch his shoulder.

Steve’s voice is probably impossible to hear above Bucky’s aspiration and retching. There’s an intense gurgle, and Bucky cranks his head backward.

Projectile vomit arches over the foot of the bed. By the spattering sound it make, Steve guesses the bathroom door caught the brunt. No time to care, though. Steve gets his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, trying to provide enough pressure without making Bucky feel pinned.

Bucky continues to cough and spit out strings of bile coated in sick. He doesn’t seem to mind much when steve pushes him up onto his side. The violent twitching and areas of unbreakable tone slowly release to full-body quiver. Steve spoons him from behind, steadying with his chest and his knees. He keeps his head up, though. He watches a drop of clammy sweat run from Bucky’s hairline to his chin.

Bucky struggles to wipe the tear with his shoulder.

“Alright,” Steve tells him.

Bucky swallows, then heaves again. “I’m —fine,” he chokes. “‘s alright.” The tension in his back muscles soften, and the bedsprings groan as the mattress swallows him up again.

“You need to talk about it?” Steve offers. “Get it all out? Well, the rest of it?”

Bucky leans back into Steve’s arms, but ducks his head and lifts his stump arm as if blocking a sizzling stage light. “Eh,” he sighs.

Steve waits.

“A —thing. Gavotte?” Bucky’s eyes are hazy, and he looks as if he’s digging hard into the drawer to find his least favorite socks. Looking for a memory he doesn’t want to remember. “Is that a word? Is that a thing?”

“Yeah.” Steve keeps his voice measured. At the moment, he’s a dictionary. Once the words become clear, Bucky will tip into the proper pool of emotion for processing. Dealing. Healing? Maybe that’s too much to ask. Steve resumes his soft monotone. “Like a rope? A string? Like, with handles, so you can…you know.” They’re both fluent in the language of mutual acknowledgement, sans the details.

“Nnmph.” Bucky shakes his head a fraction of an inch. “Razor wire.” He pauses. “Pop goes the, well… You can guess how it ends.”

Bucky seems to collapse into himself. A croak escapes from his throat, and Steve wonders if he’s going to be sick again. There’s only a shrug, though. And a sigh.

“Yeah…” Steve runs his hand down Bucky’s back, feeling each vertebrae as he goes from the cervical at the nape of Bucky’s neck down to the lumbar and the waistband of his underwear.

They rest in silence. Bucky’s ragged breathing slows. Then it falls into the same rhythm as Steve’s.

“How we doing?” Steve asks. “I’ll grab a fresh pillow and you can go back to sleep.”

“Nah.” Bucky pushes himself up into a sitting position and slides his feet toward the floor. “I feel… gross.” He makes a face. “Shower?”

“Sure, yeah,” Steve gets out of bed as well.

The door to the bathroom sits lazily ajar, unabashedly showing the results of it’s previous baptism in bile and mucous and un digested dinner. Steve gives it a smirk, then dampens a towel under the faucet.

“Go on ahead,” Steve encourages Bucky. “I’ll get this and fix up the bed.”

Bucky doesn’t reply right away. When he’s free of his sweaty t shirt, he says, “I’ll wait.”

“Huh?” Steve wipes away most of the mess, then squats to catch the dribbles that hit the floor.

“For you to come with.” Bucky tilts his head, and Steve can’t quite tell if Bucky’s attempting to state the obvious or if he feels embarrassed for asking.

“Oh.” Steve smiles, even though it still doesn’t click. Not that it matters now. “Yeah, I’ll get in with you. Just a sec.”

Exactly how much time it takes for Steve to stuff the dirty towel into the laundry, he doesn’t know. The clock’s still somewhere on the floor between the bedskirt and table legs. He adds it to the list of things to address later.

A quick glance to the window shows striated shades of royal and navy, faded into grey and the faintest tinge of pink. O’dawn thirty, then?

Steve shakes his head to dispel the compulsion to keep track of ticking hands and fractional mathematics. He has better things to do. More important.

The bathroom’s already steamy and scented with shampoo. Once he slides open the glass door and breathes in the inviting humid air, Steve automatically relaxes. There’s still worry. Still concern.

But it eases out of the way.

Now is the moment for caring. Supporting. Finding pleasure in the small things. Because, after all, they’re in endless, timeless, and ever-expanding love.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mcu #marvel #captain america #heroverse #Steve rogers #Bucky barnes #winter soldier #hurt/comfort #sickfic #nightmares #night terrors #PTSD #gore/violence #emeto #emetophilia #Illness and injury

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Warmth

Pairing: Alpha Beefy Bucky x Female Mutant Reader

Summary: Being paired off with Bucky Barnes on a mission was hard enough. Hell, the two of you being a part of Hydra a long time ago was already hard enough. But when the two of you are forced to seek shelter in an Avengers safehouse, it gets even worse.

Because there's only one freaking bed.

Will you survive the night with the grumpy Alpha by your side? Or will you rip your hair out?

Who knows. The nights are unpredictable.

What you do know is, is that Bucky Barnes is too fucking hot for his damn good.

Maybe you just might pull your hair out.

Warnings: Heavy A/B/O dynamics. Mentions of past torture from Hydra for both Bucky and the Reader. This Bucky is sort of a mix between CW!Bucky, (hence the beefy!Bucky), but also TFATWS!Bucky bc I love grumpy old man, sassy Bucky. Some angst/hurt/comfort, because I'm a hoe for angst. No heats/ruts in this lil fic, just good ole rough smut. Some biting and some mild blood too. This sex would be considered unprotected irl, but in the a/b/o verse, I don't think you'd need protection??? Who knows. Italics are for when Bucky and the Reader are talking in Russian. The Reader also has a nightmare, which ties back in with the whole mention of past torture from Hydra. If I missed any other warnings in this, let me know and I'll make sure to add them!

Additional Notes: This was written for @agentofbarnes's writing challenge! Congrats on 7k, Zee! I'm sorry this took so long. I started writing this in July, and let it marinate for far too long. But it's here now. I hope you enjoy!

All writing mistakes in this fic are mine, as usual.

Word Count: 4,602

Hell.

This was absolute pure fucking hell.

As you and the former Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes himself stared at the front door of one of the safehouses for the Avengers in case of emergencies, you couldn't help make eye contact with him.

Great. This was just great.

No one, not even Clint had told you that it would be snowing in freaking January in rural Ohio, of all places.

Then again, you had faintly remembered doing gymnastics before you had been taken by Hydra with some arrogant Alpha guy named Lance. He had been a real pain in your ass and you remembered you had made him cry once. After you had escaped from Hydra, you had bumped into him again. Funnily enough, he was still just as scared of you as he was all those years ago. Which, you know, was nice.

But what was not nice was the Alpha that was currently looking back at you. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, Buck, White Panther, Jesus, Bionic Staring Machine- (the last three nicknames, all given to him by the Alpha Sam Wilson himself), scowled at you. His blue eyes even narrowed at you.

You wouldn't call what you and Bucky had a friendship. You two weren't even enemies. Heck, colleagues? Teammates? That was just putting it lightly, the relationship you had with the Alpha. Even when you had been captured and brainwashed into serving Hydra, the two of you had never crossed paths. It had been only after Hydra had fallen, did the two of you actually meet in person. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Nope. No with a capital N.O.

"Come on, let's go." Bucky all but grumbled. Realizing he didn't have the key to get inside, he looked at you. Like you had the key or something.

"James, I don't have the key." Bucky groaned. "Do you have a bobby pin, Omega? Something?" He asked in Russian. You plucked a bobby pin from your hair. A stray piece of hair fell. Putting the flat side in, you managed to unlock the door. You turned to look at him, giving him a toothy grin.

"Learned that from Pit Pocketing for Dummies, 101."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. You just sniggered as you opened the door, greeted by cool air smacking against your face.

It made you shiver.

Because, unlike Bucky, you did not have any of that good ole supersoldier serum in your veins.

You were a mutant that could control water. Sometimes, you wished that you had the ability to control fire, because then, at least you could be warm in such dire situations such as these.

Taking your shoes off and putting them at the door, you surveyed the place.

It was a small house. Like a cozy little cottage. Probably only had at least two rooms at the max. It certainly gave off that vibe. There was a fireplace in the living room. A fully furnished kitchen, complete with a little wooden table with benches instead of individual chairs near the window.

Your grip on your bag of clothes became tighter as you realized that you needed to take a shower. Your stomach grumbled, alerting Bucky that you were hungry. Your comms had died. The two of you could contact no one until you charged them.

Which meant for at least tonight, or whenever the snowstorm outside stopped, you only had Bucky Barnes for company.

Well. That certainly would be pleasant.

"Go and shower first. I'll make dinner."

***

After your shower, you walked back into the kitchen, your sweet smell that reminded Bucky of deserts that his Ma used to make for him and his younger sisters back in Brooklyn drifted towards his nose. Thanks to the serum, he had already smelled it a mile away.

Cinamon rolls. Apple turnovers. Apple pies. Pumpkin pies. Bucky felt his Alpha rumble at the smell. Even Winter stirred at the familiar scent he loved so much.

When Bucky had gotten the trigger words wiped away from him due to Princess Shuri's genius, the Winter Soldier hadn't gone away from him. Rather, Winter had become a part of Bucky. Winter had been what Bucky became to survive Hydra. Winter was Bucky, only darker. More possessive. The deepest, darkest thing of him that the Wakandan Elders had helped him find again and reconcile with.

It was during times like this, making dinner in the kitchen that reminded him so much of his time back in Wakanda. Taking care of his farm and his pet goats, (that he sadly couldn't bring back with him when coming back to America), that he missed the most. It was domestic, in a way. He could almost feed into the fantasy, the thought that you were his Omega, his Bondmate, and that he was just making dinner for you.

From an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like Bucky didn't like you. That he just tolerated you. Treated you like how he treated everyone else in his life.

But it was the contrary.

He liked you.

He liked you very, very much. Other than Steve, Natalia, and heck, even the winged pigeon- you were one of the only people to truly understand him. You were probably even on the same playing field as Natalia, because you knew what it was like to be controlled by the Russian government. You held him at an arm's length at most, and you never treated him like he was some fragile, broken man. When you treated his wounds, you never fretted like other Omega's. Nor did you dottle. Ask him if he was okay every five seconds. It was disappointing in a way.

Bucky turned his head, just as you hopped yourself onto the counter, away from the conduction stove.

The smell of butter pasta was filling your nose. You watched with rapt attention as Bucky shut off the stove, grabbed the freshly grated cheese, and dumping it in. To hell with calories. Stirring quickly for a few seconds, he stopped. Turning his head to look at you, he gave you a low smirk. His scent of something sandalwood, oceany filling your nose. It made your Omega preen.

"Get some bowls, will ya doll? And forks too." Hopping off of the countertops, he heard a chirping, yet sarcastic reply.

"Yes, Sarge."

He felt his pants tighten at the thought. Hearing you grab all of the stuff, he swallowed.

Not that he would tell you that.

No.

Never.

***

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking with me."

So, as luck would have it. There weren't two bedrooms.

Nope.

There was only one.

Not only that, the entire room was fully furnished. A closet was on the left side of the door, against the wall. There was a window and just a bit to right, in the middle of the room, was a queen-sized bed, all made up with all the fluffiest blankets, comforters, and pillows imaginable.

"And you're sure this is the only room?" Bucky said. "Yeah! It's the only one, James. It's either this or the couch. And I'm not sleeping on the couch. It's too cold. Whoever built this safehouse didn't have any heaters built in either. Fuck, is this how I die? Freezing to death?" Your voice was getting higher with concern.

Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"No, doll. You're not to freeze to death. We're going to share that bed."

You turned your head towards him like he had just grown a second head. "What?" you exclaimed. "No. No, no, no. Noooo. James. Nu-uh. Uh-uh. I'm not going to sleep with you in my tank top and underwear. the least you've seen me in is a pair of short shorts and a tank top."

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Get yourself together Barnes.

Don't throw her over your shoulder.

Don't do that.

"You're a water mutant, doll. You're not a fire mutant. You aren't a supersoldier either. I'm not letting you freeze to death. I'll keep you warm all night. Better yet, don't sleep in your tank top and shorts. Our body heats will do just fine." Bucky snapped at you. You were still trying to collect your thoughts.

And then the realization, the reality of your situation, smacked you right across the face.

Bucky was asking you to sleep naked.

With him.

In the same frigging bed together.

Oh you were going to die. You were going to die and go up to wherever other spirits went to after they died. You weren't really all that religious nor spiritual.

But tonight though?

Yeah. Maybe you believed. Maybe a little.

Just the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay," you grumbled, "I won't wear any clothes. Better yet, I'll even give you a show. That'll even out the odds, James."

***

Warm.

He was just oh so warm.

Your back was flush against his front, feeling skin-on-skin.

You had stopped shivering about an hour ago.

Bucky had scouted the safehouse, to see if there was actually a heater, in case you had missed anything.

Nope.

There were no heaters in the safehouse.

Absolutely none.

Not to mention, all of the blankets weren't as thick. From what Bucky had observed a few hours ago after dinner while you had tackled the task of doing the dishes, was that the safe house had been abandoned for a while. It was either that, or nobody had stocked this place up for a while.

He had chosen the latter.

With his strong arms wrapped around your stomach, he pulled you close. You were asleep. Dead asleep. Bucky felt and saw your body rise up and down as you slept, your breaths all evened out.

It was nice, almost. Outside was quiet. Bucky could hear other than your breathing only the soft wind blowing due to the snowstorm outside.

For a moment, Bucky was lulled into a sense of calm. His mind was clear. His Alpha and Winter were quiet. He didn't have to fret. Or look over his shoulder. Didn't have to second guess himself or his actions anymore.

And then he heard it.

Soft whimpers coming from the sweet-smelling Omega that he was currently holding in his arms. You had begun to squirm, arms thrashing out. Your legs smacked on his knees, trying to desperately claw yourself free from his tightening grip on you.

"... I'll be good... just don't chuck me in the freezer again... please sir... I hate it there... please don't chuck me in the freezer, please..." you were sobbing in your sleep. You started to blubber, continually trying to claw yourself out of Bucky's grip. The metal plates of his Vibrainum arm shifted as his metal fingers tightened around your stomach. Bucky knew not to apply too much pressure on you- you weren't like him, Steve, or Natalia. You didn't have the serum in you.

"Doll? Hey, doll. C'mon, wake up. It's not real." Bucky tried shaking you awake to no avail. You had continued to thrash in his arms.

Sniffling loudly, your Omega was thrashing in her cage, in the confines of your mind. She was whispering, yelling at you to wake up.

"Omega. Wake up."

Bucky didn't mean to use his Tone. But you were being so hysterical, shaking, and crying to the point where it was beginning to worry him. Your sweet scent had begun to twist and turn into something more burnt. Singed. It made his eyes water.

You stopped thrashing in his grip. Your body froze up at his use of his Tone. Your Omega stopped throwing her temper tantrum too. She had paused for a second.

Her Alpha had given her a Command.

So why wouldn't she listen?

Peering from her cage in the confines of your mind, she sighed happily.

Alpha. Alpha cares about us. She whispered in your ear.

Slowly returning to consciousness, you struggled to know where you were for a second.

You had been having a nightmare.

A full-fledged nightmare.

You hadn't had one of those in a while.

"... Where am I?" Your voice was gentle but confused.

You still didn't know if you were still in that godforsaken Hydra facility or not. But you just wanted to make sure.

"Here, doll. You're here with me. We're in Ohio, remember? Sharin' one bed together cause I don't wanna be a bad Alpha and letcha freeze to death." Bucky said.

You couldn't help it. You snuggled into him, hearing a deep rumble coming from his chest. Bucky's Alpha was pleased. Very pleased. Winter was quiet. Which surprised Bucky. The little shit was usually more vocal about his own needs these days.

For a moment, it felt okay. You felt that weird fog lifting. Your brain slowly settling in your current surroundings. Your sweet, filling scent that had twisted and burnt into something smoky and burnt was slowly wearing off.

You were still a little shaken up. You could still hear your screaming echoing in your head. Your voice trembling, and because you didn't know if you were still stuck in the facility, "How long?"

"Not long."

Bucky watched as you lifted your head up, blinking once. And then twice. And then again, just to be sure.

Your body felt like it still wasn't physically here. Your body still felt like it was back in the cryo chamber, stuck in that damn freezer. Bucky watched your chest heave up and down. Taking in deep breaths.

Then you flopped right back into your previous spot, your back facing his front. Bucky pulled you back with his metal arm. You heard the metal plates in his arm readjust and move. You couldn't help it. Your vagina throbbed at the sound. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wiggled a little bit.

A deep rumble had come from Bucky.

The metal-armed Alpha had pushed a little bit of his weight down on you. Making you feel all warm and safe with the sandalwood and salty scent wrapped all around you like a cocoon.

You wiggled up against him again, trying to get comfortable. Your eyes closed.

A deep groan came from Bucky.

Was he asleep?

You stopped moving.

Another groan came from Bucky. His arms were wrapped around you. Not tightly, but still. It was kinda nice in a way. You could feel every muscle on his broad chest against your back.

Maybe Bucky had the right idea to sleep naked after all.

You shifted again. Trying to wiggle out a little out of the embrace.

A deep growl rumbled from Bucky. His grip on you tightened. You squirmed against him again.

Voice gravelly, "Stop moving."

Your eyes flew open.

He was awake.

And you had been-

Letting out a hiss, Bucky pushed his entire weight onto you and grinded his half-hard cock against your ass cheeks. Not even caring about if his entire weight would crush you, because of the serum.

He saw red.

Pure absolute red.

You choked. A needy little whimper filled the room.

Bucky's metal hand traveled down, all the way down to your pussy, his knee pushing your legs apart. You were panting in anticipation, eyes wide as saucers. His metal fingers were shoved deep, all the way to the knuckles. A pitiful whine left your lips. A needy whine too.

When he entered you, a choked sob escaped from your lips. Your hands curled into fists, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the formerly brainwashed assassin let out a growl.

"So sick and tired of you teasin' me," was what the former Winter Soldier growled under his breath, hissing at the way your cunt wrapped around him. Slick was smeared around your inner thighs, and you couldn't help but sob at the feeling of being so full.

Bucky was groaning above you, his hands nearing shaking.

Never had he ever thought he could ever get to do this again.

Because Bucky very much still liked sex. He very much so was a sexual creature. Being inside you gave him flashes of his life before Hydra. It made him remember a much skinner, smaller Steve. A much duller, war-stricken Brooklyn. It made him remember the giggles of Omegas. It made him remember his Ma's cooking growing up. Rebecca's giggles in his ears. Just like the old times.

Not for the first time in his life, he didn't feel trapped.

He felt free.

This was freeing to him.

And when he began to move, position his hips against your back, smacking roughly. Good enough to leave marks in the morning.

Wet, squishing noise echoed noisily every time he bottomed out of you. Every thrust in, filling you, completing you. It sent you gasping and crying out into the pillows. His hands- both metal and flesh, reached under you, to grab ahold of your breasts in a tight grip that only made you sob for more.

"More, more, more, please James, please-"

Something snapped in him.

Broke.

Bucky had never felt this feral before. The last time he felt this feral had been the hours when he first presented.

You whined loudly when he slid out of you, crying out at the empty feeling. Your Omega screeched in alarm.

Why had her Alpha stopped? Why?

Grabbing ahold of your legs, he lifted them up. Before he thrusted back in again, filling you up to the brim. It was deeper than last time, and his cock hit that spongy part. Hit your g-spot so good that you screamed into the pillows.

You were coming. You were coming so fast, that deep coil inside you snapping like a bomb wire being cut that you never got the chance to feel your programs. Your body jolted, spasmed. Your legs lifted off of the bed or at least tried to. Bucky's body weight was still keeping you down. So all you could do was grip the bedsheets when Bucky started to pound into you again, taking all he could.

You couldn't help yourself. You glanced back, just to take a glimpse of him.

James Buchanan Barnes looked downright feral and your pussy clenched around him deeper at the sight. as if she knew.

Every thrust made him go deeper, hitting your cervix every time. It made your second orgasm piggyback off of your first one, sobbing into the pillows. It was only when your second orgasm came, your walls clenching down onto his cock that Bucky's teeth sank into your shoulder, shattering, breaking the skin there. The taste of copper filling his mouth. Bucky let out a grunt as he came. Filling you up with so much of his jizz that he was sure it would drip from you tomorrow morning.

Bucky lifted his mouth from your shoulder.

Pants filled the room as the two of you tried to regain yourselves.

Bucky shifted, moving off of you and lying beside you. His eyes weren't black anymore. They were back to their normal blue. They reminded you of the sea in the morning on a peaceful day.

Your hand came to touch his face. Your hand faltered, trembled though. Because you were nervous.

"It's okay," his voice was deeper, huskier. It made your pussy throb. "You can touch me. It's okay."

Your hands came to touch, cup his jaw. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft. Your lips moved together, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss became deeper. You hadn't expected it to become deeper. You had been just going for an innocent kiss.

You swore.

Like- you really did.

You didn't expect to be fully making out with James Buchanan Barnes.

But it wasn't like you were complaining though.

Because you weren't.

Bucky was the first one to pull away. He could see how red, bruised your lips looked. He didn't recoil from your gentle touch on his face. He welcomed it. He truly did. Hands holding your hips, he looked at you.

His lips traveled down to your mating gland. He touched over it with his tongue, giving it a broad lick. His teeth sank in, piercing the skin.

Your ears popped. You cried out. His grip on your hips didn't falter.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasped. Bucky lifted his mouth up from your gland, before sinking his teeth back in and biting again. Making his mark all that deeper.

It was only when he lifted his mouth from your gland, wiped your blood off of him with the blanket did you come at him, sinking your teeth into his gland. It made him grunt, even groan. His flesh hand came to your head, pushing your head down, making you sink your teeth even deeper into his gland.

"Yesss," hissed Bucky, his flesh hand sinking into your hair, gripping it. "Deeper, doll. Go deeper."

Winter and his Alpha completely agreed.

Theirs.

You were theirs.

After what seemed an eternity, you lifted your head up. Wiping your mouth on the blanket, you spoke.

"I missed you. What did you do to get us paired on this mission? I thought I was going with Sam," you said to your Alpha. A smirk stretched over Bucky's lips. "Ah," your Alpha said, still smirking, "I might've put something in his drink to make him vomit his guts out. He got sick."

A noise came from you.

"You gave him food poisoning? James!" You scolded him. Bucky leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry doll, it'll wear off when we come back to the Compound. Bird Brain won't even know what hit him."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, Sasha. Did you teach Natalia that trick, too? Hmm? She and all of your Widow students?"

Bucky was still grinning ear to ear at you when he responded back.

"Well little bird, someone had to teach them. After all, I was their teacher. They all called me Yasha. Speaking of my Widow students..." he trailed off in Russian. You looked at him.

"You've contacted one of the KBG? About that leaked Russian tape with the orange man that is, unfortunately, our President?" He asked you. You nodded. "Yeah, Sasha. Everything's going as planned. Although, I think assassinating the orange man would've been a much better option. We would've gone in there and made it a done deal by now! Fuckin' Steve and his righteous self." You grumbled unhappily.

"Hmm. It would've been great as a date night. Don't you think, doll?" Bucky drawled. You gave a serious nod.

"Although... seeing him freak out on Twitter is much, much better. The tea is better when it's hot." You grinned. Bucky just let out a sigh.

"I'm restricting your phone privileges. And your TV privileges. You need to stop watching those drama channels, Mega."

A noise of deep discomfort came from you.

"Sasha!" you whined, "then what will I do while you're gone on missions?"

"Wait for me to come back?" Bucky suggested. You just sighed. Even shook your head in fondest. You happily snuggled up to your Alpha, your nose rubbing up against your Mate's gland. "I always wait for you to come back, Sasha. I wait and I worry. I love you, James."

A deep rumble came from your Mate.

"I love you too, Little Omega."

Your head peeked up.

"So, can we tell the rest of the team when I leak the tape?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with mischief.

Bucky burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes, yes. We can tell them once you've wreaked havoc, Omega."

"Good." You were nodding seriously, in complete agreement. "It'll be fun. And... also, I forgot to tell you."

The joyful expression on Bucky's face was suddenly replaced with one of worry.

"What? What is it?" He asked gently. "When you were gone for your last mission two months ago... I... I came off of my suppressants. I'm ready, James. I want a family with you."

Shock flickered over Bucky's face. And then he was shoving you back into the bed with a shriek coming from you.

"When's your pre-heat?" He demanded.

You felt it. A cramp. It made you whimper.

"N-Now, James. Now," you stammered. Your Alpha pulled your legs apart roughly before he thrusted back into you, making you gasp.

"Say it," he hissed. "Say you want it. Say you want my knot. Say you want my pups."

"I want it, James." Your voice was a low whisper, even staggering a little bit. "I want your knot. I want your pups. Please. Please, Sasha."

His hands, both metal, and flesh gripped your shoulder tight as that vein of his neck nearly popped. His eyes were black with want. Soon, his Rut would be upon him and he'd breed you. Put his pup in you. You'd carry his pup. He'd have the pack that Winter and his Alpha desperately wanted after all these years.

A whine came from you when he pulled out, only to let out a scream when he thrusted back in. Hitting that part of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

His pace was brutal, not even letting you hold onto him. Your hands were left to grip the bedsheets again. You gripped them so tight that your knuckles turned white and you thought that they were going to pop.

Bucky continued to push, continued to shove his ejaculate deeper and deeper inside of you. A mixture of your slick and his ejaculate smeared all over your thighs and trickled down your legs, and you just didn't know what was happening. Your hindbrain was telling you that this was what was needed. That your designation wanted, nay, demanded this. After all the shit you had gone through, your Omega had found her Alpha and now, now she was determined to have a family. Have the pack she desperately desired.

"Mine."

A harsh thrust made you sob.

"You're mine now. I waited for you for so long. Wanted you for so long. You're mine now. Got my Mark. Got my clothes in your nest. Gonna give you my name. Gonna give you my pups. You're mine. All mine. Say you're mine. Say it!"

You came screaming. Your orgasm making you see white. Bucky continued slamming into you, the wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy becoming louder and louder the more he pushed in. Your teeth sank into his flesh shoulder, shattering and piercing the skin there. You tasted copper in your mouth.

Bucky came with a shout. He shoved you back completely, making you shriek. And then he was leaning in again, sinking his teeth into your gland. Making another deep mark. It made you fall limp into the bed as his knot swelled, locking the two of you in place.

He lifted his head.

Being inside you... knotted inside of you... it was bliss. It was just as good as cockwarming. His cock all nestled deep inside of you whenever you two would sneak off to sleep together.

"Bite me again. Give me your mark, Omega." he panted. Slowly, your head went up, you slowly sat up, before taking in a deep breath and sinking your teeth back into his gland.

Home.

You had brought Bucky home. He held you tight, whispering in your ear how much he loved you and how much of a good Omega you were.

"I love you Omega." His voice was rough.

Lifting your head from his gland. Blood still trickling down the corners of your mouth. You offered him a smile. A genuine one. One that made his stomach all fluttery.

"I love you too, Alpha."

#agencyswritingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #female reader #mutant!reader #abo dynamics #alpha bucky x omega reader

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: Sinking Fangs

Summary- 10.2k Alpha Steve x You. Things have settled back on Pack Lands. Over a month has passed since you and Steve returned from Wakanda and now there is just one last thing to deal with to put the ordeal of your time with the Pierce Pack to rest, deal with Council Member Ross. Brock now has a new asset on hand and gives a preview of how efficient he is. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Violence, Killing, Sex. 

A/N- Wow, thank you all so much for reading this. Really it has been a passion project of mine, and Im so happy I could bring my wolves into the MCU verse. We are at the end of this story with Alpha Steve and the Little One. I hope it delivered all that you had hoped it would and enjoyed it as much as I have. Reading your comments and asks have meant more to me then you could possibly know. Happy Howling 🐺

 Chapter 9 (part 2) / Masterlist 

The chill tickled his senses and that was what woke Steve up that morning, his hand sweeping over the bed to find you not there, but your warmth was still clinging to the bed sheets. You haven’t been up for long. Rolling to his stomach, he moved to resettle, listening for where you might be in the cabin. But all was silent, all he could pick up was the drip-drip of the coffee maker in the kitchen, so you had been there just before, there was no rustle on the couch no sounds of your feet springing off the cabin's wood floor though. But the heavy autumn air did draw his attention to the wide-open door to the deck. Rolling up to rub at his face to waken further, Steve leaned down and grabbed sleep pants nearby to tug them on. He advanced on the deck and took a look around. 

The deck was frost-covered, as well as the towering pines housing the migrating songbirds sheltering overnight and that one grey squirrel that seemed to claim the back deck as his since you started feeding them. Steve’s eyes scanned for you, and the Wolf immediately picked up your warm scent, eyes dropping to see where the soles of your feet and toes had melted a trail across the frost covered deck. Following it, he went down the stairs to the lower deck that stretched out over the lake, and there you were, at the very end with an afghan wrapped around your shoulder, legs peeking out from underneath it. Steve could see where you were arched onto your toes to keep the rest of your feet from touching the frost covered wood. Getting a quicker spring to his step, Steve approached you from behind. 

“Y/N, what are you doing out here so early? You must be freezing.” His Wolf growled in agreement when you looked over your shoulder. Even as cold as you looked, your eyes were bright with excitement. “I heard geese overhead, and I wanted to see them flying south.” Once he reached you, his arms went around your waist and drew you back so that you would lean into him, your feet moving to step on top of his to protect them from the frostbitten boards and the fog coming off the lake so early in the morning. His head tilted up to look in the clear blue sky above, something about the cold made it look sharper. Sometimes he forgot that son of a bitch Pierce kept you locked up so long in his compound, like an animal in a zoo. 

You missed out on the way their world would shift between warm sunshine filled lazy days to everything preparing for a long sleep. The woods were now constantly rustling with animals seeking food to store away, leaves windblown loose to swirl in patterns before falling to the forest floor to provide shelter for the tree roots. Overhead the sky would be swarmed with birds, quick off the wing as they left for winter bound destinations. Ice would soon form on the lake edges, sending the lake dwellers down into the depths to wait out the winter. And right now, your head tipped back to watch the obnoxious geese as the massive birds flew in their arrow path, carrying them out of sight. 

“Winter will soon be here,” Steve said with a smile, for it was his favorite time of year. As wonderful as all the others were, the snow brought a serene calmness to The Pack. Letting the Wolves loose for days to run across the snow. It was a time his Beast was most at home in the world. The biting winds and harsh cold he was made for. While the forest snapped from the intense ice and cold, he tracked through it, laying claim to all that was his and reminding nearby packs that a strong Alpha and his wolves claimed this territory. Then for his human side, he had a warm cabin, and now his Little One filling his home and his bed. Steve finally felt that maybe things were falling into place. 

You turned to face him, wrinkling your nose at him. “You know who else will be here soon ? Ross.” You reminded him with a worried look and Steve gave a soft growl at the man’s name, a pain in his ass if there ever was one. He had put him coming off for well over the past couple months since you two had returned from Wakanda. But Tony finally pushed him for this meeting, to go over what had actually happened to Pierce’s pack, and You. Pack on pack violence wasn’t tolerated among the council, supposedly. So Steve needed to explain his reasons for attacking. It was all bullshit, considering what you went through alone. 

“Don’t remind me Little One.” Steve gave a huff, warm breath washing over your face as his head dropped, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. “The sooner he leaves the better. Come on, now my feet are cold.” He chuckled and drew you away, and back up the stairs towards the house once more. 

The morning was a bit more tense than usual. Steve was quiet, you felt like his concentration was discussing matters with his Wolf, knowing he would have to keep himself under control with the Alphas coming into his territory. Initially, he was going to refuse this meeting, but Tony convinced him that it would be a show of good faith to the council if he allowed them access and actually explained what happened. The ex Pierce pack now belonged to Caine, who told the members the council sent what happened already. But Ross couldn’t let it go. Wanting to still hear from Steve. Finally, the Alpha relented, unsure if it was entirely the right thing, but it was done with. He wasn’t one to back down from his word. 

“You still going up to the yard?” You asked cautiously, knowing Steve was a bit all over the place, and his head lifted at your voice, checking his watch. 

“Yea, guess I better get up there if I want to get at least one truck off to the mill.” He drained his mug and set it in the sink, grabbing his jacket as he drew up to you. “Shoot me a text if anything happens while I’m up the mountain.” His fingers grasped your chin and placed a kiss on your lips, you nodded with an encouraging smile. 

“Of course Steve.” You nudged at him and tilted for one more coffee stained kiss from him, and when he left, you listened to his heavy footfalls take him down the porch and then moments later one of the pickups at the garage start-up. Once he was gone, you moved to settle on the couch, pulling your phone out to call Natasha. This had become the morning routine, once Steve headed out, you checked in with the Red Wolf. 

After a few moments, Natasha picked up, you could see here setting her phone up on a nightstand before going back to packing up a duffel bag. 

“Hey, you coming home for a bit?” you asked hopefully. She had been gone since she left you and Steve in Wakanda, and only heard from her now and then till you started to actively video chat her once a day. If she would pick up the phone that was. Some days when she answered it would be from a car while driving, a motel room, middle of the street. And the days she didn't, you weren't sure if you wanted to know where she was holed up in her search for the missing pack members.

“No, not yet, I picked up another lead last night, and about to go check it out.” 

“Natasha, Steve wouldn't be upset if you came home. It's been weeks and every trail you come across leads to a dead end.” You say into your phone while propping it on the coffee table. 

“No, I'm sure of it this time. He really fits Bucky’s description. Tall, dark hair, slight limp to his walk. Sounded like he passed through town.” Natasha sounded hopeful. So many times Natasha was sure she finally found Bucky, and it always led to a dead end.

“Was there anyone else with him?” You questioned, and her face got a bit crestfallen, shaking it slowly. 

“No, nothing about the others. Has Laura said anything about Clint contacting her?” 

Another shake of the head no. “Nothing, no one has seemed to hear anything. Steve’s even been reaching out to other packs. Someone named Fury is coming soon, he works for the Council, and is going to try to help figure out where they went.” 

Natasha’s green eyes widened a bit. “Fury? Well damn, Uh, how did Steve feel about that?” your eyes narrowed at your packmate, yes you were still fairly new, and was reminded of that in moments like these. 

“From what I understand, Steve called him himself. Why? What do I not know?” You questioned, and Natasha shrugged. 

“You know Steve, he's not on board with the whole Wolf Packs need to be “policed” like the council wants to do. But Fury, he's one of the better ones. Kinda walks his own line, you know? Steve worked with him way before he was an Alpha, at an agency called Shield.”

This piqued your interest, even your Little Wolf stirred, cause Steve rarely talked about his past. “What was Shield?”

Natasha searched the drawers one last time while she remained talking. “Oh it was Wolves trained in special skills, usually combative and logistics. They would be dispatched into problem areas for wolves and humans alike, working with the military. Bucky was a part of it as well. Their team was called the Howling Commandos.” Natasha snapped the drawers shut, and went to sit on the bed, picking up the phone. “Course this was way back when. I'm a bit surprised Steve hasn’t talked about it?” 

“No, but honestly Steve doesn't talk much about his past.” You worried your lip a bit and the Little Wolf brushed against your mind. 

<He will talk about it when he's ready.>

Natasha gave a shrug. “He will sometime, Steve’s time with his ex wasn’t easy. He probably just wants to forget some of that. With your help.” Natasha smirked at you, and you gave her a roll of your eyes, your Little Wolf snickering in agreement with your friend. “Have you thought about making it all official?” She eased out the question, and you wish you could give a resounding yes. You had considered asking Steve many times about it since you two have returned home. 

But something held you back, the idea of being connected to someone mind and body scared you in a way that seemed so unreasonable considering you and your Little Wolf knew you wouldn't ever want another Mate. Steve assured you many times that he would share that bond with you, but only when you asked for it, and never pushed or made you feel guilty like you should ask. Plus the way you and Steve were right now, it was comfortable and content, you hated the thought of asking for more and ruining the rhythm of happiness you found with each other, even though in Wakanda you were more than ready. 

“I know Steve would the second I asked him, it's me waiting. After living with Pierce for so long, Nat honestly it scares me. If Steve connected, I would belong to him. I know he wouldn’t do anything I wasn't okay with, but knowing he could. Fuck that just scares me.”

“Y/N, does he even know you feel this way?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head. “Talk to him Y/N, Steve will want to know what you are thinking.” 

Your Little Wolf curled around in your mind, growling softly. <She’s right, we should communicate with our Alpha.>

“Think about it Y/N, you open up, maybe Steve will as well.” Natahsa grabbed her duffel and shouldered it. “Listen, I will be home soon, okay? Don’t worry about me, I'm used to being out on my own quite a bit.” 

“Doesn't mean we don’t still worry.” you chuckled softly and gave a wave into the phone screen. “Talk to you tomorrow Nat. Bye.” 

After hanging up, you settled back into the couch thinking over yours and Natasha’s discussion with the bond. Maybe it was time to bring it up with Steve, about why you were hesitant. 

Maybe he’s hesitant to? I know he has offered but-

<But nothing Y/N, his past is his past and even with the bond, he can choose not to share it. You know some things still stay private unless you choose to share them. Same goes with Steve and his Wolf. Besides… you're not just a little curious about before he was Alpha?> 

Of course I am, I just never really brought it up. 

The Little Wolf huffed out in frustration and shook out her fur as she moved to a stretch. <You have wanted it since before I came home, you were just waiting for me to come back.>

How do you know about that? 

<Cause I was never actually gone, just trapped.> she responded, starting to trot away from the front of your awareness with a whisk of your tail. <Now it's simply fear holding you back. The Alpha deserves to know.> 

You huffed a bit at your wolf being so dismissive. Pushing up off the couch, and going back to the bedroom to go get ready for the arrival of Ross to the pack. 

Up on the mountain, the lot was just finishing up, Steve waiting with hands on his hips, watching as Sam worked the Skid Cat to load the last of the logs on. Once the last one was on, he pulled himself up the side and started working on strapping them down for transport when Sam parked the skid cat nearby, and hopped down to go join Steve. Pulling himself up the other side, both men working quietly tightening the straps till everything was safe to be taken down the mountain. 

“Your awful quiet today Man.” Sam finally broke the ice while twisting to take a seat at the top of the pile, Steve making a similar move to sit next to him. 

“Lot on my mind I guess.” He pulled off his heavy duty work gloves, and slapped them down beside him.

“This to do with Ross or Y/N?” Sam questioned while falling back to his palms planted on the log behind him, relaxing for a moment. 

“A bit of both. Ross, I'm just ready to get him off Pack Land.” Steve admitted, and the Wolf growled lowly at the mention of the man's name. “Y/N, were good and starting to feel comfortable, and settled after everything from this summer. But is this what she wants for sure?” 

<Course it is, our mate is happy Steve.> The Wolf pinned back his ear at the humans worries, sighing. 

Sam listened and gave a nod. “I remember feeling that way with Sara when we first started. ‘Was she happy, would she want this to be her life.’ Nerve wracking. I wanted to ask her, but fuck I was scared that she was gonna tell me it was temporary.” Sam flashed a grin. “Then I sucked it up, and brought it up one night. Damn, she jumped me in all of two seconds, told me I was an idiot and that she wasn't going anywhere.” Sam chuckled at the memory, and Steve gave his own amused laugh. “Anyways, I had nothing to be worried about, and I don't think you do either. Y/N looks at you man with those god damn heart eyes all the time whenever she catches a whiff of you. And Ross, I know you're not happy about it. I'm glad i'm not in your position right now.”

Steve rolled his eyes at him. “Thanks Sam.” 

“But you're gonna sail through it, tell Ross what happened, he's just being a prick cause you're not rushing to sign his accords.” Sam moved then to push off, sliding back down to the ground, and motioning to the truck's cab. When one Alpha refuses, others will not be afraid to say they agree. He’s afraid of more Alphas and packs agreeing with you. Come on Alpha, you're stalling. Let's get our shit finished, your best friend gonna be here soon.” 

Steve grabbed his gloves and jumped down, growling at Sam. “You're an ass.” while stuffing his gloves in his back pocket and yanking the door open to get in. 

“It’s a gift I’ve worked on for years.” Sam grinned, grabbing the walkie talkie and listening for the static. “Steve and I are taking the last load, clean up guys.” Once he got the confirmation, he got in, and Steve put the truck in drive and headed down the mountain. 

It wasn’t long till Steve was once more pulling into the Packs compound and it hit him as soon as he opened the door. The Alpha himself bristled in Steve’s mind scenting the other Alphas on his land, and he had to push the Wolf back from the front of his consciousness, the beast set off by not just one outside Alpha, but two. Sam coming out the other side, side eyed Steve a moment to make sure he didn't lose control because he saw the situation before Steve did. Sam was well aware the moment Steve saw them, just from the growl that raised from the depths of his chest in a menacing tone before dying down. 

On HIS porch, with HIS mate was Ross, Tony, and a female. Steve was unsure of who it was, but he was more focused on three wolves surrounding you that were outsiders. Heavy handed, he slammed the truck door shut, and all heads turned towards him to see him stalking towards his porch. 

Tony immediately moved to a stand, clapping his hands together. “And there's the old boy now! We were just about to go up the mountain to find you Steve.” Ross gave a cold nod in agreement, and the woman sitting next to him, Steve finally recognized Ross's assistant, Judy. Steve’s gaze shifted hotly from the wolves to you, taking you in. You seemed relax, one leg crossed over another, your hand wrapped around a coffee mug, and everything in you seemed to say that you were comfortable yet alert. Immediately as soon as you saw him looking at you with such an intense look, you set your cup aside, and eased to a stand, bushing past Judy and going down the stairs to reach your Alpha, smiling in that welcome home way. 

Immediately Steve loped an arm around you and pressed his lips to your temple with a whispered hushed tone just for you. “Everything okay?” you hummed a yes, exchanging the sentiment with a nuzzle to his shoulder before turning back to your waiting guests. 

“They just arrived minutes before you and Sam, Alpha.” You say cheerfully, the other three following you off the porch and standing around. You can feel Steve against you, not growling, but the vibrations of silent rumbles shifted through him. Your hand lightly slides under the back of his shirt to press against his lower back, and you feel him calm down, a deep inhale clearing his mind. 

“I was expecting you all much later, and I have a business to run, orders to be placed and people to keep employed within the compound and from the town below. But I’m here now, shall we go inside to talk?” Steve offered with an extended hand towards his front door. Ross once more seemed to look at Steve with disdain, making the Little Wolf in you bristle at the rudeness to your Alpha, but Steve chose to ignore it so you did as well. Judy though was another matter, the woman standing just to the other side of Ross with her tablet for notes, and she seemed to be eyeing Steve in a whole other way. A way that made you self conscious that he didn't have your bite showing any other unmated wolves he was committed. It made your jaw ache as you clenched it shut, your Little Wolf pacing now, panting slightly being on edge.

<She's a threat, I can smell her desire.> The Little Wolf's ears swept back flat against her skull, yellow eyes sharp as they watched Judy flaunt a bit in front of Steve, flashing her neck with sweeps of her hair over her shoulder and lowering her gaze in a way that wasn't necessary for anyone other than her Alpha or Mate. Now that Steve was here, you could smell the change in her, the heated desire this woman had for him. Steve must have felt you tense, cause his hand flexed on your hip and fingers pressed in the curve. 

She is only a threat if we allow her to be. Your attention turned away from her back to Tony and Ross. 

"Yes let's finish up with this." Ross snapped a bit and proceeded up the stairs. 

 As they headed inside, Steve dipped his head to Sam to whisper in his ear. Sam nodded at whatever Steve had said and stepped away from the group. You watch as he leaves, until Steve's touch pushes you gently up the stairs, wanting to keep you with him during this. You embrace for going inside, assaulted by the scent of all the extra people, but the one that was really irritating you the most was Judy. Who flung her hair once more over her shoulder, showing off the slim column of her neck. 

Your teeth bared slightly, although you flashed her a smile, digging for a hair tie in your pocket. “Here, your hair seems to be bothering you.” you held out the offending tie to her and she looked at your hand with a slight wrinkle of her nose, and plucked it from your fingers. 

“Thanks.” she muttered, but was quick to walk away from you. You noticed she flung your hair tie back on the kitchen island counter and stuck to Ross’s side while they settled on the couch. Judy’s nose dropped to her tablet, suddenly very busy. 

Not a threat but she's annoying as hell. Steve isn't even paying her any attention. You stated confidently to you Little Wolf as Steve dropped a kiss to your shoulder while going to the bar to pour some tumblers of the Wakandian liquor to offer the guests. 

“Be careful, it's strong.” he said as he passed it to Ross, Tony and Sharon. The last two he kept for you and him, once he settled in his leather chair, you perched on the arms chair allowing Steve to keep a possessive hand on your thigh. You sip it, licking your bottom lip afterward to clear the droplets collected and smirked to yourself when Steve’s fingers flexed and dug into your muscle before loosening again. 

<His…>

Yes we are. You thought while sipping the strong liquor once more. 

Tony, you noticed, was well aware of what Steve had given him and took a tentative sip. Ross though, shot back a heavy swallow, and started sputter and grabbing a kerchief from his pocket. “Christ Rogers, what was that?”

“It's Wakadian Liquor, courtesy of King T’Challa. So, what is it you want, Senator Ross? You felt the need to come all the way to my Pack to discuss my packs matters?” 

Ross set his glass to the side, and your gaze followed to see that he completely missed the coaster, and your eyes flashed in irritation at his ignorant behaviour. 

“Well as you know, the council over the American Wolves don't condone pack on pack violence. I understand the unique situation with Pierces ex lone wolf.” Ross said, gesturing towards you. 

Steve snapped forward in his seat, a warning growl rising from him. “Her name is Y/N, and I accepted her as part of the Mountain Pack the day she arrived. She was never a lone wolf or lived in the no man's land. Y/N was on the run, for her life. Running from a mad Alpha looking to sell her. She was a victim, she didn't choose to cross boundaries. Treat her as such.” 

To be called a lone wolf insinuated you had abandoned your pack and disrespected your Alpha. A wolf gone rogue and living between pack lines was a dangerous wolf, traveling to find a new pack was acceptable. But to live entirely feral,was rare and often those beasts went a little mad, losing their sense of human side.  

Tony rubbed at his face, easy to tell that the two Alphas were going to start bristling at one another, and interrupted with a slightly cheerful voice. “Okay gentleman, let's be sure we keep to the purpose here.” 

Ross nodded, this time taking a much more careful sip of his drink. “I apologize Y/N. I'm not unsympathetic to your situation.” He stated towards you, which you nodded slightly in acceptance while Steve thrummed his fingers against your thigh, impatient now. “As I was saying, there are proper procedures we must take to investigate Pierce and properly hold him accountable. Now, he’s dead. And he can't pay for his crimes. So Alpha…” Ross snapped out. “What prompted you to take those measures without notifying the Council.” 

Steve slid his arm around your hip while leaning forward, moving to sit on the edge of his seat, instinctively you felt the Aloha growing angered, and slid from the arm of the chair onto his knee. You could feel his coiled muscles underneath you and you leaned back enough to feel his chest pressing partially against your back. “What prompted me, Senator Ross? The fact that Y/N had to come seeking safety while being hunted. Trackers crossed my lines, uninvited, went into my house, uninvited and tried to abduct Y/N.” Steve inhaled deeply, dragging your scent to calm his Wolf down before continuing. “Then I am told about unmated wolves being held captive and sold to the highest bidder, against their consent. But none of that matters, right Ross? Leave it to the council to sit on their asses waiting for something more? How about this, Pierce threatened to attack my pack.” Steve shifted back, easing you both back. “I went to him instead, offered to talk first. It didn't end that way. I'm not going to have any of my family threatened, especially when from what I've been told, the council had all this information and more on file. And YOU all were still waiting? For what?” Steve challenged back. 

Ross glared at Tony before clearing his throat. “I don't know where you might have heard that information, but I can assure you Steve that the council has nothing but all Packs welfare in mind. That's why we were made in the first place. 

“Enough!” Steve snapped his teeth behind you. “I see now that the Council was made to try to control the Packs, do away with the need for Alphas. That's what this is about right? I refuse to sign your Accords, and by me not doing so, you have other packs who are also refusing. The matter with Pierce is just showing how fucking sloppy you all are, half ass work, rather watch until its the prime opportune moment to make the Council look good.” Steve snarled out, jostling you a bit in his lap as his arm tightened around you, probably unconsciously at this moment because his anger was starting to roll from him. 

“You're severely misjudging the Council Rogers, and although your opinions of us are not unknown, I say you best be watching what you say. You originally were for it, and we're still doing good for everyone, even if it's behind the scenes. Just because you and your Wolf got all tripped up saving a bitch in distress and breaking the Law.”

You felt Steve surge behind you, but you were quicker this time, your Little Wolf raging enough that your eyes flashed yellow barely containing her now. “You are in the Alphas house Senator, shut your fucking mouth if you cant be civil!” you snapped out, looming over the seated man when you pulled out of Steve’s hold. He went to stand, and you pushed him back to sit on the couch, Judy next to him giving a yelp in surprise, and you snarled at her enough for her to pull back into Ross.  You turned into Tony next, who threw up his hands in surrender. “Stark I like you, you helped Steve and I when we needed it most. But how dare you bring this man to our home.” Your hand waved over Ross. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry… “ Tony started genuinely but you cut him off, turning towards Ross, your anger still on the surface. You felt Steve move up behind you, but he never tried stopping you. 

“And You,” you inhaled deeply and growled as you exhaled. “You left us there to be tortured and abused. You left Pierce out of control, for what? More evidence? Know how many times Pierce tried to sell me off? Do you want the details of how that happens? I can fucking show you for your files. I know you saw his wall of skins. How many you think he did that to while your precious fucking council was waiting? You know how many he skinned alive?” At this Steve rested his hands on your shoulder, angry tears welling up that you wiped away furiously before continuing. “I remember every single one of them begging for mercy, their howls and screams. It will never go away.” All three of them listened while horror crossed their faces. “Steve, listened to the bare minimum of it all and knew it couldn't continue. So don't ever, EVER come here again trying to accuse the Alpha of anything other than saving the rest of our lives.” You took a deep breath, and your glare fell on your last victim. Judy saw you snap towards her, and she shrunk into the cushions, her hands shaking a bit as she dropped her head to look away from you. “And you know that I'm with Alpha, bite or not. All the neck flashing and bare minimum presenting yourself as a possible mate does nothing but make you look like a fool Woman. I'm assuming you think you're going places working for Ross. Sweetheart, find a new Alpha to work for.” You could feel yourself getting closer to losing control and you straightened, your back slamming into Steve just behind you, and his hands tightened on your hips to steady you. 

“I think my Little One said everything she needed to Ross. Leave, get off my pack’s land and don't ever show your face here again, you are not welcome.” Steve said quietly, the tone dripping with anger and a threat. 

“Now Rogers…” Ross tried again to make his point across while Tony and Sharon both went to stand and remove themselves. Steve roared out from behind you, and you hitched your chin up in your resolve. “NOW!” From outside came threatening howls from around the cabin, a clear sign that they were no longer welcome, and Ross snapped to a stand, straightening his jacket. 

“We're leaving, but mark my words Rogers this isn't over. There's the matter of your missing pack mates. Know where your trusted White Wolf is?” Ross snarled, and Steve started to make a move to lunge at Ross when Tony started to push them out. 

“Were going Steve, Y/N, Pepper says hi.” Tony shoved them both out the doors, and from the glance you saw, several wolves were lounging in front of your cabin, Sam being right on the stairs and Sara just below him. Sam remained impassive, just his ears perking at the opening of the door. Sara though rolled her muzzle to flash her fangs at the trio descending the stairs. 

Sam followed them down with Sara pacing right along with him, all three hurried to their parked vehicle as other wolves followed along. Several other packmates flowed silently into the treeline bordering the road that would lead them off the grounds. 

As the vehicle sped, they were followed with howls all along the driveway, going for several miles, keeping track of where the intruders were. You and Steve remained listening, relaxing a little more the further they got. Steve's hold was loose around you and his head dropped to nip kisses against your neck, breathing in against you while you and the Little Wolf listened with perked ears until Sam and Sara both announced with their own howl the threat was gone. You sagged in against his chest, for a moment and tipped your head back to look up at him. 

“I could have ripped his throat out.” You rumbled, and Steve looked down with a slight amused look on his face when he rubbed your stomach under your shirt, feeling yourself clench under his hands. 

“I know Little One, apparently they lit a fire in you.” A hand wrapped around your neck to slip up to your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he could drag teeth along your neck and followed by the soft warmth of his tongue. Your adrenaline was quickly shifting from anger to lust and desire. “Seeing you get protective was fucking hot Little One. I could fuck you so hard right now.” He bared his teeth against your wayward pulse. Everything about Steve screamed danger for others, for you it was exhilarating, the slight squeeze on your neck left you whimpering as you clenched your thighs together. “Get in our bed Little One, now.” He released you and you spun to face him, grasping his face to lick over his lips and biting that bottom one with a tug while his hand snapped sharply across your ass to send you on your way inside. 

Steve followed you in and watched you disappear down the hallway before he turned to lock the front door. Gritting his teeth as he leaned his forehead, feeling the Wolf shift through him with hunger for you, he was already rock hard when you lit right into Ross, Tony and Judy. Now the need to claim you was overriding all his other desires for you. Snapping back from the door, he stalked down the hallway, his nose lifted to follow your scent. Which built a hunger in his lower gut. 

He was raging hard, everything said that you ached, wet heat for him to get lost in. And when he stopped in the doorway, he saw you kneeling in the middle of the bed, arching yourself while your hands traveled to your back to unclasp your bra. Steve didn't even give you a chance. 

He couldn't help it, he was on you, his hands pulling you in closer to the edge, and a snap of his fingers against your back and sliding his hand around your ribs, he pulled the bra off your front to sharply inhale, catching the sight of you blinking up at him with those wide eyes shimmering back and forth between you and the Little Wolf. Hands moving to cup your breasts, thumbs flickering over the round pebbled tips while descending to claim your mouth, riding you down till you were smothered underneath him on the bed, caging you effectively underneath him. “Fuck you drive me wild Little One.” 

You could feel his teeth sink into your shoulder to keep you still and make you hiss out “Isn’t that my job?” which made Steve bite just a bit harder and make you growl while arching just a bit. Your hands fisted in the soft cotton of his tee and started to shred it till you could pull it away while his hands had your hips pinned in place, slotting a knee in between your spread thighs to grind the hard muscle into your cunt, which had your jolting underneath him. 

Once you got rid of his shirt, yanking the last of what was left over his head that he had to lift himself away from where he was marking you, you rubbed your aching cunt against his thigh again, dragging your nails down his muscled back while arching underneath him, seeking out that friction of his body against yours. 

Steve’s hand snaked once more around your neck, slamming you back into the pillows so he could look down at you, panting as inhaling you wasn't enough, he wanted to taste you, breath you in and get lost in the intoxication that made up you. “Flip over, to your knees Little One.” Leaning over you and brushing his lips against yours while you gave kitten licks to his lips, opening to let his tongue fill your mouth in a hungry kiss for one another. Steve couldn't contain the snarl of need erupting from him, the twitch of his cock constrained in tight jeans. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down while digging in, maring the spanse of his back in deep red welts. You gasped out when he moved down to suck his mark on your neck. “Steve, you gotta let me move.” you chuckled, pointing out the obvious. Steve had you effectively captured underneath him. 

The Alpha gave a warning nip to your pulse before pulling away, smirking down at you. “Sassy Little Wolf.” His palms slapped against your ass cheeks, digging his fingers in and pushing you off his knee. “One more time, flip over and let me see just how wet and needy you are Little One.”  Steve commanded, and pulled back while you twisted to your stomach, his hands sliding along your sides, and grasping your layers remaining to jerk them down over your ass and off your legs. 

Finishing with unbuckling his belt and sliding pants down while your ass swung back and forth to get yourself in position for your Alpha, breathing out deeply while dropping your head to the mattress. You could hear his hungry groan as he moved in behind you, his hands cupping the soft globes, spreading them so nothing was possibly hidden from him. You sighed feeling the cool air brush against your heated swollen cunt, and snuck a peek over your shoulder to see Steve biting on his lip, his eyes hungry while his cock pressed against the lower part of his stomach, dripping from his own desires. A finger trailed along your weeping cunt, sliding so easily into your channel, even when you tightened around him, dropping your head against the mattress once more with a pleading whimper. “Alpha please.” 

Steve stroked your fluttering and clutching walls, his finger slick with your want, and he easily stretched you open with another finger. His other hand smoothed up your back, and grasped the back of your neck, long fingers grasping around the column and dragging you up so that you were leaning on your elbow, your head tipped back to look up. 

“So pretty for me my Little One, taking my fingers so good.” He gave a stroke against the soft spongy spot that made you clench around him, breathing in deeply as he dropped his forehead against the center of your back, breathing out to keep himself under control as his muscles rippled under taunt skin. You started whimpering and mewling whenever his calloused fingertips sunk back into you, snapping your back while pushing back to meet his movements. “Your Alpha is going to fill you up, leave you dripping with my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.” 

Fuck you wanted that, wanted him so hard and deep in you that you would ache moving the next day, that his claim would be all over your skin, bruises from his mouth, and his seed rubbed in till it was all you could scent, leaving you dripping with need. “Please Alpha, make me yours.” you panted, and started clenching around his fingers, the coils in your belly threatening to snap. Twisting your head to muffle into the mattress, you started crying out and curling your toes while Steve started to run his tongue up your back till his chest was draped over your back, nuzzling the back of your neck with soft growls while pressing his words into your soft skin with kisses and sharp nips. 

“Come on my fingers and I will give it to you.” tilting his head and sinking his teeth in enough to hold you still while you let go, his fingers dragging out your orgasm until you wanted to sink into the bed in bliss. “Nu uh uh, Little One.” Steve removed his fingers from your clenching core to hold your hip up, pushing up to take the weight off your back. “Im not done with you yet.” He assured you while you dragged in deep breaths and gave a nod. “That's my good girl, my perfect Little One.” Grasping his base, he dragged his swollen weeping cocks head through your swollen folds, tapping against your clit to make you jolt while he pressed against your entrance. Tight as you were, when he started to press into you, he was able to slide right in, burying himself to the hilt, and you flexed around him with your own groan underneath him, biting against a pillow to muffle yourself. Steve's hand moved to press against your stomach, feeling himself thrust into you, a jolt of his hips rocking you. 

“Fuck Little One.” He growled and you pushed to your elbows, flexing yourself around him. A few shallow strokes went faster and harder, his hands holding your hips in place to keep him from driving you into the mattress. Steve felt so heavy and full in you and around you, it was taking your willpower to keep from falling apart feel each demanding thrust into you, but you met him back, your hands digging into the sheets and your head tipped back to get lost in the sensation of Steve claiming your body, every hitting thrust into your cunt breaking down those walls of doubt just a bit more. There wasn't going to be anyone you could want like this, except for Steve. Even now in the midst of taking you as his, he was still taking care of you, above you was him grunting out praises in how good you were to him, a hand dipped in between your legs, and rolled your clit to bring you maximum pleasure. 

In the midst of this, the need to belong to him flooded you. More then the endorphins sex brought, but genuine resolve that you were ready for it, all that belonging to the Alpha would bring. You couldn't imagine not being here with Steve, and not just these moments, but all of them. The good and bad, you would remain at his side should he want you, and you wanted his immense strength to lean on as well. You finally managed to gasp out from the pleasured haze “Steve, Do it… Claim me, make me yours.” 

Steve faltered over you, his hand flexing on your hips when he thought he heard you tell him to give you the bite, to officially claim you as his own. He clenched his jaw to keep from sinking a hold into you. It was a struggle for a second to keep the Alpha from taking over, he collapsed over you, pressing you down into the mattress, and hissing against your shoulder. “Little One, you want the bite?” His tongue dragged over your ear while you whimpered underneath him, nodding while twisting your head to the side to see him. 

“I'm ready Steve, I know Im yours.” You whispered, Steve’s gaze scanned you, from your swollen kissed lips from earlier to fluttering eyelids, but your eyes kept contact with his, nodding again to affirm that is what you wanted with him. Pushing up to his hands, he placed a deep kiss to the crook of your neck with a deep inhale against you, committing your scent of sweet honeysuckle and arousal to memory. A scent he would never get tired of. Pulling back further he eased his aching cock from you, leaving you lifting your head in question, a slight panic in your voice that he was leaving you. “Steve-” 

“It's okay, Little One, turn around. I want us to do this together.” His hands smoothed over your hips, and along the scars on your back till his hands folded over your shoulders and eased you back to kneel, your back pressing against your chest. “I got you Little One.” He nuzzled against your neck where he always favored, ever since he was first with you. Flicks of his tongue and press of his lips made your racing heart start to ease. 

Reaching behind you to press your fingers through his hair at the back of his head and tug on it to lift him from your neck. You hum gently while easing around to face Steve and cup his face in your hands to crash your lips to his, gliding tongues and teeth. You both tilted into the kiss to deepen it while Steve rode you to your back, his hands planted on each side of your head and his mouth traveled to the corner of your mouth to your jawline, a nudge of his nose had you tilting your head to the side so he could drag his tongue over your pulse and leaving his scent on you. “You sure this is what you want Little One?” He growled, and you squirm underneath him to wrap your legs around his waist with a nod. 

“I- We have never been more sure of anything before Steve.” you whispered and when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, you tilted your nose up to bump against his, your fingers remaining tangled in his hair. “I love you and want everyone to know it.” Your fingers slid down his neck and rubbed against his shoulders before gliding along his biceps. 

“I love you to Little One.” he shifted to one arm to grasp your hand, weaving his fingers with yours, then to the other with the same action. Steve eased himself forward to slide back into you, feeling you gasp and arch underneath him feeling him thick and full inside of you, the slow roll of his hips, dragging him back and forth. “Fuck Alpha…” You buried your face in against his arm as you rolled back to meet him. “What should I expect?” you whimper, flexing your fingers against his. 

Steve nipped lightly against your neck and you tipped your head back for him. He growled softly while lapping at your skin, rolling once more to fill you, press deeper to connect you two. “A complete connection Little One, we will feel one another with strong emotions even when we're apart.” another nip, and another sigh as your nerves flared with anticipation. “We won't have to be shifted for our wolves to be together.” Another promising nip and ghosting of lips against the hollow of your neck, sucking a mark there as he sped up his hips, grunting as he held back the desire to cum inside of you at that moment. “Are you ready for that Little One?” Steve asked, not willing to go through with it if you were having second thoughts. 

You were overwhelmed with love for the man claiming you, and you tightened around him, drawing him in closer. With his barely held control, it made him growl with his next thrust. “Mark me Steve Rogers.” A flash of your neck made his eyes flare yellow in the moment, and he dropped to scent against your neck. 

When he found the spot he wanted, one that was his favorite place to bury his face into because it was soft and warm, everything you were in his life, his tongue soothed over it, and a soft growl to prepare you rolled through his chest before his teeth laid claim, breaking through your skin. You immediately arched into him, curling yourself around his body with a pleasured scream. It left your Little Wolf howling while you came from the intense pleasure, and his body surged forward to keep your orgasm rolling through you in waves. It felt like fire and ice burned from your clenching core, and laced your body with licks of contrast, making you wither and hold onto Steve more. You sought out Steve's firmness to keep from losing yourself, and your head buried in against his shoulder, breaking a pleasured sob into the muscle. His hand broke from yours and cupped the back of your head, each surge rocking you into your mate. The urge to return the bite overcame you, and on his shoulder you laid your own mark, which sent Steve spiraling over the edge. His hips started to stutter to a stop while he buried his seed into you, groaning as he sunk over you. 

The explosion in your mind was another pleasure all its own, leaving you seeing spots in your vision even when you had your eyes screwed shut and your hand not pinned down with his hand, was wrapped around Steve’s side, clutching yourself to him till there wasn't any space between both of your sex blissed bodies. 

Your Little Wolf was tentative in the new connection you and Steve shared, lowering to her belly waiting to see if the Alpha would come, and sure enough the silver Alpha nudged against her, the Little Wolf rolling and nipping under his chin while rubbing against him with excited whines and yips. 

You could feel him, not in the same way you felt your own Little Wolf, but the sensation was thrilling. Steve was the first to let go, gentle with a rub of his hand along your hip and a soothing caress of his tongue against your broken skin to clean off the blood the bite brought. He groaned at the warm iron taste. You unclench your jaw and let go as well, placing a kiss against the mark while sliding your hand up and down his back gently which was still rippling under your fingertips, tracing the marks you left on him gently. “I can feel your wolf Steve.” you whisper in his ear, and Steve lifted his chest off yours, tucking himself up on his elbows, his hands cupping your face, and thumbs gliding over your cheeks, smiling down at you. 

“I feel her to Y/N, she's as much a part of me as he is of you.” Tipping his head to catch your lips, he circled an arm around your waist while pulling up, bringing you with him till you were straddled against his lap while wrapping your arms around his neck to stay in place. Steve couldn't stop his hands from gliding over your curves, the smooth skin along your lower back and over the swell of your hips and down along your thighs. You tentatively touch your neck, feeling the raised heated skin from where Steve bit you, your fingertips tracing the indents where his teeth sunk in. “Do you want to go see it YN?” Steve asked as he grasped your hips, ready to ease you off him now that he was no longer knotted in you, and was safe for you to move. 

“Yea, I want to see it, this is the first bite that was my choice, I want to admire it.” You gave a shy grin, and Steve felt a burst of satisfaction in his chest. You were so happy in this moment, and he was effectively feeling it as well. Easing you off his lap and you tumbled out of the bed, to approach the dresser mirror, lifting your hair back to see where Steve claimed you as his. 

In the mirror, Steve could see your face break into a smile, placing your palm over it. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and you twisted on your toes to approach him. Spreading his thighs for you to step through, he let his hands slide up the back of your thighs while your own fingers slid through his hair and down till your palms pressed against the underside of his jaw, tilting his face to look up at you. “Thank you for choosing me Alpha.” 

Steve's fingers dug into the back of your thighs. “I would choose you again and again my Omega.” for the first time, he labeled you as his other half, the omega wolf to his alpha wolf. In the connection, you both could hear your wolves singing your bonding song. 

“Oh it's going excellent, the asset was well worth the wait.” Brock smirked into the phone as he looked in the large cell used to contain their weapon. “Hold on, I will show you how efficient he is.” Turning the phone around, he tilted the phone so the camera could face into the cell, and he barked out an order. “Go get that Stark man… the one they call Happy. Let the Winter Wolf have some fun with him.” Quickly the hydra agent he ordered went to collect their victim while Brock continued to speak into the phone. “It took a while to break him in but once we did, we unleashed a killer. I had no idea he even had it in him, and makes me wonder now if Rogers has that in him as well. They were trained in the same unit.” Brock heard the scuffle of footsteps behind him, and he swung open the cell door to shove Happy inside, sending him spiraling against the cement floor. With a clang, the door slammed shut and Happy pushed himself off the dirty ground, looking for any way to get out. 

“Rumlow, you know this is foolish, Tony will never let this go.” he grunted as he turned towards the bars. Rumlow crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked coldly. 

“You think Stark scares me any? Bigger picture Happy. Tony is nothing, an Alpha coming to the end of his time. Along with all the other packs across the country. That council shit they all live by will be brought down.” 

“Your fucking crazy Brock, I always knew it.” Happy growled softly, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. “Steve was right to take over your Pack.” 

Brock gave a laugh, banging on the bars to make Happy jump. “Rogers, don't worry I have something just for him. Right now your time is up.” He backed up a bit and re-directed the camera. “Let the asset out.” 

There was a clank behind Happy, and he spun around, reaching up to tug at the collar preventing him being able to shift. Fear flooded him with a sour bitter taste in his mouth, cause he could sense the danger coming for him, still hidden in the shadows. Happy’s Wolf was chained, but his fear made him struggle against the magic binding him with panicked whimpers, while Happy tried his best to see where the attack would come from. A loud snarl echoed from the room and Happy backed into a corner, trying to get as far away as possible now, giving his own warning to stay back. “Get back!” he panted in panic, still now knowing exactly where the beast would be coming from. The large White Wolf padded out, his yellow eyes honed in on Happy while licking his jaws with a bright pink roll of his tongue. “Bucky, fuck we know each other.” Happy tried pleading. Brock behind him burst into a laugh, remarking. “That isn't Bucky, not anymore.” The White Wolf flickered his ears back and forth, studying the quivering man before him and Brock’s almost bored tone filled the silence. “Ubiystvo” Kill. 

It all happened so fast, just enough time for Happy to throw up his hands to try to block his throat, and a streak of white became a mauling set of jaws and rage filled snarls rose over Happy's screams while it tore into him, teeth cutting into flesh and snapping through bones. Within seconds the White Wolf got to his throat and gave a whiplashing shake of his victim, crashing his body against the bars, Happy went limp and dropped to the ground as blood flooded pristine white fur, and red seeped to pool around the wolf’s paws. Brock couldn't help the grin plastered on his face, the wolf before him waited for directions. “You can go back now. Get!” and with that, the White Wolf turned and retreated back to where he came from.

Someone spoke on the phone, and Brock brought it back up to his ear. 

“Oh yes, he will be in the field any day now. We just have to affirm his trigger words and Soldat will be ready for use.”  

It was several days after Steve had given you the bite, your fingers unconsciously slipped along the fresh healing mark while you sat outside around the fire with other members of the pack later in the evening. The bite had ended up sending you into a heat which Steve kept you sated till finally you both came up for air days later, deciding that it was best to let the rest of the pack know you two were actually still alive. Sara gave a knowing grin before she brought her beer bottle to her mouth to drink and once you settled down next to her, she handed one over to you. “Welcome to the Pack, officially now Y/N.” She said and laughed softly while throwing her arm around your shoulder when you sputtered on your beer bottle, glaring at her. Your eyes glanced across the fire at Steve while he wandered around, catching up on what's been going on since the two of you had been locked up in the cabin together. 

“Thanks Sara, it was time. I know this is home, and I don’t have any desire to be anywhere else.” You took another swig while Steve from across the large bonfire seemed to catch a scent, tilting his head while talking to some of the logging crew. His eyes roved over the crowd till they fell on you through the flames crackling between them, and Steve smiled to himself before he turned back to his packmates. 

“I will see you all up there in the morning, first thing.” he excused himself from the small group and wandered slowly around the fire, talking to a few others till he reached You and Sara. 

“Ladies…” He greeted on the sly, pulling you up out of the chair and falling into it to pull you in his lap. 

“Alpha, been a while.” Sara said slyly while Sam came up behind her, plucking her beer bottle from her hand and taking a swig from it. 

“Now Baby, be nice. This is still the honeymoon stage.” Sam teased and Steve tightened his hold a bit, shaking his head at your friends. 

“Weren't you just telling me a couple days ago that it just gets better?” Steve asked, and Sara tilted her head back to look up at Sam. 

“Aww, you really say that? Someones getting lucky later.” Sara sprang up and wrapped her arm around Sam's neck, nipping at his chin playfully. Steve turned his attention back to you, his chin brushing along your neck where he left his mark, pride swelling up that now everyone could see you were officially his. He was content, feeling your Little Wolf so close to the Alpha in this new bond. You purred softly feeling the brush of his beard and tilted your head with your eyes closed, enjoying the sensation he was making along your skin. 

Your fingers danced up his arm, over his shoulder and cupped the back of his neck, nuzzling back into the crook, cuddling up against him. You could feel your Little Wolf sigh in content in this moment, her muzzle stretched over the Alphas back. Her ears flickered back and forth feeling you stir in your mind. 

<You know we’re happy right, this is what it feels like.>

You snicker against Steve's neck listening to her. I know what it feels like. 

<I just wanted to be sure, because Im not letting this go anytime soon.> She curled up closer to her Alpha, who lifted his head to check on her before settling back down. 

Neither am I.

“What are you and the Little Wolf discussing?” Steve asked against your ear, and you lifted your head to smile at him. 

“About how happy we are Alpha.” you cupped his face and nipped at his lips, letting your forehead press against his. “That this was the best choice I’ve ever made for myself.” 

His hands were heavy when they pressed against the small of your back, making you arch into him, the fire crackling before you, the pack all around you… Steve had to admit, he was pretty fucking happy to.

The End 🐺

#welcome to the pack #alpha steve #alpha steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #shapeshifter #werewolf #mcu au #amber writes #sweater writes

[steves-on-a-plane]

Trending Cap

Words: 843 Pairing: Sam Wilson X Reader Also Staring: Bucky Barnes Summary: When Reader finds out Sam, as the new Captain America, isn't planning on doing anything special to celebrate 4th of July she suggests he recreates a viral TikTok trend. With the help of Reader and Bucky, Sam adds his own twist to the trend to great success.

“So, what are you doing for the fourth, Sam Eagle?” You asked the newly minted Captain America. You tossed yourself onto his couch and made yourself comfortable in his Washington, DC apartment.

“Who the hell is Sam Eagle?” Sam laughed.

“He’s a Muppet.” Bucky supplied as he walked into the kitchen carrying a six pack of beers. “He’s an eagle Muppet who’s whole personality is freedom and loving America. You have wings and you’re Captain America now. Also, your name is Sam. It’s a very funny joke.” He assured.

“Now you expect me to believe you know who the Muppets are?” Sam shook his head as Bucky began packing his beers into the fridge.

“I have a television in my apartment.” Bucky reminded him.

“To answer your question, [Y/N], this is what I’m doing. Sarah’s taking the boys off on a long weekend trip so I invited my two friends over and I’m going to cook some food, we’re going to hang out.” Sam shrugged. “What more could I want?”

“Ok, but I meant more like what are you doing as Captain America?” You clarified. “Like I know Steve used to go way over the top because it was his birthday and all, but are you not even going to post like a Cap meme or TikTok dance or anything?”

“A TikTok dance?” Sam chuckled.

“Why not?” You shrugged. “Maybe not a dance, but there’s this audio that’s been getting pretty popular.”

You reached for your phone which was dangling precariously off the edge of Sam’s coffee table. You opened the TikTok app and searched for the audio you wanted. Once you found it you played it for Bucky and Sam. The Audio started with the Star-Spangled Singer’s singing the verse of The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song from Steve’s old USO shows. Once the audio reached the line “We can’t ignore there’s a front and a war we must win” the background music changed to a more modern beat mixed with Sam’s very recent speech “I know there are millions of people who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here, I feel it. The stares, the judgement, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. And I’m still here. No super serum. No. Blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”

“The trend is sort of a way to celebrate you as the new Cap.” You explained. “What most people do is they’ll do something like wear 1940’s fashion until the part where the music changes and then they switch to modern clothes. There are also some pretty impressive cosplays on here with homemade suits. For those typically its someone who starts out in a replica Steve suit and ends in a replica of yours. Usually they’ll act all hokey and exaggerated during the first bit and switch to a very serious lip-sync when it gets to the Captain Sam part.”

“[Y/N]’s right.” Bucky commented as he scrolled through TikTok on his own phone. “Walker might not be the only one you have to fight for the shield. These are some pretty impressive…what did you call them?”

“Cosplayers.” You supplied.

“Dress up people.” Bucky nodded.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sam nodded. “But the two or you have to help me.”

“Perfect! I’ve always wanted to raid your closet!” C’mon Buck, you can be my onset 1940s fashion consultant.” You dragged him towards Sam’s bedroom.

“[Y/N]! Don’t even think about taking one of my flannel shirts!” Sam called after you.

“Two shirts it is then!” You shouted back.

With Bucky’s help you were able to piece together a presentable 1940s stye outfit from Sam’s closet. The outfit consisted of Khaki slacks, a brown belt, brown leather shoes and a brown and beige stripped shirt. The collar wasn’t exactly wide enough for the time, Bucky wanted to point out, but it would do in a pinch. Luckily the wallpaper in the living room of Sam’s apartment looked ancient. It probable hadn’t been updated since the 1920’s let alone the 40s.

So, you positioned Sam in a corner of the room where most of his modern amenities were out of sight and filmed him dancing and mouthed along to the Star Spangled Man song. When the music stopped you stopped filming. Sam changed most of the way into his cap suit. He gave you the signal and you began filming. Sam added on pieces to his outfit, like his wings, and his goggles while repeating his speech. When he reached his final line “I believe we can do better.” He looked directly into the camera. You held his gaze for a second before cutting off the recording.

“People are going to love it, Sam.” You told him confidently.

“We’ll see I guess.” He took his phone from you and added his own caption to the video. “Wanted to get in on the trend. Have a safe and happy 4th of July.” He added in a few hashtags before posting the video.

“Now will the two of you let me enjoy the rest of my day in peace?” Sam asked setting his phone down.

“I don’t know, I kind of want to see you make a Sam Eagle TikTok now that [Y/N] has put that idea in my head.” Bucky announced.

“This is my place.” Sam reminded you both. “I can kick you out any time.”

“I was promised cold beer and free food. I’m not leaving until I get both.” Bucky insisted. “And don’t bother asking if I’d throw hands with Captain America because we both know you wouldn’t be the first or even the second to find out that answer is yes.” Bucky sat down on the couch you’d once occupied. Sam had a witty retort prepped and ready to fire, but his phone began to buzz in his hand.

“Our TikTok’s got a like.” He shared proudly. His phone buzzed again. “Oh another one!”

“There’s a few comments too.” Bucky said. “’Welcome to the App Cap’ and ‘It’s the 40’s fit for me.’ [Y/N], what does fit mean?”

Within minutes Sam’s phone was booming with notifications. They were happening so frequently he had to set the sound to completely silent just so he could hear himself think. There were a few negative comments. Someone had dredged out the classic “Not My Cap” hashtag, but overall the response was positive. After twenty-four hours the video had over 500 thousand likes and ten thousand comments.

“[Y/N], you want a job as my social media/PR?” Sam jokingly texted you the next morning. “But seriously, it was a good idea. Thanks for the assist.”

“Anything for you, Cap.” You replied back. “You can pay me back with dinner next Saturday night. I’m still dreaming of last night’s dinner. Oh also, I stole a flannel from your closet.” You added a winking emoji before sending Sam a photo of you wearing his flannel shirt.

“It’s yours.” He replied. “That shirt’s never looked so good.”

“I can think of one place it might look better. You’re floor.” You sent, trying to sound flirty.

“That’s probably where you found it in the first place.” He messaged back with a series of laugh emojis. “You can return it if you want.”

“You’re so oblivious!” You told him with an eyeroll emoji. “The shirt is mine, and…” But before you could send another reply a new message from Sam came through.

“I’m just joking. Are you free tomorrow for dinner?” He wanted to know.

“We just had dinner together yesterday.” You reminded him.

“Now who’s oblivious? You have to eat every day don’t you? And Bucky wont be at this dinner.” He texted back all in one message.

“Ohhhhhh.” You typed several extra ‘H’s to emphasize your realization. “I’ll see you at 6, your place.”

#Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson Captain America #Sam Wilson x Reader #Sam Wilson Reader Insert #Sam Wilson Fan Fiction #Sam Wilson Fan Fic #Sam Wilson FF #4th of July #TikTok

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

A Very Rogers Christmas. Part 3- From Head To Mistletoe

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and Steve has a little accident in the bathroom. Once the trauma is dealt with the Rogers family head off to visit Pepper and Morgan before coming home to settle in and wait for Santa. And Steve’s hell bent on unwrapping one particular present early…

Warnings: Language, smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: The final part of my Stark Spangled 2020 Christmas special- A Very Rogers Christmas.  I hope you all enjoy and thank you for your support when my other blog was flagged as obscene. Next year SSB will be ‘relaunched’ through the new blog, and I will take the time to change anything that I didn’t quite like. I look forward to seeing you all there. But for now, I leave you with this hot mess and wish you all a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS. Thank you for being as invested in Stark Spangled as me.

And to my Evangers… @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ , @icanfeelastormbrewing​ , @southerngracela​ and @ohthankevans13​ I would NOT have got through 2020 without you. This one is most CERTAINLY for you girls. I love you 3000.

Steve groaned as he heard Rori's angry voice from the landing.

"Jamie, tell Stark to stop chasing Erica!"

"He's a dog!" Jamie responded. "It’s what they do, they chase cats."

"Well, stop him!"

"How?" Jamie's voice was punctuated by laughter. "It isn't like I make him do it!"

"Hold still." Katie warned Steve and he let out a sigh, his hands gently smoothing up the back of her thighs as she concentrated on ensuring the lines of his newly shorter beard were neat.

"Sorry, Doll." He muttered, watching her face as she concentrated, her green eyes following the trimmers as her right hand steadily guided them across his left cheek. "Listening to them argue is setting my teeth on edge."

"Baby, I only have the other cheek to neaten, then you can go and tell them both off." Katie stepped back to admire her handy work. "I was kind of hoping their Christmas Eve boxes would have kept them quiet for a little longer."

"Well," Steve turned his head to peek into their room where Harry was sat in the middle of their large bed, looking at the activity book he had gotten in his, "worked for him."

"Always does." Katie chuckled. "He's so well behaved compared to those reprobates."

They watched him for a moment or two before Katie reached up and moved Steve's face sideways so she could start on his right cheek, giving him a soft kiss as she did so. "You look incredibly handsome." She practically purred and Steve grinned, feeling his cheeks and neck grow warm as they always did when she looked at him the way she was doing.

Seventeen years and she could still turn his insides to mush with a single look.

"Yeah?" He asked, her lips still brushing his as she nodded. "Even though I've shaved the beard?"

"Well-" she kissed him again, "-technically you trimmed it, not shaved it. It's just shorter. But yes, I'd still find you devastatingly good looking without it, as you know."

Steve grinned, turned his head to allow Katie to finish and just as she had raised the clippers it all went horribly wrong.

There was a yell again from the landing and a moment or two later the door to their bedroom flung open, causing Steve to whip his head round.

"STEVE!" Katie cried out a warning but it was too late. As Steve turned his head to look at Rori as she barrelled through the door to their bathroom, he managed to catch his cheek on the clippers and he heard Katie gasp. He froze, looked at his wife and then stood hastily up to glance in the mirror and gave a groan. A large chunk of his beard was now completely missing from his right cheek. And he could tell as he looked at it that no amount of trimming was going to save it.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he turned to Rori and she swallowed, eyes growing wide as she registered the tone of his voice. It was deep but quiet, the voice he always used when he was pissed off. "You knock before you come barging into mine and your mother's room, Aurora."

"I'm sorry." Rori blinked, the use of her full name not passing her by. "But Jamie-"

"Don't wanna hear it."

"Yeah, but he-" "What did I just say?" Steve’s voice rose in volume as he glared at her. "I'm not interested in whatever stupid little argument the pair of you have got going on. It stops now. You understand?'

Rori stared back at her father, her face positively mutinous and Katie hastily turned away before she burst out laughing at the fact they were stood in identical poses, arms folded, feet apart as they engaged in the silent stand-off. Whilst Rori undeniably looked like her, she had so many of her father's mannerisms, all the kids did to be fair, and her middle daughter was a perfect blend of both the Stark and Rogers sass and stubbornness.

She was a nightmare at times but at others amusing as hell.

As Katie busied herself straightening a few bottles on the bathroom side she heard Rori give an exasperated sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry I barged in here okay? But Jamie really is being a pain!"

"Right now you're being a pain." Steve shot back somewhat childishly. "A huge pain in my ass."

"Language!" Harry chanted as he looked over towards his father, and that was it, Katie couldn't hold it any longer and she burst out laughing.

Steve turned to her, arching an eyebrow and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Steve, but..."

With a groan Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go speak to Jamie, then I'll come back and sort this out." He gestured to his face before he turned and headed out of the room, calling to Jamie as he went. Less than ten minutes later both brother and sister had been told to quit it, Rori was in her room with the cat whilst Harry had wandered into Jamie's room and settled on a bean bag by his elder brother to watch Back To The Future. Flossie had, miraculously, slept through the entire scenario and …well, she was mourning the loss of Steve's magnificent beard he had sported for so many years.

"I can’t believe it." She whined. "Stevie, I wanna cry.”

Steve rolled his eyes, whilst he had to admit it wasn't exactly what he had planned, he wasn't as bothered about it as her. "It'll grow back.”

Katie eyed him shrewdly, cooking her head to one side. He'd come back from the barbers yesterday with a shorter cut than he had sported in a long time. It reminded her a lot of how he had used to wear it when they first started dating. Short on the sides, slightly messier on top. Coupled with his now smooth face, she had to admit, it did make him look somewhat younger, although you could still see the odd fleck of grey here and there spattered in his dark, blonde locks.

"You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were having some some kind of midlife crisis" She looked up at him and he snorted. "Although you gotta admit, babes, you're a bit late to the party age wise so to speak."

He stood up with a shake of his head and glanced at the mirror. He hadn’t seen that reflection in a very long time.

“Bucky’s gonna have a field day when he sees this.”

“Well, lucky for you he’s away with Jen and the family for the holidays so you won’t have to face him until New Year, same goes for Sam. Morgan, on the other hand…”

“She’s seen me without a beard before.” He shrugged before he turned and headed into the bedroom.

“Not for a while.” Katie followed him as they both left their room and headed onto the landing.

“Yeah, I know but surely it-“

He was cut off by a loud scream and then the sound of crying which erupted from Harry as he stood in the doorway to Jamie’s room.

“Hey.” Steve frowned and made his way over towards the toddler “Buddy, what’s…”

But Harry continued screaming and he backed away from Steve, running into Jamie’s room and hiding behind his big brother who looked at him, then to his dad, a puzzled expression on his face. Steve glanced at Katie who was also frowning as she made her way into Jamie’s room and crouched next to their son who was gripping onto his brother’s sweater for dear life.

“Harry? Baby boy, what’s wrong?” she asked him softly, smoothing his hair back.

“That man!” he cried, his voice wracked with sobs “Who...where’s Daddy?”

“Oh, Honey!” Katie chuckled, picking him up. “That is your daddy!”

“No!” Harry screamed, shaking his head and burying his face into her neck. Steve stood dumbfounded in the doorway of Jamie’s room, absolutely stuck for words. He felt awful and completely helpless as Katie tried to soothe their son but Harry wasn’t having any of it.

“It is Harry!” Jamie spoke, looking at his brother who glanced at him, then to Steve and then continued crying.

“Steve, sing the song.” Katie spoke suddenly as she was hit with an idea. “The one you always use to sing him to sleep.”

“Erm…” Steve cleared his throat, before he gently began to croon the song he’d sung to all of their kids as young children. “Would you like to swing on a star…” his voice croaked a little, as he found the pitch to the Bing Crosby song, “carry moonbeams home in a jar.  And be better off than you are. Or would you rather be a mule?”

At the sound of Steve singing Harry stopped crying and peeked across the room at him, his hand fisted in Katie’s hair, his cheeks tear stained, but his expression was almost curious now, not fearful.

“A mule is an animal with long funny ears, he kicks up at anything he hears” Steve continued as Katie rocked Harry a little in her arms, nodding to Steve as he tentatively walked into the room. “His back is brawny but his brain is weak, he's just plain stupid with a stubborn streak. And by the way, if you hate to go to school. You may grow up to be a mule”

Harry studied Steve a little more, his sniffles subsiding slightly.

“Or would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar, and be better off than you are, or would you rather be a pig?” Steve was just wondering how many more verses he was going to have to go through but thankfully, at that point, Harry gave a hiccup and held his arms out towards him. With a smile, Steve took him from Katie and held him securely, looking at him as he reached up and squished Steve’s cheeks with his little hands.

“Hi Daddy.” He whispered, wrapping his arms round his neck and Steve chuckled a little in relief, one large hand falling to the back of his son’s head as he kissed his cheek which was wet with tears.

“Hey, pal.”

“What’s going on?” Rori appeared, Erica in her arms, purring loudly as she scratched the kitten behind her ears.

“Oh, nothing.” Katie looked at her, “Harry got a little upset that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because I shaved my beard.” Steve explained before he snapped playfully at Harry’s finger which was prodding his nose.

“Well, what did you do that for?” Rori scoffed.                  

Steve looked at her as she gave a dramatic roll of her eyes before she spun on her heel and left heading back to her room. Steve turned to Katie and Jamie, the pair of them stifling laughter.

“Anyone got a seven foot block of Ice I can take another seventy year nap in?” he grumbled.

**** As was tradition on Christmas Eve, they celebrated with Pepper and Morgan. This year it was Pepper’s turn to host so just before 11am they all piled into the car, the roof rack packed with presents and made the hours trip upstate to the lake-house, Emmy and Peter set to meet them there.

As they walked up to the house, Katie carrying Flossie, Morgan came out to greet them stopping dead as she looked at Steve.

“Huh.” She mused, taking in his clean shaven face.

“Yeah, yeah, get it over with, Moo.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not laughing.” She shook her head seriously, looking at him from dark brown eyes the exact same as her fathers, the familiar Stark nose accentuating her face. With a sad sigh she walked over to Katie and lay her hand on her Auntie’s arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss. That beard, well it must have been hard to take.”

At that Katie burst out laughing as Steve let out a groan as he spotted Emmy doubled over on porch, howling.

“Did you tell Em what happened?” he looked accusingly at Katie who shrugged.

“I may have mentioned it before when she called.”

Steve rolled his eyes as they trudged inside, stomping their boots on the mat to get rid of any excess snow, a wave of loud chatter hitting their ear the minute they did. The room was warm, fire blazing and dotted around stood Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, Peter and his Aunt May. Greetings and hugs were shared, Happy taking the opportunity to coo over Flossie as she was much bigger than the last time he had seen her some months ago, and Katie hugged Pepper tight, accepting the glass of champagne that was passed to her.

As was the usual tradition, Pepper had laid on a glorious buffet which went down a treat. And once the food was eaten, Jamie and Morgan both wrapped up and headed out to give Gerald the Alpaca some of the vegetable trimmings that Pepper had saved for him. The younger kids settled in front of the TV to watch a film, Emmy and Peter both happily choosing to sit with them and Katie took a moment out of the wonderful madness to watch as Steve was actively engaged in some discussion with Rhodey, both men laughing and joking. With a smile she then turned her attention to Happy who had his arm looped around May, the pair of them chatting to Pepper as she topped their glasses up with a bottle she plucked from the fridge.

It had been this way for almost seven years now, how they spent Christmas Eve, and whilst Katie loved being surrounded by this patchwork, extended family, she couldn’t help but notice the huge Tony shaped hole.

A hole which, like the one he had left behind in her heart, failed to get any smaller as the years passed.

With super stealth skills that Natasha would have been proud of, Katie silently made her way from the room, grabbing her jacket and headed out, her feet crunching through the layer of snow that lay on the ground as she walked across the lawn and down to the small jetty from which they had laid Tony’s Arc Reactor onto the lake the day of his funeral.

She always felt a sense of peace being here, like there was some part of Tony still present. And to be fair, there was. Said Arc Reactor had sunk to the bottom of the lake once the wreath had rotted. But it was more than that, it was the only place she still felt truly close to her brother and she understood why. It was because this was where he’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted, a daughter, a wife, a home…the very things he’d sacrificed his life for.

With a sniffle, Katie stood at the edge of the small jetty and sighed, looking out over the partially frozen water. “Merry Christmas, Tone.” She whispered, wiping her eyes as her tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.

Back inside the house, Steve looked around for his wife only to notice she wasn’t there. Knowing instantly where she would be, he excused himself from the conversation and grabbed his coat, making his way down to the lake. Sure enough, he saw her stood at the end of the jetty, but before he could cross the snowy lawn towards her, he spotted Jamie and Morgan making their way back from Gerald’s little hut. Jamie stopped, spotting his mom and he turned and said something to Morgan, who nodded, and the pair of them trudged towards her. As Jamie reached his mother he gently slid his arm round her waist, and she turned towards him, dropping a kiss to his head, her arm draping over his shoulder. She then smiled at Morgan, her other arm looping round her niece and the three of them stood still for a moment, Katie’s cheek leaning on the top of Jamie’s head.

Steve gave a little smile, once more the pride and love welling in his chest at how damned thoughtful and willing to look after Katie his son was. As a cold wind whipped against his cheeks he took a deep breath and let it out softly, where it fogged in the air in front of him.

“Merry Christmas Tony.” He said gently before, satisfied Katie wasn’t alone, he turned round and headed back inside.

****

They stayed at Pepper’s until just early evening, when Katie suggested they head home as they still had a few things to do before they got the kids settled and tucked up for the evening. Rori opted to ride home with Emmy and Pete, much to Jamie’s delight, and at just gone five they headed back where the usual Christmas Eve chaos began. In true Rogers-Stark tradition, everyone had a new pair of Christmas Pyjamas to wear, as purchased by Katie, and once showers and baths had been had they all dressed in them and met in the den, Emmy and Peter roaring with laughter at Steve’s which bore the slogan ‘you Jingle my bells’. Rori’s were sparkly and pink, with a unicorn wearing a Santa Hat, Jamie’s were a replica of an Elf Uniform, Harry’s had a huge Christmas pudding on the front, Flossie’s little romper made her look like a reindeer and Katie had gotten Emmy and Pete matching Santa and Mrs Clause ones.

Once the tradition of singing a few carols around the piano was done, Rori insisting Katie played ‘Santa Baby’ three times,  they moved into the living room, the adults with a glass of wine or beer, kids with a hot chocolate and then began the usual discussion about which film they were going to watch.

“Do we have to?” Jamie groaned, as Rori demanded The Muppet Christmas Carol.

“I thought you liked this one?” Katie looked at him as she stood in front of the DVD rack.

“Yeah but we’ve seen it like a thousand times already this year.” He sighed. “Can I go watch It’s a Wonderful Life in the other room?”

“Erm…” Katie took a deep breath and Steve could tell she was trying to keep her face from falling at the fact Jamie didn’t want to sit and watch with them, which would break their tradition for the first time, and he gave a little cough and leaned towards Jamie who was sat on the chair next to the couch.

“Let’s watch The Muppets, and when they’ve all gone to bed you can stay up with and we’ll watch your choice.”

“Really?” Jamie looked at him.

Steve nodded “You keep telling me you’re older now so, well, you can stay up a little later. Just don’t mention it, okay?”

“Sure.” Jamie grinned, before he cleared his throat. “It’s okay mom, I changed my mind.”

Once the film was on, Katie settled down on the sofa, tucked under Steve’s arm as he pressed a kiss to her head, her hands lightly trailing shapes over his arm which was crossed over her chest, holding her close to him.

They laughed and sang their way through the movie, the only movement being Pete and Steve taking it in turns to keep the adult’s alcohol supply topped up and once it was done Rori jumped up, grinning and exclaiming loudly that it was time to leave the treats out for Santa.

Katie and Steve both headed into the kitchen where Katie handed Rori the large plate that Steve had painted years ago, which identified spaces for each separate item, and now sported Flossie’s name alongside the other four and with a loud instruction for Rori and Harry to calm down, Steve handed, Harry a carrot before he grabbed a mince pie and a bottle of beer for Santa- well, he can’t have milk in every house, that just gets boring- and he made his way into the living room where Rori placed the plate down in the middle of the coffee table and they set about arranging the treats.

But Rori wasn’t happy.

"Daddy it's wrong!" "What’s wrong?" Steve looked at Rori and she pointed to the plate.

"There's only one carrot."

"Yeah, for Rudolph."

"But what about Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen?" Steve blinked as she dropped her hands to her hips, giving him a look so reminiscent of the one Katie shot him when she thought he was being a dumbass. "It isn't all about Rudolph, Daddy" "Well, we haven’t got any more carrots, Princess." He pondered "You think the reindeers would like broccoli?" "Don't be ridiculous." Rori shot back but at that point Peter interjected "They do, Titch. I left it one year. They ate the lot" Steve didn't miss the way Emmy looked at Peter as he nodded seriously to Rori, his eldest daughter’s eyes wide with pride and love and he bit back the smile threatening to spread across his face. "It’s true Rori." Jamie added, playing along. "They like most veg." "Ooh, okay! I’ll go ask momma for a selection." She exclaimed, running out of the room. Steve turned to Pete, clapping him between the shoulders "Nice one Queens." He then shook his head "Why the hell is leaving just one suddenly a problem this year?" "Yeah that might be our fault." Emmy grimaced a little "We watched the Christmas Chronicles earlier at Auntie Pep's" "Figures." Steve sniffed. "I suppose I should be thankful she's being so kind. She does love animals." Jamie snorted "Yeah go tell that to Mom now little miss Diva is in there demanding half the veg prepped for dinner tomorrow." Steve groaned "Ahh shit, Honey!" He quickly exited the lounge and headed to the kitchen in time to see Katie stood, frowning as Rori hastily explained the issue. "So I need some broccoli, and cauliflower and...erm...what else is there?" "Potatoes, cabbage, green beans and sprouts." "Yeah. Sprouts!" Katie looked up at Steve, mouthing what the fuck is going on and he snorted as she shook her head and moved to the pans on the stove. She pulled a few pieces of each veg out, placed them in a bowl and handed it to Rori. "Thanks Momma!" She grinned, carefully carrying her precious reindeer food from the room. "Nine reindeer huh?" She looked at Steve as he laughed and crossed to room to give her a kiss. "Reckon you just saved Christmas Eve, Mrs Rogers." "Hmmm." She grinned, her arms sliding round Steve's neck. "How fast do you think you can get them into bed?" Steve arched an eyebrow as his hands landed on her hips. "Why? You got plans?" "Yes." She deadpanned, causing him to chuckle. "We got another film to watch with Jamie first." Steve's fingers flexed against Katie's hips and she gave a sigh. "I forgot about that. God, why does he have to keep growing up?" she grumbled, and Steve laughed as she pressed her face into his chest."I wish I'd known last year it was gonna be the final time he believed in Santa." "Well, I'm kinda pleased that the fat, sack carrying bastard doesn't get the credit for all our hard work with at least two of them." He shrugged causing Katie to snort. "The amount of effort we go to only for him to take the plaudits takes the piss." "Steven Grinch Rogers." Katie looked at him as she pulled away. "You sound like Tony."

"Well, he didn't always talk crap." Steve smiled and Katie grinned as he gave her another soft kiss. Together they left the kitchen and headed back to the lounge where the kids were now dotted about. Harry was sat on Emmy's knee looking at a book, whilst Rori was busy prodding at her tablet showing something to Peter. Jamie was snuggled with Stark and Erica on the chair and Katie had to smile, the kitten had taken a liking to her rescuer, much to Rori's irritation. "Okay kids." Katie clapped her hands. "It’s getting kinda late and I'd hate for Santa to arrive and not be able to come in so..." "Bed time!" Harry grinned, jumping up and off Emmy's lap, the young woman scoffing indignantly. "If only you were this enthusiastic about going to sleep all the time."  Steve mused, swinging Harry up into the air, smoothing his hair back, planting a kiss to his cheek. "But we don't get presents all the other times when we wake up." Rori shrugged. And Steve couldn't really argue against her logic.

***** Jamie fell asleep halfway through It’s A Wonderful Life, and when the film finished Steve gently woke him up where he stretched and let out a yawn before he rubbed his eyes, coming to. He stood up and bid them all a good night, and by the time Katie went upstairs to tuck him in, he was once again crashed out.

Steve, Katie, Emmy and Pete then all settled in the kitchen as it was the furthest part of the house from the bedrooms. Katie pulled a charcutteri board from the fridge as Steve cracked open the Asgardian Bourbon for him and Pete, Katie and Emmy remaining on the champagne. With Christmas songs playing in the background they played a few games of Go Fish, which grew louder and more competitive the more drink they consumed. Eventually, when Pete claimed the last game, Steve tossed his cards down with a disgusted grimace.

“Outrageous.” He shook his head, laughing as Emmy nudged him hard in the ribs.

“You’re such a sore loser, dad!” she scoffed and he looked at her, arching his eyebrow.

“Carry on and Santa won’t be leaving you anything tonight.”

“He isn’t anyway.” Pete grinned, “She’s firmly on the naughty list.”

There was a pause as Steve turned his head slowly to look at him and Pete flushed furiously, recoiling in his seat as he realised what he’d just said as Katie tipped her head back, letting out a huge laugh.

“Aaaaand that’s our cue to leave.” Emmy stood up. “Come on Pete, you fucking moron.”

“Language!” Steve shot out, pointing at her and she replied by flipping him off.

“See you in the morning.” She smiled, giving both her parents a hug and a kiss before she headed out of the door, Pete simply smiling sheepishly as she tugged him behind her and across the garden to the cabin.

And then it was time to set out the presents.

Katie began to clear the table as Steve headed out to the garage to retrieve the gifts from their hiding place, setting them out in the lounge into separate piles before Katie came in with the smaller items she’d hidden in the under-stairs storage for the stockings which were hung over the hearth. Half an hour or so later they stood back to admire their handy-work, new bikes for Jamie, Rori and Harry taking centre stage on their piles, whilst Emmy and Pete’s gift was a little smaller, as keys to an apartment in London didn’t really take up much room when all was said and done.

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas already.” Katie sighed, looking around. “I mean this time last year we were getting ready to have Floss, and when I think back about everything that’s happened since then…”

“It’s been a heavy year.” Steve nodded, his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her from behind. “But we made it. You’re amazing, you know that.”

“Team effort.” Katie leaned back into him, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Steve gently moved one hand and reached up to sweep her hair away from her neck. His fingers softly brushed her skin and she gave a little shudder as he dropped his head, his lips kissing softly beneath her ear.

“Gram mo Chroi…” he whispered and she let out a soft sigh, his lips kissing up to her jaw line before she turned and ran her hands up his chest, bringing them to rest on his shoulders.

“Still?” her eyes were bright a she peered up at him and Steve smiled, nodding, knowing full well she was referring to the first time he’d said those words to her on Christmas Eve some seventeen years ago.

“Til the end of the line, pretty girl.” he dropped his head to give her a kiss, one hand on her hip, the other cradling the back of her head as he held her to him, his mouth locked on hers. Soon she felt both of his hands on her back, then they slowly slid down her body, cupping her ass.

“So, about those plans you had…” he muttered against her lips and she smirked, pulling back a little.

“Thought you might fancy unwrapping one of your gifts early.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” she grinned. “I mean I’ve been a very good girl, Santa.”

“That’s debatable.” Steve’s smirk grew even wider. Although the sooner I can get out of these hideous pyjamas the better!”

“You know they’re gonna have to go back on after, right?” she laughed as she reluctantly untangled herself from him so she could turn off the lights on the tree and the garland over the hearth. “None of that lot are knocking tomorrow morning before they come in to wake us up.”

“Remind me again why we have no lock for the door.” Steve asked as he took her hand and they walked up the stairs before they took a quick peek in on their kids. All four were sleeping soundly, Stark curled round Jamie’s feet, Erica round Rori’s head on her pillow.  As Katie gently pulled the door to Rori’s room shut, she turned to Steve who pulled her back towards him, his hands sliding down and grabbing the top of her thighs, hauling her off her feet, causing her to giggle.

“Now, where were we Mrs Rogers?”

“Debating whether or not I’m on the naughty list.” She grinned, her legs locking around his waist.

“I think that’s a given, Doll.” Steve smirked, kissing her as he carried her into their room. “When it comes to being naughty, you’re very good at it.”

Katie let out a chuckle as he dropped her onto the bed, wasting no time as he stripped her bare, before he dispensed of his own pyjamas, falling over her, his hands running through her hair as he looked at her.

“You’re beautiful.” his lips ghosted hers, noses bumping and she smiled against his mouth.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She whispered before he kissed her again, deeply and slowly, the desire and love flowing between the pair of them was evident as Katie let out a soft whimper, her back arching a little into the kiss which broke a moment later as Steve trailed hot, open mouthed pecks across her jaw line to that spot below her ear. He watched carefully, Katie’s facial expression forming into the one he knew so well as she sighed, his mouth dropping down her neck to her collar bone, his teeth gently grazing over the skin.

His hand trailed down her side, tracing the curve of her hip, the pads of his fingers barely touching her but it was enough. She started to clench her legs together as she bucked her pelvis up and his other hand gently reached up, curling around her jaw as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Patience.”  He instructed, his voice a deep, quiet chuckle. Her eyes widened and she swallowed, a whimper escaping her mouth as he kissed her again, his tongue sliding over her lips before it tangled with her own, grazing the roof of her mouth. He broke the kiss again, but this time their mouths stayed pressed together, each breathing the other’s air as his hand moved down over her stomach and gently parted her folds. Katie moaned as he softly ran his fingertips up and down across her slick, his touches soft, teasing nowhere near enough to satisfy her at all and he knew that. He kept his strokes feather-light, just enough to keep exciting her, coaxing more and more wetness from her as his mouth moved down her neck, sucking at the hollow before he moved then to her breasts. His tongue lapped at her nipples in turn, teasing them to hard peaks slowly, as his fingers were working her and she trembled underneath him, the subtle touches not nearly enough.

“Steve…” she let out a choked whisper of his name that was almost a sob. “Please.”

At that he pushed one finger inside of her, curling against her spot, his thumb gently stroking over her clit. Katie’s back arched violently off the bed and he moved again, his mouth back on hers. She responded by kissing him back, and as the kiss grew in intensity so did the pace of Steve’s fingers.

This was torturous pleasure for Katie, Steve just toying with her as he wished. The fire was burning in the pit of her belly, but it was like the low, dull burn of an ember which was waiting to burst into flames. And it was driving her wild. But, as always, he knew just how and what to do and sensing that she was reaching her limit he picked up the pace a little, inserting another finger insider her as he continued tracing circles on her clit. Her back arched off the bed again, and her core tightened before she gave a strangled, low groan which died in her throat as a wave of pleasure washed over her, her legs growing stiff a little before she stilled, her breathing deep, breasts heaving in the dim light of the lamp.

Steve didn’t give her a second’s reprieve. His mouth was back on hers, both large hands cupping her face with a strong grip as he rather unceremoniously nudged her legs apart with his knee. As Katie bent her legs to accommodate him he shuffled forwards, and she reached down with one hand, grabbing at his solid cock, guiding it to where she needed him most.

He slid into her easily, his hands gripping into her hair as he rest on his elbows which were planted either side of her shoulders. His thrusts were deep, slow, controlled, each roll of his hip forward brushing against that spot inside of her. It felt so fucking good that Steve was in no rush for any of this to end, enjoying the fact he was loving his wife in a way only he could. Their bodies were moulded together in the most intimate of dances, Katie’s moving slightly with Steve’s as his hips drove into her, lips pressed together in a barely there kiss, mouths open, as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“So good,” He whispered. “Always so good for me, sweetheart.”

Katie sighed back, it was all she could do as Steve gave a small whimper, his head pressing further to hers as her hands slid up his back, tangling in his hair. As her nails dug lightly into his scalp, Steve tipped his head back a little bit and gave a harsher thrust into her making her cry out a little, her hands tightening around his blonde locks.

He repeated his action, barely pulling back an inch, rolling into her as opposed to thrusting and she felt the familiar, tingle brewing in her belly and upper thighs before with a final silent cry she bucked underneath him, her walls clamping down on his dick as she came, her entire body going rigid before she sagged back underneath him, utterly boneless.

Steve picked up the pace a little, chasing his own release, his mouth back on hers, his groans gathering volume as his hips increased their momentum. With a dirty grunt, which he stifled into the crook of her neck, he came hard, and the world felt like it was completely tipping on its axis as his hips slowed to a stop and he dropped down, pressing his weight onto his wife.

Neither of them moved for a while. The room was silent bar the deep, ragged breathing from the both as they lay still. Katie could feel Steve pulsing inside her as the final throes of his orgasm subsided before he lifted himself a little, his mouth seeking out hers as her fingers danced down his neck.

The kiss was soft, his hands once more cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking over her cheekbones as he pressed his forehead to hers, his nose gently sliding against hers as he pulled away ever so slightly to look at her.

“I love you,” his hands brushing her hair off her face as he kissed her again, enjoying the feeling as her lips curled into a smile against his, “from your head to your mistletoes”

At that she burst out laughing, her head falling back further against her pillow as she looked at him, her eyes shining as she shook her head slightly.

“Your dad joke game is strong, old man.” She snorted before she moved her hands from where they had been stroking the nape of his neck and cupped his face in the pads of her fingers. “I love you too, jingle balls included.”

At that Steve gave a bellow of laugher which she hastily stifled beneath her hand so as not to wake their children. As his chuckles subsided, he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist and kissed her palm.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” He smiled, letting go her arm as he dropped his head.

“Merry Christmas, Soldier.” She whispered, before his lips captured hers once more.

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #katie stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character

[steverogersbingo]

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself. 

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

#steve rogers bingo 2021 #2021 round up

[cha-lyn]

Bucky Takes a Hint

bearded + beefy!Bucky x poc + female!Reader

Warnings: profanity, blatant sexaul themes and metaphors, implied smut

A/N: All italics are 100% the geniusness of Cardi B and Megan thee Stallion’s WAP. It might add to the story if you listen to that while reading, i don’t fuckin’ know. Oh, and the spacing is weird thanks to my laptop. Also, If you asked to be tagged in all my stuff and i didn’t tag you plz holla at me. I’ll fix it. 

Word count: 963 

*not edited. barely proofread.

- - - 

It’s Avenger karaoke night, one of Bucky’s least favorites. Well, most days he hated so that wasn’t saying much. Thor is there so everyone-- even Bucky and Steve-- is at least buzzed. He’s bored though,slightly annoyed with how much fun everyone else is having. His eyes frequently find you. 

You’re in those little grey sleep shorts that show off the roundness of your ass and Brooklyn Nets long sleeve tee. So basically, in Bucky’s eyes, you looked fine as hell.

Bucky has a bit of a crush on you. More than that really. He’ll never admit it even though you flirt with him blatantly and frequently-- because he doesn’t quite think he deserves someone like you. You’re bright and kind and graceful in everything you do. But you’re also so very fierce and strong and ruthless on the battlefield. And you always smelled like shea butter and lavender, reminding him of calm days in Wakanda. You’re the opposite of him in every way. 

So he thinks.

You have a giant ass crush on Bucky Barnes. Even has he broods in the corner nursing his Asgardian liquor. He’s beefy and grumpy, but he’s quietly witty, too. You watch him on missions and Damn. It’s like a bullet studded ballet how he moves. Not to mention that arm. The fuckin’ arm. 

You have a hunch that he might have similar feelings. You catch him looking at you while you’re working out, while you’re kicking bad guy ass in the field, but also when you’ve just woken up and your shoving waffle in your face, hair still a mess and spilling out of your satin sleep scarf. You’ve thought a lot about why your obvious repeated flirting hasn’t caused him to crack, but you haven’t figured it out yet.

But tonight on this very karaoke night, you’re gonna change all that. Usually you sing 2000s pop or 1990s R&B only. Tonight you’re trying to send a message though, so you're singing something different.

“Okay, okay,” Sam coughs after another round of shots, “Who’s up next?!” You bolt up, teetering just a little. Sam grins, “What song?”

You skip over and whisper your choice in his ear. 

Sam’s eyes go a little wide. “Shit. If you say so.” He pulls up the song and you head to the center of the room.

The hook starts:

Whore’s in this house 

There’s some whores in this house

There’s some whores in this house

You start to sing.

Steve goes red. Natasha whoops. Peter hides his face in a pillow. Sam’s grinning and shaking his head. Tony is cackling and Thor’s brow is furrowed as he tries to catch up with all the strange metaphors. Wanda’s mouth hits the floor. Bucky doesn’t react, but his eyes are locked on you. You’re twirling your hips and flipping your hair. You’re only looking at Bucky. 

Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes

This pussy is wet, come take a dive

You drop to the floor, pushing your chest out, mic-free hand falling between your legs. Natasha and Wanda start throwing Monopoly money at you, but you only have eyes for one person.

Tie me up like I'm surprised

Let's roleplay, I'll wear a disguise

I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage

Make it cream, make me scream

You’re thrusting your hips out with almost every other word. Bucky blinks very slowly, which isn’t enough for you. You lock eyes with your target and you lick and bite your lips for the next verse, intent on making yourself very clear. 

He got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it

I let him taste it, now he diabetic

You abandon the mic and drop down to your knees, crawling in his direction. Bucky doesn’t move. You get to him, basically in a child's pose, kneeling in front of him, gyrating your hips to the lyrics. 

I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp

I wanna gag, I wanna choke

I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat

Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you, like a predator locked on its prey. Very subtly he licks his lips and that's all the confirmation you were looking for.

Smirking, you turn and stand shaking and rolling your ass as you continue to lip sync. Finally you take a page right out of Cardi and Megan’s book and hit the splits. The room roars with cheers that you ignore as you look over your shoulder at Bucky. With Cardi’s final WAP, WAP, WAPs, you bounce your split ass on the floor. 

The final hook of the song fades out and the claps and cheers get louder.

“DAMN! Where did you learn to do all that?” Wanda praises, “Better yet when can you teach me?!” 

You throw your head back and laugh, “Whenever you want babe. Who’s next?”

Tony scoffs, “I’d hate to be anyone who follows that amazing performance.”

Turns out nobody wanted to follow you, so one by one as the pretzels and brownies dwindled down, so did the company. Until it was just you and Bucky. 

After a few minutes of sexually tense silence, you stood and stretched. “I’m headed to bed. G’night Buck.”

You don't even hear him get up and then he’s behind you, turning you by your hips and backing you into a wall. He just stares down at you, which for anyone else might’ve been creepy, but it’s just what you wanted. 

“What’s up Buck? Something on your mind?”

“Yea.” His warm breath tickles your face and makes your pussy clench.

“Yea. So do something about it then.” 

Bucky’s eyes go dark and he gets to ensuring that your wet ass pussy is as advertised.

- - - 

taglist: @thefridgeismybestie @basically-introverted 

#Bucky Barnes #bucky one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #wap #cardi b #megan thee stallion #MCU fanfiction #bucky x poc #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfic

[not-close-to-straight]

Falling (Chapter Two)

Welcome back to the story! Lots of questions answered here and probably a few brought up, but I had the most fun recreating our faves for this verse and I am literally foaming at the mouth wanting to expand on their stories! 

FALLING MASTERLIST HERE

******************

“My arc reactor is gone, but I have the scars from Afghanistan.” Tony said the words slowly, clearly into the quiet of his guest bedroom as the sun came up the next morning. “I still look the same age, I still have the gray hair, I still have the bruises from trying to deal with Cap and Thor in the woods the other day. I have all my memories, including the ones I’d rather not, I still know all the words to Back in Black and Shoot to Thrill. I don’t have an arc reactor but that doesn’t mean I’m not me, I’m still me.” 

“It’s been at least thirty six hours since the wormhole.” he said next, running through the numbers in his head again, counting out the hours on his fingers just to have something solid to make note of. “Thirty six hours because Bucky and Steve who definitely aren't Captain America and a resurrected Sergeant Barnes found me in the later afternoon, then I slept through the night and most of yesterday, then spaced out again and slept all night.” 

‘Spaced out’ wasn’t the right word though, the right word was dropped and that sounded like sub-drop and that sounded like what used to happen the few times Tony had gone to that club downtown and had the sheer misfortune of ending up with a shitty Dom that left him vulnerable after a scene. 

The right word was dropped, and Steve and Bucky had helped Tony through it, Steve had actually gone down on his knees in front of Tony and held him and well, pigs must be flying, because Tony hadn’t ever thought he’d see Captain America on his knees. 

He’d never thought he’d see Steven Grant Rogers attempting to meet him on equal ground and similar footing much less kneeling at his side and offering comfort but then again, this Steve wasn’t really Captain America, was he?

“Ever since Thor arrived on Earth and his bratty fucking brother followed him, it's generally accepted that worm holes are passages, doors between realms or universes or whatever we want to call them.” Tony kept reciting facts, knowledge, filling the silence with things he knew to be true so he wouldn’t linger too long on all the what if’s. 

Everything was absolutely crazy right now but he was still Tony Stark, still a genius, he’d built computers as a damn toddler and took MIT by storm before he was even legal to drink. He could handle the science behind going into a wormhole above the Stark tower and coming out the other side into--

-- into this. 

“Even the ancient Greeks thought there were parallel or at least alternate universes.” Tony breathed in and then out, in and then out. “And then Schrodinger said hey, maybe it’s not parallel, maybe they are simultaneous and that makes sense in a quantum sort of way. Simultaneous universes. I went through the door out of my universe and into a door to a different one and this is all happening at the same time everything is happening back home.” 

“That makes sense.” He told himself again, and it made sense to Tony’s rational brain but it sure didn’t make sense to his emotions or his heart or his instincts that kept telling him to settle down and enjoy the change and to stop asking questions.

Now was not the time for his slightly hedonistic tendencies to make an appearance. Just cos he might be in an alternate, simultaneous reality with two figments right out of his unrealized wet dreams didn’t mean Tony should just lay back and accept it, right? 

Right?

“Good morning, beauty.” 

A part of Tony felt like he should be annoyed that neither Steve nor Bucky gave anything other than a warning rap at the door before they walked in. It was very Dom behavior, very ‘we do what we want in our house’ behavior and sure, that was valid but he still felt like he should be annoyed. 

But the thing was, he wasn’t annoyed. Even with the questions swirling round in his mind and the facts that didn’t add up enough to ease the incredulity of the situation, Tony wasn’t annoyed when Bucky came in holding a cup of coffee and a donut in one big hand, and he definitely wasn’t annoyed by the pleased smile on the brunettes face when he saw Tony sitting up already. 

Nope, not annoyed. Instead Tony was thrilled and exhilaration ran hot through his body when the Dominant set everything down and reached over to brush at his cheek, to tangle in his hair for a few seconds before letting go. 

“How are you, baby doll?” 

“Better than yesterday.” Tony’s breath hitched when Bucky pulled away, and the Dom nodded in understanding before sitting down next to him on the bed, budging up close until they were thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. “Shit. Thanks. That’s um-- that’s good.” 

“Sure thing, sweet thing.” Bucky answered easily. “Anytime you need me, you just let me know okay? M’more than happy to sit here with you like this. Need me closer?” 

“No I think--” the Dom let his hand rest heavy and warm on Tony’s thigh and a ball of tension released in his chest, leaving him loose as he sagged into Bucky’s shoulder. “God, that’s good. Thank you.” 

“I’ve got you.” Bucky was quiet a moment, then cleared his throat. “Listen, Tony. You don’t have to tell us much of anything about your past if you don’t want, not right now and not even really anytime soon. But for our own safety and out of respect for anyone who holds your contract, I gotta ask. Are you not wearing a collar by choice, or because of something else?” 

“A collar.” Tony was a quick thinker, fast on picking up cues, faster with formulating bullshit and once he glanced at the thick ring on Bucky’s finger that matched what Steve wore, it took all of three seconds for him to realize that here Dominants wore rings and submissives… well submissives must wear collars. 

Ownership, right? Submission and control, collars and rings.

And if Tony wearing a collar was a normal, expected thing then that meant most people identified as either sub or Dom which meant society was more than likely built on constructs along the same lines which meant Tony had either hit his head really hard or the world was suddenly tilted or alternate or--

--or oh fuck, parallel. Wormholes and parallel places and new realities oh my. 

“I am not wearing a collar by choice.” he finally said, slowly and carefully as he thought about the easiest way to answer the unexpected question. “Not really my style. I don’t uh-- don’t have any other reason to not be wearing one. Nothing--” a quick glance at the Dom to read his expression and Tony finished, “-- traumatic. Just by choice.” 

“Okay. Good job, thank you telling me.” Bucky picked up Tony’s hand and kissed his knuckles and a nearly embarrassing shiver rippled through Tony’s body at the open approval. “I’m sure you know why it’s dangerous for us to have you here if another Dom has your contract. Don’t think you aren’t welcome to stay if you’re in some sorta trouble, but I needed to check before Stevie gets any ideas about keeping you--” 

“--keeping me?!” 

“Don’t interrupt me.” Bucky ordered mildly and just like that, Tony closed his mouth. “Thank you. You’re very sweet. Stevie already wants you to stay, but he always acts on his heart before his brain kicks in so someone’s gotta make sure everything’s alright first. That someone’s always me. You know one time I had to grab him by the damn belt to keep him from leaping out a window after some guy who stole a friends purse?” 

“I um-- I fully believe that.” Tony smiled a little. “Yeah, I find that perfectly believable.” 

“Stevie’s heart is good but his impulse control isn’t great.” Bucky smiled too, but it was fond and affectionate and halfway to smitten. “So. You don’t have a Dom then. No contract out there we’ll be prosecuted for breaking or tryna interfere with?” 

“No uh-- no contract.” Tony shook his head adamantly. “No Dominant. No.” 

“Okay then.” Bucky pressed at Tony’s hand one more time before straightening up off the bed. “Get dressed and come out to the living room and see what Steve is painting. You need to drink some juice, have some breakfast and then we’ll figure out what to do the rest of the day.” 

“Yes sir.” Tony said automatically and before he could think to take it back or even wonder where the hell it had come from, the Dom’s eyes flickered and a slow smile spread over Bucky’s face. 

“You got no idea how much I love hearing that, sugar.” he whispered and dropped a careful kiss on Tony’s forehead. “Fifteen minutes in the living room.” 

“...yes sir.” it came a little slower this time, but felt no less natural, no less right. “Fifteen minutes.” 

Steve was painting when Tony came out of the bedroom exactly fifteen minutes later, eyes narrowed in concentration as he worked a shade of purple into a canvas covered in blue and grays, brilliant orange in the middle and rolling clouds all around a column and--

“What is that?” Tony blurted before he could manage to stop himself, before the reminder to not interrupt his Dom-- a Dom-- this Dom-- came to mind. “What are you painting?” 

“Good morning, beauty.” Steve put the paintbrush down and swiveled in his chair to grin broadly at Tony, all focused intent and the sort of happiness Tony had never imagined seeing on Captain America’s face. “How did you sleep?” 

“Really good.” Tony felt the open welcome like sunshine against his skin, and he returned Steve’s smile as big as he could before asking again, “What are you painting?” 

“Don’t you remember a couple of months ago, that freak storm off the coast?” Steve went back to painting, picking up a small brush to dot silver through the lightning bolts. “Right here over Manhattan the weirdest clouds formed and everyone thought it was going to be a tornado and then it did this--”

He gestured to the painting, to the wormhole that looked an awful lot like the one that had opened above the Stark Tower and unleashed hell on Tony’s version of New York. “-- and the conspiracy theorists shrieked about wormholes and portals to different worlds, religious nuts screamed about Armageddon and the Anti Christ.” 

“Scientists decided it just an unusual event caused by rapid storm building and of a funnel cloud trying to form but there not being enough pressure to stabilize it or something like that.” Bucky interjected, pushing a cup of orange juice into Tony’s palm and not backing away until Tony took an obedient sip. “But Stevie thinks it's a path to a parallel world. A door in the sky.” 

“Really.” 

“Just think about it.” Steve insisted and the other Dom laughed at him, tipped his chin up for a quick kiss and then went to get his coat. “No Tony really! Think about it! Parallel or alternate universes. Simultaneous time lines or like.. mirrored existences. What ever you want to call them, there’s gotta be places out there where everything is the same except for one tiny detail, right? Multiple copies of existence where one thing is changed and that changes the whole world?” 

“Details like what?” Science Steve wasn’t a version Tony had thought to meet but the spark of excitement in the blue eyes sure was adorable. “What sort of things would be different?” 

“Me with a beard, maybe.” Steve said immediately. “Or Bucky as a pirate. Or one where it’s still some medieval time period and we’re knights. Mermaids. Something in space with aliens. One with--” 

“Stevie wants a universe for every one of his Halloween costumes!” Bucky called from the bedroom and Tony hid a laugh behind his hand when the blond Dom finished with a huff, “Or just anything different. That’s my point.” 

“Maybe world where people aren’t designated Dom and sub?” Tony suggested and Steve nodded quickly. “Because that-- that would be weird, right? An entire existence where you guys didn’t wear those rings and I didn’t feel like kneeling every time you so much as smile at me?” 

Bucky came back with his coat just in time to hear the comment, and the Doms exchanged a look Tony couldn’t quite read before Bucky asked, “You feel like kneelin’ for us, baby doll?” 

“I uh--” Tony’s hand went to his neck like he was missing something, maybe even something like a collar and Steve’s eyes lit in anticipation. “I um--” he coughed. “Well I think--” 

“Settle, sweetheart.” Bucky murmured after a moment of Tony stammering, and Steve agreed, “No rush, Tony.” 

“Right.” shit. “Thanks.” Tony sat with his juice in the chair Steve indicated, then glanced between them and asked, “Can I know about you two? I feel like you are both… familiar… but I can’t seem to place the names.” 

“You know us from the history books.” Steve began cleaning his brushes and missed the half panicked expression on Tony’s face. “Well not us but our Grandpas are pretty famous in military circles. We’ve got their names and Ma always said we were damn near doppelgangers for Gramps at enlistment age. You remember the old comic books about Captain America and the Howling Commandos?” 

“I’m vaguely familiar with them.” Tony nodded like his mind wasn’t trying to explode. “Yeah.” 

“Remember the stories about plucky sidekick Bucky Barnes?” Bucky added with a rueful smile. “All those comics were based on a super secret unit that kicked some serious Nazi ass back in the day. Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes, fuckin’ rabble rousers where they grew up in Brooklyn, crack shots and All American Heroes once they suited up and shipped out. Those comics were basically propaganda, but hey, whatever helps the war effort, right?”

“So you are both named after… Grandpa?” Tony guessed. “Carried on the family name and hopefully the honor. But you aren’t soldiers.” 

“Grandpa Steve met and married Grandma Peggy.” Steve nodded and Tony sort of felt like he might pass out. Steve and Peggy got married? “Bucky’s Grandpa married Bonnie and they settled into the same neighborhood. Raised their kids together, and when the kids grew up and moved with their own family, me and Buck were always sent back for the summers.”

“You know how mowing giant yards with ancient push mowers and painting fences builds character, right?” Bucky rolled his eyes.“All it taught us to was get better at sneaking off to go swimming. That’s when we fell in love too, summer we were fifteen years old. Stevie’s scrawny ass was gorgeous even back then, so I sure I didn’t mind him stripping down to just skivvies to seduce me at the docks.”

“I wasn’t seducing you at the docks, it was ninety four degrees outside and I didn’t have a bathing suit!” Steve made an offended noise and Bucky only grinned. “Wasn’t like you objected anyway. Weren’t gonna let a thing like ‘Dom’s don’t contract with out a submissive’ stop you from putting a ring on my finger, huh?” 

“Nah, babydoll, I sure didn’t.” Their kiss was packed full of sheer adoration, and maybe Tony should have looked away but somehow he knew it was okay that he was watching. His Doms-- er, the Doms wouldn’t be talking about this sort of thing in front of him if they didn’t want him to see how good their love was.

“I teach art at the college and before Bucky’s accident he worked as the conditioning coach for the football team.” Steve said next, easing back from Bucky’s next kiss slowly. “Now he’s mostly benched but they pay him a hell of a lot to write up strategies and plays and run the try outs.”

“You’re an art teacher.” Tony repeated, and in some distant part of his mind he wondered why all the things he’d read about his Steve Rogers, nothing ever mentioned that he’d been an artist. Had anybody actually known the guy, or had he gotten lost behind the shield? “And Bucky-- how did you get hurt?” 

“Train accident.” Bucky rolled his shoulder and Tony’s eyes dropped to the few inches that were what remained of the Dom’s left arm. “We went upstate for a ten year anniversary celebration, figured we could just cuddle up in the sleeping car and watch the fall foliage roll by, but there was an engine issue and the train derailed. Not too bad of an accident all things considered. Stevie managed to get out with a few bumps and bruises, I ended up losing my arm.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve just got a bad track record with trains.” Bucky's smile was easy enough but Steve's eyes darkened in remembered pain. “I’m either getting food poisoning on school field trips, or getting stuck in the worst seat possible that time we took one through the Great Lakes.” 

He shrugged. “I’ve got a prosthesis but it’s heavy and makes a weird noise when I try to move my fingers so it’s better off left at home. And since Stevie doesn’t care about the one arm--” Bucky raised his eyebrows and Tony automatically shook his head, he didn’t care about the arm, he couldn’t imagine ever caring about something like that. 

“No harm no foul then.” The Dom shrugged again. “I’ve gotten used to it.” 

“I could help you with a new prostheses if you wanted.” Tony blurted out. “I’m pretty mechanical and I could design something really nice for you. Not a problem.” 

“Maybe another time, sugar.” Bucky winked and Tony blushed a little bit but his mind was already racing, already thinking up schematics and how hard would it be to convert the design of his suits arm pieces into a fully robotic prostheses and whether or not he could get the parts in whatever this version of the universe was…

“Tell us a little about you, Tony.”  Steve finally covered up the wormhole painting and set it away. “Last name? Where you’re from?”

“Oh I’m from Manhattan.” Tony said automatically, then corrected, “But I’ve spent the last few years in Malibu, found myself in the uh-- Middle East. For a bit. Went to Monaco for a while too. I like to travel and my work in… IT… lets me do that.” 

Both Doms made agreeable noises and Tony took in a quick breath before adding, “Last name is Stark. Tony Stark.”

His heart stuttered uncertainly when Bucky and Steve exchanged confused looks, and Bucky asked, “Stark. Why do we know that name?”

“Oh! Maria!” Steve snapped his fingers. “Pepper’s boss! Wasn't her husband’s last name Stark?”

“Right, Howard Stark.” Bucky nodded and then looked back at Tony. “Small word huh? You having the same name as Pepper’s old boss? You know who Maria Carbonell is?”

“Well uh—“

“No, he wouldn’t, not unless he’s involved in the art community or that scholarship they just set up in Howard’s memory.” Steve decided. “The only reason we know is her through Pepper, I don’t think the Dame Carbonell hangs out with regular IT guys very much.”

“Who—?” Tony wet his lips, feeling wholly unsteady over hearing several names he hadn’t expected to all in a few sentences. “Who is Pepper?”

“Pepper Potts.” Bucky supplied absentmindedly, as if the words didn’t make Tony’s heart clench in his chest. “You’ll meet her tonight at the gala. She runs Mrs Carbonell’s art charity auctions and since we’re friends, we all have to show up and pretend to bid on horribly overpriced art we could never afford.”

“And Pep--” God, Tony could hardly say it. “Pepper works for Mrs. Carbonell? What did you say about Mrs. Carbonell’s husband?” 

“Howard Stark.” Steve confirmed. “Passed away a few years ago, there was big states funeral cos he’d built a bunch of children’s hospitals and came up with a new treatment for leukemia. Pretty big deal. He was a good guy and all of Maria’s money sure made it easy for him to change the world.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tony’s throat closed up and he makes a mental note to look up more about his parents— about the Carbonell-Starks— later when he could do it without wanting to cry. “That’s good, that’s-- yeah. That’s good. So this gala thing you’re going to...”

“Yeah, sorry about that, honey. Pepper books us all a table every year and it makes her look bad if we don’t go.” Steve spread his hands apologetically. “Otherwise we’d skip and stay home with you, I promise.”

“Oh I’ll be fine by myself.“ Despite his reassurance, it made Tony feel warm, safe and maybe even a little cherished to know the Doms would rather stay home with him. It was nice to think he mattered beyond what he could provide a team, beyond what he paid for. He hadn’t contributed a damn thing to Steve and Bucky’s existence so far except drama and they still wanted to stay home with him. 

“I’ll be fine.” he said again, and tried not to sound like he hated the idea. “I’ll probably just sleep.”

“You’ll come with us.” It wasn’t so much a suggestion as it was an order and even Steve looked briefly surprised at Bucky's tone. “We always have an extra seat in case Clint manages a date, but this year you’ll have it.”

“...Clint.” No way. “And who is Clint?” 

“You’ll meet everyone tonight.” Bucky shoved his keys into his coat pocket “But Clint’s the only other sub in our group of friends, so you two will get along fine. Stevie, take Tony shopping for new clothes, I think Pep said the theme was red and gold? Make sure you get the right colors.” 

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I love you.” Bucky pressed a long kiss to the other Dom’s mouth then squeezed at Tony’s hand. “I’ll see you both soon, I want you home before four thirty so we have time to get ready together.”

“Yes sir.” Tony said, and then, “Oh wait, I have money. I can buy my own things.” ...so long as the presidents are the same...? 

“We’ll buy your clothes.” Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“No seriously, I’m pretty sure I have enough to—“ Steve’s eyebrows about met his hairline when Tony started to argue and he nearly choked on the words as his throat closed up. 

Note to self, it’s basically biologically impossible to argue with my  a Dominant. 

Further note to self, I don’t want to argue with my Dom. 

“I mean, you don’t have to do that.” Tony tried again. “I have money and I don’t need a chaperone to shop. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” 

There, there’s a sentence he’d literally never said in his life.

“You’re no trouble ever, Tony. And we can afford to take care of you, so we will.” Damn Steve was Dominant and a thrill of pleasure raced down Tony’s spine. “And you don’t want to be alone, so I won’t leave your side.”

“Is it... obvious I don’t want to be alone?” By habit, Tony’s hand went to his hair to make sure it was in place, to his clothes to smooth them down. What had happened to his armor, to his persona, to his Tony Starkness?

 “Sugar, it’s all right there in your eyes for anyone who cares to look.” Bucky said quietly. “You need to be held, you don’t want to be alone, and you’re just about desperate for someone to take care of you. And anyone who misses out on what a pretty sub like you needs is a damn fool.”

Oh.

“We don’t plan on being a fool bout you, Tony.”

Oh there was his armor, crumbled in pieces on the floor along with the rest of his misgivings about this world.

“... yes sir.” Tony whispered faintly. “I-- yeah. You could take me shopping.” 

And Bucky only smiled over at Steve, then leaned in to kiss the beautiful sub gently gently. 

“Good boy.” 

************

************

Tony had made a point of not really walking next to Steve back in New York--er, back in his New York. It wasn’t that the super soldier had made him feel small, which was sort of true, or that that particular Steve had a way of talking that made you feel looked down on, which was also true, or even that Tony had some small man complex he couldn’t seem to overcome and Steve made it obvious. 

No, Tony had made a point of not getting too close to that Steve because even though Captain America had long been his hero, there’d been a part of him that always resented the bastard for swooping in and stealing all of Howard’s interest years before Tony had the chance to try for himself.

He’d never measured up to Steve in Howard’s eyes, never was the man Captain America had been, hadn’t shown the courage tiny Steve Rogers had showed by being willing to do everything for his country. 

Tony hadn’t ever measured up, and he’d been born already losing at a competition he’d never wanted and walking next to the Captain on the heli-carrier with his disapproving sighs and blatant irritation had brought all those feelings roaring back to the surface. 

Forty something years old and Howard still managed to make him feel like shit. 

But walking next to this Steve felt good. The big blond was so Dom-- and okay, the word was a little weird on Tony’s tongue but the more he thought it, the better it felt. Steve was so Dom that people parted when they walked down the sidewalk, the other submissives batted their eyes lashes and touched neutral white collars at their neck in an open flirt. 

In some cases, the bolder submissives touched royal blue collars which Tony quickly figured out meant they were contracted. And judging by the jealous and almost angry looks the ring wearing Dominants cast their way, the flirting submissives were carrying on right in front of their partner and... well yikes. 

But not all looks their way were angry, more than once a passing Dominant’s eyes slid to Tony’s neck and eyebrows raised over the lack his collar before an encouraging smirk tilted their lips. The third or fourth time it happened Steve simply cleared his throat and slipped an arm around Tony’s waist, met the next Dom’s eyes head on and tipped his head back in a clear challenge.

The Dom put a hand over his heart in what Tony could only figure was a show of respect, and moved right on. 

“I don’t mind them staring.” Tony said softly once it was just them again. “It’s weird that I don’t wear a collar, of course they would look. It’s fine.”

“Dominants know better than to leer at another Dom’s sub.” Steve answered lightly, but his grip at Tony’s side tightened. “Doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a collar or not. You’re at my side, they need to respect that.” 

And then after a moment, “Can’t say I blame ‘em though, I’d stare if a sub like you was walking around uncollared. Can’t help but hope.” 

Can’t help but hope. It was clear approval from the Dom, a compliment on Tony’s looks and apparently how good of a sub he was and Tony had to swallow the urge to practically purr, so he coughed and changed the subject. 

“So you and Bucky. Both Doms but contracted together.” 

“Why do you ask?” Steve steered Tony into a store that looked and felt and was designed like Macy’s but just wasn’t quite Macy’s. Parallel universes, amiright?

“Just cos sometimes you seem a little--” Tony searched for the right word so he wouldn’t offend the Dom unintentionally. “--I mean it seems like Bucky is a little more--” don’t say subby. “-- Are you a switch?” 

There, that was a word Tony remembered from his brief and less than satisfying foray into the Dom/sub scene back home. Switch. 

“Are you a switch?” he asked again. “Because the way you are with Bucky sometimes…” 

“In the most technical sense you could say I was a switch.” A firm hand at the small of Tony’s back had him turning towards the dress clothes. “But I’m all Dom, Tony. Even when I was tiny and scrappy, I was a Dom. Even years after contracting with Bucky. What I do with Bucky has nothing to do with my biology and everything to do with the ways we need each other sometimes.” 

“So…” Tony stopped when Steve did, and tapped at a shirt in his size so the Dominant could pick out an appropriate color. This wasn’t really new, Pepper had always picked out all his clothes so it wasn’t even a submissive thing to let Steve do the shopping, more of a fully bored with clothes thing. “So you are both Doms but you sub for him occasionally?” 

“When one of us needs it.” 

“Does Bucky ever need to sub?” 

“No.” Steve held up two shades of red and then tossed the lighter one aside. “He needs submission, some times I need to submit. Two different needs that we can fill for each other because we love each other. We complete each other.” 

“Huh.” Tony’s heart sank a little and he tried not to think about why. “So um--”

“You’re asking because you don’t see how you would fit into our lives.” Steve stated rather than guessed and Tony blinked at him in surprise. “You don’t see how a full submissive like you could compete with the bond Bucky and I already have, and if I’m willing to be submissive every once in a while, you don’t see why you’d be needed.” 

“Well I mean…” Tony let the words trail off into a helpless gesture. He had thought about how he would fit in with these two Dominants, how he’d fit into all the dynamics of this world, but Steve made it sound like he and Bucky had already decided Tony fit just fine. 

And that was-- that was nice but it was also a matter for maybe later cos right now all Tony could think about was his version of Steve and how tortured the Captain had seemed, how withdrawn and tense like he couldn’t even breathe. 

If his universe’s Steve and Bucky had been more like this Steve and Bucky and not Cap and Sarge like all the propaganda said, maybe that’s why Steve had seemed like he was grieving, why he was cold and distant. 

Bucky balanced him, saved him, gave him the freedom to just be Steve and then the Captain woke up and didn’t have anyone. 

Steve hadn’t had anyone and Tony had Rhodey and Pepper but he’d began pulling away from them too, losing himself in Iron Man and the spiraling reality he’d flung himself into and maybe that’s why Steve had picked up the shield again, maybe it was the same reason Tony had flown up and up into the wormhole and thought dying would be easy because after losing everything and feeling like your grasp on reality was slipping, maybe dying was the easiest thing to do.

Maybe Captain Rogers had picked up the shield hoping this time would be the last time.

“Easy easy.” Tony didn’t realize he’d gone sad and quiet until Steve was cupping his jaw and leaning in to press their foreheads together. “Settle down, sweetheart. Come back to me.” 

“I’m-- I’m here.” Tony grabbed on to Steve’s wrist and squeezed and the Dom breathed out a pleased sigh. “Sorry, I just--” 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Steve shook his head. “Just come back to me. Tell me what you were thinking.” 

“I was thinking--” about you. About Bucky. About my other life. About Pepper and Rhodey and how I’d been so willing to die because I knew everything would be fine without me. “I was thinking about how hindsight is twenty twenty and wishing I’d seen a few more things before it was too late and--” 

“Grandma Pegs always said that just cos hindsight is clear doesn’t mean we have to feel guilty about the things we didn’t see.” The Dom was so solid, and Tony leaned in further, let the blond take his weight. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling bad bout something? Not now baby, not when we’re havin’ fun together.” 

“No, no it’s just--” 

“Never mind, then.” There was a layer of steel in Steve’s voice that settled the issue, no room for argument, no need to explain and for once in his life Tony didn’t take the chance to argue, to insist on finishing his point. 

Written right in your eyes for anyone who cares to look, Bucky had said and maybe it meant that instead of seeing hesitancy as weakness like Howard had, like the press had, like Obadiah had, maybe Steve saw Tony’s hesitancy as uncertainty and a little bit of fear and a whole lot of regret. 

Never mind sounded like a brush off from someone that didn’t care but from Steve it sounded like a solution, like a relief, like forgiveness and like a rescue. 

Never mind. 

“Thank you.” Tony whispered and the Dominant smiled and dotted a kiss on his nose before pulling away again. 

“So you’ll meet Pepper and Clint tonight, and you’ll most likely get to meet Thor.” Steve changed the subject and Tony was grateful for it but then his mind skipped to uhhhh what demigod now?

“Thor?” he asked and incredibly, Steve motioned to a poster hanging in the men’s underwear section and yep, there was Thor. Big as life and damn near naked, hair in intricate braids to his waist and arms tattooed up in Nordic designs, an axe slung over his shoulders and a hammer sized bulge in his barely there briefs and...and… honestly what in the hell?

“Yeah, we met him at our gym and became friends.” Steve went back to picking out shirts for Tony. “But then someone took a picture of him working out and next thing we know he’s getting modeling contracts offered from a bunch of different companies and now I can’t even buy socks without having an almost naked Thor grinning at me.” 

“What-- how-- I--I--” Tony didn’t want to be gaping at the God of Thunder’s thighs but he also didn’t really want to stop. “You’re friends with him?” 

“You know, Bucky gives me hell when I look at Thor’s posters too long, wait till he hears you prefer your Dom’s lumberjack-y too.” Steve cracked a grin and for the first time in a very long time, Tony blushed scarlet clear to his ears. “I think you’ll have to settle for clean cut and All America with us, sweetheart. We don’t channel Viking God Wood Cutter quite as convincingly.” 

“It’s the hammer.” Tony said faux seriously. “It really emphasizes his um-- his personality.” 

“That’s what I tell Bucky!” Steve crowed and Tony laughed out loud and Steve laughed out loud and it was the first time Tony had laughed in so long he’d almost forgotten how good it felt. 

But then the Dom hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in with a murmured, “Pretty sub, your laugh is gorgeous.” and oh suddenly that was much better than just laughing. 

“I like your laugh too.” Tony admitted, realizing first that he’d never heard Captain America laugh, and second that Thor’s hammer was making him feel ridiculously subby for entirely un-Dom related reasons. “But we should move on before I consider going to dinner with Thor and not you and Buck.” 

“The hell you will.” Steve was still grinning but his eyes sparked possessively, and his hand slid down to clasp the back of Tony’s neck. “We aren’t letting you go, sweetheart. Not any time soon.” 

“Yes sir.” Tony breathed and the Dom left the softest possible kiss on his lips. 

“Good boy.” 

**************

**************

“This shirt looks great on you.” Bucky finished buttoning up his own dress shirt and then moved to finish doing up Tony’s too. It seemed so natural for the Dom to help that Tony didn’t even blink when Bucky pushed his hand away and threaded the buttons himself one handed. “I like the gold stripes baby doll, makes your eyes sparkle real pretty.” 

“Yeah, Steve said it was the best one.” Too focused on breathing in the Dom’s cologne and studying the fine lines in Bucky’s brow, Tony forgot to cover his chest and when Bucky’s breath caught sharp and stunned, he realized his mistake. 

“Oh wait--” he made a belated movement to cover the thin material of his undershirt and the scars showing beneath, but Bucky shook his head and raised his voice, “Steve? Stevie!” 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Tony had only a moment to internally laugh about how even this Steve preferred to wear red white and blue before the other Dom was in his space too as Bucky pulled Tony’s undershirt aside to show him the scars. “Sweetheart, what happened?” 

“I got hurt.” Tony waited for the old defensiveness to rise up bitter in his throat, the shame and embarrassment that followed anytime anyone got an inadvertent look at his chest. 

Sure without the arc reactor he didn’t look quite so alien but there was no denying he’d been torn apart and sloppily stitched back together. The scars were thick and still raised after a few years, scattering out across his sternum like shrapnel, centered ugly over his heart where the damage had been the worst.  

It was ugly and he waited to get defensive or want to curl up and hide but it-- it didn’t happen. Tony didn’t feel the need to run, or cover up or even explain because Steve wasn’t staring at the scars he was staring at Tony, searching his eyes for-- for something and apparently finding it because the big blond murmured hoarsely, “Oh no, honey. Oh, I’m so sorry.” 

“Damn sugar.” Bucky swallowed hard and held onto Tony’s shirt tight while Steve spread a careful hand over the scars. “Looks like someone broke your heart real bad, huh?” 

“...you could say that.” 

“Don’t worry.” the Dom finished softly,. “We’re never going to let that happen again. You’re safe with us. Promise.” 

“Okay.” Tony closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of Steve’s palm, stuttered through an uncertain breath when Bucky kissed his temple.“...okay.” 

****************

****************

“Bucky! Steve!” 

Somehow, Pepper was even more gorgeous in this universe, every inch as perfectly put together as always, hair like sunset and eyes like emeralds and a smile Tony hadn’t realized how much he missed until it was fully focused on him as Pepper gave him a quick once over. 

“My oh my, Clint will be thoroughly jealous you two managed to bring the prettiest date in the city!” Pepper touched the ring on her finger that marked her as Dominant-- honestly, no surprises there-- and then raised her eyebrows pointedly at Bucky and Steve. “Introduce me and allow me to say hello?” 

Tony had never heard Pepper ask for permission a day in her life, in fact lately it had seemed like he was the one asking permission for things and being told lovingly, exasperatedly, “No, Tony.”

He’d never heard her ask for permission and he expected it to sting like a bolt to the chest to see the woman he loved up close and in person in this place, to see her in a world where he didn’t exist and she was apparently thriving, stunning and smiling and Tony expected it to hurt. 

But it didn’t, because nothing about the last few days had hurt in the least, so when Bucky and Steve both wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him in, Tony only smiled and waited for the introduction of, “This is Tony and he is with us. Sweetheart, this is Pepper Potts.” 

“Tony.” Pepper didn’t reach to shake his hand or move to kiss his cheek like his Pepper had done so many times before. Instead she put her hand over her heart and dipped her head in acknowledgment, and since Tony had seen a collared submissive do the same as they’d walked through the doors, he inclined his head as well.

Steve turned into kiss his temple and murmured, “Good boy. Thank you.” while Bucky just smiled in approval and Tony tried not to flush from the praise.

“Lovely.” the pretty Dom decided, talking to Steve and Bucky again, though she sent a thoroughly smitten look Tony’s way. “Absolutely stunning in fact. What a darling submissive. Tony, if your Doms allow it, I’d very much like to sit near you at dinner, I think the two of us could be great friends.” 

“I think the two of us could be great friends too.” Tony echoed and Pepper’s smile stretched wide and gorgeous before she saw someone else she knew and with a quick wave, hurried away on those sky high heels.

“She’s nice.” the sub whispered thickly. “Have you known her long?”

“We used to be neighbors in the same apartment building.” Bucky explained as he pointed out their table. “Worked the same schedule so half the time we got home all together. She works with the art foundation so she spent some time at the university and since we were neighbors she made sure Steve’s department got extra money.” 

“She’s not usually this stiff either.” Steve pointed out. “Real rich folks tend to hold onto all the Old World dynamics like not talking to subs and being formal with Doms and even though we attend this stuff every year, it still weirds me out.”  

“Once she gets to the table with everyone, she’ll settle down though.” Bucky pulled out Tony’s chair and motioned for the sub to sit, then pulled out a chair for Steve too. “The menu is set for tonight but I’ll get you both drinks. Tony, water to start and then you can have whatever you’d like.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Water was a good choice, because Tony would have actually died inhaling straight whiskey when Thor showed up at their table complete with booming voice and eyes that still flashed like lightning and a suit that cost at least three thousand dollars stretched across impossibly wide shoulders. 

And then there was Natasha, as wicked and mysterious as always in a dress more leather than cloth, the ring on her finger carved into a black widow’s hour glass. In this place she ran both a club for Dom’s looking for a night of anonymous release, and a safe haven for submissives who needed a place to stay and judging by the looks she got from both Doms and subs alike as she crossed the room, the redhead was well known for it too.

“We’re pretty sure she’s killed bad Dom’s before.” Steve muttered under his breath while Tony tried hard not to stare as the intimidating Dominant burst out laughing at whatever Thor said. “They come to her club, next thing we know a submissive is at a safe house and a Dominant with a history of abuse has gone missing.” 

“No one does anything about it?” Tony whispered and the Dom whispered back, “Would you?” 

Tony shook his head and Bucky picked up his hand to kiss his knuckles, and the conversation moved on. 

Clint was a submissive, hilarious and sweet, blond and gorgeous and came running around the table and dodged Steve and Bucky to shove a kiss right onto Tony’s lips, bending down from a shocking height of nearly six foot four and then laughing when Tony tapped curiously at the polka dot band-aid at his nose. 

“Yeah, I’m not one of those pretty, graceful submissives like you are.” Clint shook his hand animatedly. “I walked into a door at Tasha’s the other day, she needs to stop making things to her height, damn Dom is practically an elf.” 

Natasha laughed and then snapped her fingers and Clint dropped into the seat right next to her, clearly happy with the woman he’d chosen as his, and Tony couldn’t help cataloging all the behaviors, all the same patterns and jokes and the way this Natasha and Clint acted like his Natasha and Clint and hindsight--were his two in love too? 

Bruce Banner looked all the same, but he had to stop and sign autographs as he crossed the ball room and once again Tony was grateful for water when Bucky casually mentioned, “Doc has got something crazy like seven Ph.D’s but on the weekends he does that theatrical wrestling, you know? You ever heard of Doctor Hulk? That’s him when he’s not in the ring.” 

“Doctor Bruce Banner wears tights and unitards and does scripted TV Wrestling on the weekends.” the sub said doubtfully. “Really?” 

“Doctor Hulk!” someone called and Bruce turned and flexed, growled “Hulk Smash!” and that corner of the room erupted into laughter. 

“Oh my god.” 

But then there was Rhodey, and real tears came to Tony’s eyes when Steve introduced him as “Colonel James Rhodes, formerly of the United States Air Force, currently one of the top stunt pilots in the world and clearly the snappiest dresser among us.” 

“Yeah yeah, shut the hell up.” The Colonel set down a flamboyantly decorate helmet, then raised his arms to show off his obnoxiously patriotic uniform. “I had to fly here from Vegas after a show and since Pep’s already gonna have my head for not wearing the color theme, maybe you don’t test my patience, Stevie.” 

{Rhodey’s outfit, Courtesy of Oceans 13 ‘Basher’ because I just couldn’t help myself}

“Aw c’mon Rhodes.” Bucky leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I think those leather pants look right nice on you.” 

“Better on my ass than yours, Bronco.” James shot back, and then with a look towards Tony, “Well well. This one looks like trouble.” 

“You don’t even know me!” Tony protested past the lump in his throat and the Dom retorted teasingly, “Yeah but you’re sitting between these two! Trouble!” 

Everyone jeered and hollered and joined in on the ribbing and Tony sat back and let it all wash over him. 

He’d never had this, never had so much fun with the group of people called the Avengers. He had never hurt himself laughing over Clint’s jokes or seen Pepper blush the way she did when Natasha accused James of stealing the pants from Pepper’s closet, and when Tony slipped up and called the Colonel Rhodey, Thor slammed his whiskey glass downed and boomed, “He shall be called Rhodey!” 

The evening was noisy and the evening was fun and Tony’s mouth hurt from grinning, his eyes hurt from blinking back tears every time Rhodey got snarky and Pepper sighed in exasperation, and every time Steve or Bucky leaned in to whisper in his ear Tony let himself slip a little closer to their sides until he was surrounded by warmth. 

“Are you alright, sweet thing?” Bucky asked when the final course was cleared and dessert showed up at their table. “I know this group can be a lot, and it’s been a tough few days for you.” 

“No.” Tony whispered. “No, this is fine, this is fine, I’m okay.” 

And it was okay, because everything about this evening was amazing. 

This was Tony’s entire world right here at the table. Things were a little different sure, but all the best parts were here and more importantly, all the best parts of his entire world were smiling and talking and teasing each other and teasing him. The world wasn’t ending via wormhole and aliens and Pepper wasn’t crying because of Tony again, Rhodey was trading stunt pilot stories with Clint who was apparently circus-y in this world and Thor was tossing back shots with Natasha and Bucky and Steve...

...well Steve’s hand never left Tony’s thigh, rubbing warm and solid circles just firm enough to let him know he was there. And Bucky wove his fingers into Tony’s hair then let his palm rest heavy at the base of Tony’s neck and the sub didn’t even have to think for a second about dropping his head back and closing his eyes. 

Tony missed the knowing looks around the table when Steve pressed a kiss to his pulse point, he missed the way Pepper smiled in approval when Bucky bent close to whisper how good Tony was being in a hushed sort of tone meant for lovers, meant for partners, meant for Doms and subs.

”You wanna go home, sweet thing?” Bucky murmured and Tony shook his head. 

“Not yet.” he covered Steve’s hand with his own where it rested on his leg. “No this is fun, I don’t want to leave yet.” 

“We’ll stay as long as you want.” the other Dom decided. “So long as you’re happy, honey.” 

“I’m happy.” Tony looked around the table again, lingering on Clint’s blond hair and Bruce’s sort of hilariously high pitched laugh now that he was four drinks in. “Yeah. This is good. I don’t want to leave.” 

Bucky kissed his cheek and went back to talking with Thor, Steve signaled for another round of drinks and moved to wind his arm around Tony’s waist and Tony sat there and drank it all in...

...and kept thinking if he could design heaven, maybe it would look an awful lot like this right here.

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#ncts fics #stuckony #stucky #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dom/sub

[chalantness]

fic: Here, On the Edge of Hell (3/6)

Rating: M Word Count: ~9,300 (part three) Characters: Steve/Natasha Summary: mafia au. She knows her father hadn’t been lying when he said that Uncle Howard wanted her to keep an eye on Steve, but if this was simply about protection, he wouldn’t have put her on the line at all. Especially not with all of the heat Steve Rogers is getting from the other Families, which means that her uncle has another reason for Natasha to be involved.

He just won’t tell her what it is. 

Read On: [ ao3 ]

A/N: Okay, here's a confession: I kept changing the end of this chapter and then just ended up taking that scene out entirely because it got super long and I felt like it was... too much? This may or may not bump the chapter count up to 7 but for now there are still only 6 parts, so let's celebrate for being (technically) halfway through this 'verse! I'll try my hardest to keep it down to only 3 more chapters, though, so the last three parts might just be super long. I hope you darlings won't hate that!

Natasha seems distracted, but considering everything that happened yesterday, he figures she’s got a few good reasons to be. He asked if she wanted to talk about it when she first got to his place, but she’d given him this coy little smile and asked, “Talk about what?” and he’d simply chuckled and taken it as his cue to leave it, at least for now. She must’ve spent the entire day sorting things out at the club with Howard; if she wants to take her mind off of it, if only for a few hours, then he can give that to her. He wants to give that to her, and honestly, the little smile she’s giving him right now, with her eyes twinkling and her cheeks slightly flushed from the wine, is entirely worth it.

“I ran into your sister this morning,” she tells him, passing over her empty glass when he holds a hand out for it. “She had interesting company.”

Steve breathes out a laugh, pouring her more wine (they’re both on their fourth glass) before handing it back. “Her interesting company invited us to breakfast tomorrow, by the way,” he says, and Natasha raises her eyebrows, her eyes sparkling in pleasant surprise. “Yeah, I know,” he says with a shake of his head, filling his own glass and then setting the bottle back down on the coffee table. “Technically, he said he and Sam wanted you there, and Wanda followed up by saying that she convinced Pietro to join us.”

Natasha laughs, her voice slightly raspy from all the wine. Steve feels his lips curve in response to the sound and he glances at her lips, but only for a second.

“Now that is a conversation I would’ve loved to see.”

Steve exhales a chuckle. “I think they’re all just doing it to make some sort of statement. I overheard Clint advising Pietro to play nice, establish a united front for my sake.”

Even as he says the words, though, he knows they’re not quite right, and the little grin Natasha gets is all the reassurance he needs. “They’re doing it for you, Steve,” she corrects, her voice lilting in amusement. “If this was just about making a statement, there are a dozen other ways they could’ve done that without throwing more fuel on the fire by taking two detectives to lunch. Although,” she adds with a tilt of her head, “I have no doubt that Pietro will insist otherwise until he warms up to Bucky and Sam.”

Steve feels himself smirk. Yeah, he doesn’t doubt that, either. His brother is stubborn as hell and not the type to like anyone at first.

That doesn’t mean that he immediately dislikes anyone, though. He’s simply wary, and maybe that’s because, when he does decide to trust you, he’s almost loyal to a fault.

He’d told Steve last night that he’d been following the Asgards around ever since the drive-by, and Steve knew that wasn’t just another impulse of his. Pietro could be a little reactive sometimes, that’s for damn sure, but something like this – accusing another member of the Family – is something he wouldn’t have taken lightly. Wanda thinking that she saw the car would’ve only been enough to raise suspicion, but it’d been Bucky vouching for his fellow officer identifying the car, too, that convinced Pietro it was a lead worth looking into. Maybe he doesn’t trust Bucky, but he trusts Steve, and that was enough for him to consider Bucky’s hunch about the drive-by being intended for Wanda.

(And Steve knew he didn’t need to remind Pietro to be careful, but he’d said it, anyway, and his brother hadn’t even rolled his eyes or quipped about him being overprotective.

They both know how dangerous things will get quickly if anyone finds out what Pietro is doing, let alone what they might be accusing the Asgards of.)

“Speaking of the twins,” Natasha adds after a moment, her voice softer now, some of the amusement fading from her expression when Steve looks at her. “They didn’t want to be here for this?”

Steve doesn’t need to ask what she means. This, as in finally opening the damn box on the table that they’d found in his mother’s old apartment.

It hadn’t been his only reason for inviting her over tonight; in fact, he never even mentioned in when they made the plans. He’d genuinely wanted to see her, to check on her after everything that happened yesterday, but he also knows she would want to be there to open it with him and honestly? He didn’t even consider doing so without her.

“I told them it was their choice, but that I also didn’t want to put them through it in case it was something shitty,” Steve tells her.

“Willing to carry that burden all on your own, huh?”

He shrugs, staring down into his wine glass. “Something like that, I guess. The two of them have been through a hell of a lot more than I ever have.”

“And you want to, what? Pay your dues?” She gives him a look. “That’s not how family works, Steve.”

He chuckles faintly. “No, I know. It’s not that. I guess—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, turning to her with a wry sort of smile. “I know I’m the helpless one out of the three of us, but I guess I just want to protect them if I can. They were the ones that were raised by Dad. If something shitty about him is in that box…”

He trails off, stopping his own thoughts again, but he knows by the look in her eyes that Natasha doesn’t need him finish his sentence.

He knows that there could be nothing important in this box, or if there is, it could be something Pietro and Wanda have already known. It’s not as if he plans on keeping it a secret from them, either. He doesn’t even know why it feels important for him to see it first, but it does, and his siblings trust his judgment.

Natasha gives him this little smile. “You’re a good brother,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper before she takes a small sip of her wine. This time, she’s watching as his eyes shift down to her lips again, and he lets his gaze linger for a moment before turning away, smiling into his own glass. “So, shall we get this show on the road?”

“Might as well,” he murmurs, taking a gulp of wine before setting it aside.

Considering how old the metal box must be, it doesn’t surprise Steve that it only takes a few tries to get it open. That should’ve been his first clue that there might not be anything incriminating in here. There may not have been as many ways to keep things locked up back then, and it’s not as if this box was somewhere easy to find, but still. Going through the offices and coming up empty had shown Steve just how careful a man his dad was, so he wouldn’t have left anything important just sitting in this thing.

And Steve thinks he’s right, for the most part. The box is slim and rather small, so there’s nothing more than a few photos and folded pieces of paper inside.

Sketches, he realizes, when he unfolds the one sitting on top. The penciled scene looks vaguely of a grand building in an open field with a mountain range along the horizon, and there’s something about the architecture that seems like it should make it seem distinct, but the lines are too rough to really tell.

The rest of the sketches are more of the same – a few snowy landscapes, more mountain ranges and more buildings with unique silhouettes – so Steve sets them aside and picks up the small stack of photographs instead, flipping them over to find his mother’s face smiling back at him. She’s younger here, her hair brighter and longer and half-covering her face as it’s angled away from the camera, and the color from the photo is faded from years of sitting, but Steve knows without a doubt that this is his mother.

“She’s beautiful,” Natasha says quietly, her leg pressing against his as she leans in. “You have her smile.”

Steve feels his chest squeeze as he exhales a laugh. He’s heard that before, but even now, he doesn’t quite understand it. He knows he looks almost exactly like his father and that he always has, but he’s also always been told that he has his mother’s smile, too.

“Dad says that all the time,” he tells her, handing over the photo for her to take a closer look, and he watches as she gently traces it with her fingertip. “I don’t really see it.”

“I do,” she replies simply, her eyes flickering to his. “Trust me, you look just like her.”

“Okay.” His chest squeezes again, and he holds her stare for a moment longer before exhaling a breath, turning back to the small stack of photographs in his hand.

There are a few more of just his mother, a few of his parents together and then a few of them with Steve, but that’s it, so he sets them aside with his father’s sketches and picks up the worn leather journal, flipping it open. At first glance, it actually looks more like his mother’s swirling handwriting than his father’s, but before Steve can actually read anything, something slips out from between the pages. He picks it up from his lap, flipping it over, and then his heart slams against his ribcage at the face he sees.

Melina.

Steve has only ever seen her face in photos a few times and only once in person, and she’s much younger in this photo, but he knows it’s her—and he can tell by the way Natasha inhales sharply beside him, her entire body going completely still, that she knows it, too.

He recognizes his father standing next to Melina, his face much younger, just like hers, but it’s without a doubt Joseph Rogers. There’s another man and another woman with them, too, the four of them all right around the same age, not even into their teens yet. The other woman has light, long hair and a sweet, smiling face that seems vaguely familiar, at least at first glance. She has both of her arms curled around Melina, her body half-angled toward hers with the embrace, and the photograph seemed to have caught the two of them in the midst of a laugh. On the woman’s other side is a man that’s tall and broad, his figure imposing and his expression gruff, even in his young age. Unlike the other woman, though, there’s nothing about this man that stands out to Steve, nothing about him that feels as if he’s seen his face before, maybe even in passing.

Then again, maybe he didn’t really recognize the woman at all. Maybe it’s simply the fact that he does recognize his father and Natasha’s mother that’s throwing him off.

Never, not once, had his father mentioned having any kind of relationship with Melina Stark. Not one that came from childhood, at least.

His father is close to the Starks as a family, of course, but he’d always been closest with Howard. And not even Howard has mentioned anything in particular to Steve. If his father had known Melina for so long, Howard Stark would’ve brought it up. Even if he already assumed Steve knew it already, the man would’ve worked it into at least one conversation, especially since Howard knew Steve would be spending even more time with Melina’s daughter—except, fuck, could that have been the reason for it all along?

Steve could never quite put a finger on why Howard offered his niece up as another advisor for Steve, and even Natasha admitted it didn’t quite make sense, either.

But maybe the idea hadn’t actually come from him. Maybe it’d come from Melina.

“What the fuck is this?” Natasha breathes, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she reaches for the photo, which Steve passes over to her before smoothing one of his hands over her back, gently circling. He watches her as she stares at the photo, the shock so crystal clear in her expression that it makes his heartbeat falter in his chest. Her eyes are a little bit wild as they snap onto his. “Why is my mother in this photo with Joseph?” she asks, though he knows she isn’t asking him, specifically. “What am I looking at?”

To anyone else, her surprise almost seems tamed, but Steve knows better.

She may not be overreacting, but the fact that he can feel her trembling and that he can see the genuine surprise on her face means she isn’t trying to filter her reaction, or maybe she simply can’t in this moment. But whether that’s because of all of the wine or because she trusts him, or both, is a matter for Steve to address another night.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. He doesn’t quite kiss her temple, but his lips brush against it when she leans into him.

She exhales, her gaze fixing back on the photo for another moment before picking up the journal it had fallen from. Steve knows this is his mother’s handwriting, and as he skims over her words while Natasha flips through the pages, it’s clear that this is more of a diary than anything else. Half of the pages are empty, and there’d been nothing other than this one photograph tucked inside of it. He’s not sure why a picture of Natasha’s mother and his father would be in his mother’s journal of all places, especially since it’s from before his parents had even met—but, as Natasha flips to the last page that’s been written on, it’s clear they’re not going to get any kind of explanation for it, either.

She lets the journal fall closed as she places it back down in his lap, and then she’s standing, the photo in her hand as she starts to step around the coffee table.

Steve is up in the next second, gently but firmly grasping her by her arm, just above her elbow, and turning her back around to face him. He can practically see the thoughts flitting in her eyes as she murmurs, “I have to go.”

“Nat, no,” he argues. “We’ve both been drinking. A lot, might I add. You’re in no condition to drive home, and you’re not getting into a cab, either.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insists, about to turn around again, but he grasps her other arm, too, pulling her against him. He feels her struggle against his grip, but he also knows it’s only half-hearted. If Natasha wanted him off of her, he would’ve been flat on his ass right now.

“Someone purposefully put a car through the club you manage.” He feels his eyebrows furrow as he gives her a hard look. “You’re not getting in a fucking cab. And I know you’re not going to storm over to your mother right now and demand answers. Even half-drunk on wine, I know you’re a hell of a lot more strategic than that.”

She pulls back a little at his words, a reluctant flash of indignation – and also amusement – in her eyes. “I’m not half-drunk.”

He cracks a smile. “We went through an entire bottle of wine in an hour. You’re not half-sober, either.”

“I’ll be fine,” she repeats, though there’s less force behind her words this time. It’s not in defeat, he can tell, but she’s also stopped squirming against his hold. She shakes her head, not so much as flinching when he brings a hand up to cup her cheek, as if he’s touched her like this a dozen times. “I just need to think.”

“Then think here,” he tells her, almost pleading. She tilts her head up to look at him. “This was a big revelation for me, too, you know. Maybe I need you here to comfort me.”

Despite herself, Natasha breathes out a chuckle, rolling her eyes playfully. “Is that really the move you’re going with?”

“Is it working?” he asks, and she chuckles again, more of the tension ebbing from her body as she leans into him. “You can borrow something to sleep in, take Wanda’s room if you want. Hell, take my room and I’ll sleep in Pietro’s.” Natasha’s lips quirk and Steve feels his own smile widen a little in return. “I’ll get in a cab with you and make sure you get home if you really want to. But if all you’re going to do is worry about this alone in your apartment then you might as well worry about it here, with me in the other room.”

“In case you need comforting?” Her tone is mostly teasing, but there’s something about it that tells Steve that she knows what he really means, too.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down her arm to gently grasp onto the photograph, and she lets him take it from her hand, twist around to set it on top of the coffee table behind him.

Her expression softens when he turns back to look at her. “Okay,” she says, barely above a whisper. He strokes her jaw again with the hand still cupping her cheek, his thumb only an inch away from the corner of her lips, and then he pulls away.

... ...

Natasha can’t remember the last time she slept in. She’s always gotten up early to take a run, even when she was younger; a habit she picked up from running with her father almost every morning, and one she continued even when she no longer in school and didn’t need to keep up some kind of schedule. But she likes having the routine, and she’s gotten so used to it that somehow, she knows before she’s even opened her eyes that she’s slept in, though a quick glance at her phone tells her it’d barely been by an hour.

There’s also a text from Maria that she’d sent last night. Honestly, Natasha had almost forgotten that she texted her at all, and after the revelation from that damn photograph, seeing Sarah Rogers’s signature on a receipt at the café seemed like something that happened days ago rather than just that morning.

And yes, she’d still contemplated telling Steve about it, even though she and Maria agreed it would be best just to leave it, at least for now. Sarah Rogers isn’t exactly an uncommon name, and considering the woman had gotten sick and passed away after Steve graduated high school—something Joseph told the Family himself when he and the twins attended her funeral—it seemed unnecessary bring up something that could be a coincidence. But that didn’t get rid of the feeling that she should’ve told him anyway.

It feels a little less important to bring up after last night, though.

She walks out into the hallway just as the door opposite of her room (well, Wanda’s room) opens, and Steve steps out in nothing but a pair of jeans, a towel draped around his neck as he uses it to rub at his damp hair. He pauses when he sees her, his mouth hitching up at one corner in a crooked, almost boyish sort of grin.

“Good morning,” he greets, and, to his credit, his eyes stay on her face rather than skim down to the tank top and tiny pajama shorts she’d borrowed from Wanda’s closet.

“Good morning,” she echoes, her lips tugging in a smile as her eyes flit over his bared chest. “If that’s how you plan on going to breakfast, it’ll probably end up being free.”

He breathes out a laugh. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure when you’d be awake,” he replies, glancing down at his own torso for a moment before his gaze is back on hers, his thumb pointed over his shoulder. “The shower in my bathroom still needs to be looked at, so I just keep using this one.”

“No need to apologize.” Her smile widens, just a little. “This is your place, after all.”

He presses his lips together, eyes glinting like he knows that she’s teasing—like he knows what she really means—and, since he doesn’t seem the least bit self-conscious, she lets her gaze fall back onto his chest. Now that she’s really looking, though, she can see them: thin, jagged lines scattered across his chest, all of them almost entirely faded into his complexion. But they’re there, and there are a few dozen of them, and Natasha is willing to bet that she’d find a few dozen more on his back if she asked him to turn.

Scars. He’s covered in scars.

“Steve,” she exhales, glancing up into his eyes, the amusement and teasing faded entirely from his face as he simply peers down at her. She reaches up, touching her fingertips to a particularly harsh line curling under his ribcage, and she feels rather than hears the way he takes a deep breath.

“I told you I was a scrawny kid,” he reminds gently, pulling the towel out from around his neck, revealing a few more slivers there, too. “Scrawny is easy to kick around.”

“This isn’t kicking around,” she argues, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did either of your parents know?”

She already has an idea of what the answer will be, so no, she’s not surprised when Steve shakes his head. “Mom always had a lot on her plate and I didn’t want to add another thing for her to worry about. By the time I met Dad, I only had a few months left until graduation.” He gives a small shrug. “It didn’t seem worth mentioning by then.”

Natasha’s chest tightens. “It could be decades from now and it would still be worth it to Joseph.”

“It wasn’t worth it to me, Nat.” He reaches up, covering her hand with his where it’s still pressed against his chest. “Dad would’ve done worse to them in return.”

She feels a little bit like she can’t breathe, and her voice comes out quiet and tight as she asks, “You don’t think they deserve it?”

Steve’s mouth hitches in a smirk, something dark flickering in his eyes—and, in that fleeting moment, he looks so much like his father that Natasha nearly shivers.

“I think they deserved worse than what my dad would’ve done with them,” he admits quietly, curling his fingers around hers in a gentle, almost comforting sort of squeeze. “But I’d made a promise to myself to fight my own battles, always. It just so happened that by the time I was capable of truly fighting back, I hadn’t seen them for a while. I wasn’t going to waste energy on seeking them out, but if we crossed paths again, I’d make sure that they couldn’t kick anyone else around. That time just hasn’t come yet.”

Yet.

His tone is casual, almost nonchalant, but she can hear the gravity of his threat in that one word.

And, not for the first time, Natasha thinks that maybe Steve Rogers is a lot more adept at this life than he realizes.

... ...

Steve honestly didn’t know what he anticipated when he and Natasha first got to the restaurant. There were a few dozen reasons for this to be a tense breakfast, or at least an awkward one, but he also didn’t think it would come to that. If any of them genuinely felt uncomfortable, they just wouldn’t have come.

But at this point, none of them are exactly on opposite sides, even if that’s still the case on paper. Bucky and Sam have been working their asses off to figure out who’d been behind the drive-by, and whether that’s because it’s their job as detectives or that’s because of their loyalty to Steve doesn’t really matter. They’re doing what they can to look out for Wanda, and Bucky has been trading off with Pietro and Clint to watch over her, which is more than enough of a reason for Pietro to give them the benefit of the doubt.

So, no, maybe Steve hadn’t expected all of them to argue the entire time.

But he hadn’t expected everyone to get along so damn well, either.

“Hardly even recognized him,” Bucky says through a laugh as he gestures a hand at where Steve is sitting across the table from him. Steve chuckles as he shakes his head. “He leaves for college and comes back, what? Almost a whole foot taller? With over a hundred extra pounds of pure muscle?”

“You know, I still thought maybe Dad had those photos of you when you were younger mixed up with some other poor sap.” Pietro grins, reaching behind Wanda to smack a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I didn’t realize student research projects allowed volunteers to be genetically modified,” he jokes, and Steve barks out a laugh, giving Pietro a half-hearted shove. Between them, Wanda shoots them both a warning look, though the way she giggles into her mimosa a moment later tells them she’s not actually pissed.

“I thought for damn sure I’d hear about him getting into more fights now that he could do some real damage,” Bucky adds. “Of course, only Steve would decide to stay out of trouble after he was able to throw a decent punch.”

Wanda’s eyes widen as she whirls her gaze onto her brother. “You got into fights?”

“Couldn’t keep the little punk out of them,” Bucky answers for Steve. “Granted, he never started any, and he never threw the first hit. But Steve wasn’t about to let the fact that he was less than a hundred pounds and sent himself into an asthma attack half the time stop him from fighting back.”

His tone is proud more than anything else, even though Steve can hear the hint of exasperation. Steve can’t exactly blame the guy. It seemed like Bucky was always jumping in to save his ass, though the guy hardly minded. If anything, he probably enjoyed putting those kids in their place. He just preferred Steve not to take the brunt of it first.

“I don’t like bullies,” Steve says simply with a shrug, glancing at Natasha beside him. She gives him an almost carefree sort of smile, but her eyes flash in the same way they did just an hour ago, as she traced over his scars with her fingertip—somehow burning bright and ice cold at the same time. He can almost see the calculation in her gaze, as if she plans on hunting down each and every asshole to lay a hand on Steve (he doesn’t doubt she has the means to, either) but he can also see something else. Pride, maybe. Back at his place, it’d almost look like there was awe in her eyes when he’d explained why he hadn’t sought out any sort of revenge against anyone that ever gave him a scar.

Seeing that praise in her eyes had felt damn good, but feeling her gentle, feather-light touch on his skin had felt even better.

Now’s not exactly the time to relive the memory, though. Not with his siblings and his best friends at the table.

She takes a sip of her mimosa as she holds his stare, that dangerous flash in her eyes shifting into amusement as she hides her smirk behind the rim of her glass.

He nudges her knee with his under the table, returning her smirk, but a groan from Pietro interrupts them, drawing their gaze onto his scowling face. “Speaking of bullies,” he mutters, and Steve follows his brother’s gaze across the street, feeling his body tense as he realizes who’s caught his brother’s attention.

Ivan.

Steve clenches his jaw. He’d heard of Ivan before they’d met, of course. Clint never had a single decent thing to say about him and Anton, and considering how mellow the guy usually is, that’d been one hell of an insight that just talking about those two seemed to piss Clint off. Evidently, that still hadn’t been a clear enough picture of them.

He couldn’t have cared less that Anton and Ivan clearly had it out for him and blatantly tried to provoke him into a fight the entire time he’d been with the Starks at Howard’s. What he did care about, though, is the way they eyed Natasha while also completely dismissing the danger she would’ve been in had she been at the club when it’d been hit. Clint had told Steve that Howard put up with them out of some sort of loyalty; Anton had been a key player in getting Stark Industries off of the ground, after all. But none of the Starks had ever liked him (apparently, half of the Family still doesn’t) and Steve had only been in their presence for five minutes before deciding he shared that sentiment.

“He seems like the kind of guy you’d want to hit for no real reason,” Sam comments.

“He is,” Wanda chimes in, turning away from Ivan and wrinkling her nose at her mimosa. “He may not even breathe in your direction, but if you threw the punch first, you’d still have plenty of reasons to justify it.”

“That bad?” Bucky’s voice is gruff. “Kind of sounds like you might be speaking from experience.” His eyes flit back to Ivan across the street, jaw ticking, and Steve is willing to bet his best friend is genuinely contemplating if it could be justified to punch the guy without being provoked.

But when Wanda huffs out a breath, his gaze shifts back to her, softening. “No, thankfully not,” she reassures. “But it’s hard not to know his business with the way he acts.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Bucky mutters into his coffee with a shake of his head. “Ivan’s got more hard evidence against him than anyone else in New York.”

“He’s sloppy and reckless,” Natasha agrees. “He doesn’t give a damn about casualties, and he sure as hell doesn’t give a damn about leaving his mark, either.” She rolls her eyes. “He likes notoriety for his ego, and he loves that every cop in the city knows his face.”

“Isn’t that a thing, though?” Sam wonders. “A way of sending a message?”

“Our messages are far more discreet,” Natasha tells him. “If you don’t know how to cover your own ass, you sure as hell shouldn’t be threatening someone else’s.”

Sam’s lips twitch in a grin. “Sounds fair.”

“You also shouldn’t be putting anyone else’s ass on the line just for the hell of it,” Pietro adds, almost scowling. “He used to just be dick and a mild headache, but now he’s getting stupid and has the rest of us putting out all of his damn fires. I don’t know why the hell he’s still in the picture at all,” he adds to Natasha, arching an eyebrow.

“Trust me, neither do I,” she replies, and then tips her head back, draining the last of her mimosa. “He’s got a reputation.”

“Don’t you all?” Sam’s tone is more joking than condescending, if a little curious.

“Yes,” Wanda replies with a bit of a giggle. “It’s different, though.”

Bucky’s smile widens as Sam chuckles in amusement, neither of them arguing with her claim, and it makes something warm tug at Steve’s chest.

Just a few weeks ago, Steve had almost used those very words as he struggled to explain to his best friends why he couldn’t just use his new role in the Family to turn them in. They’re still criminals, after all, and Steve had been convinced that he would’ve done exactly that if it wouldn’t have meant putting his brother and sister on the line as well. Now? He knows he couldn’t do it so easily. Honestly, he couldn’t do it at all, because he’s not just Family in name and not just in their eyes. He’s Family in his own eyes, too.

He doesn’t want to walk away from them.

He doesn’t want to walk away from Bucky and Sam, either, but he isn’t going to pretend it’s that simple for them. For right now, though, he can appreciate that his siblings and his best friends finally seem to be getting along—and not just for his sake anymore, but because they want to.

... ...

“You’d be surprised how many ‘Sarah Rogers’ are in New York,” Maria says, pulling out a stapled stack of papers from her bag and tossing it onto the counter. Natasha glances at the photo of the woman on the top page (a brunette, though, not a blonde) before passing over one of the martinis she’d poured, and Maria takes it from her by the stem of the glass. “But only five of them showed any activity in Manhattan around the time you would’ve seen her at the coffeehouse. Of those five,” she goes on, sipping her cocktail as she flips to the page she wants, pointing her finger at the picture, “this one is the only one to match the barista’s description.” Maria arches an eyebrow. “Look familiar?”

Natasha hums, taking a moment to study the young woman, with her long, golden hair and hazel eyes.

“Vaguely,” she admits, which doesn’t really mean much. Maria already knows Natasha hadn’t gotten a good look at the woman’s face that morning in the coffeehouse with Wanda, and considering how many faces the employees there must see every hour, asking the barista for a description two days after can only be so reliable.

“She flew into town a few weeks ago but never checked in anywhere,” Maria informs, but something in her tone catches Natasha’s attention.

“And?” she prompts.

Maria smirks, her eyes glinting. “And that purchase at the coffeehouse is the only purchase ever made on her card, other than her one-way plane ticket from London.”

Natasha can’t quite help the way her eyebrows lift in surprise. Well. That’s definitely unusual.

She knows Maria has been digging deeper into this woman, and Maria doesn’t wait for her to ask before she continues with, “So far I’ve only caught a few security camera sightings of her around Manhattan and Brooklyn. She’s been alone every time and she’s damn easy to lose track of.”

“Staying somewhere residential, or at least somewhere that doesn’t keep a digital record,” Natasha adds. “And only paying in cash, except for the coffeehouse.”

“Except the coffeehouse,” Maria echoes, arching an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe she can get away with almost an entire month of never using her credit card and yet, she charges eight dollars for a latte and a croissant? She didn’t even pull it out to pay for her rental car.”

“She’s using a rental car?”

Maria nods. “I saw her getting into a car from a security camera and the license plate is registered with a car service, but her paperwork didn’t disclose any payment.”

Natasha feels something odd tug at her chest as she stares back at Maria. “A black compact car?” Natasha asks after a moment.

Maria pulls back a little, blinking. “How did you know that?”

Natasha exhales a sigh, taking a gulp of her martini before answering with, “Because there’s been a black compact parking across the street for the last three weeks that keeps catching my attention. Any chance you happened to see one on your way in?”

“Most likely, but I’ll have a look at the security feeds later to compare plates.” Maria tilts her head. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“It seemed a little paranoid, even for me,” Natasha admits with a shake of her head. “Plus, my family has been on edge even before what happened at the club that I didn’t want to give them another reason to act weird.” She furrows her eyebrows, thinking back to when she’d had dinner with Peter, and when she’d had dinner with Tony. She thinks about how her parents seemed to be bothered by something more often than not recently, and somehow, all of it feels less and less like some kind of a coincidence.

Maria nods, and Natasha can practically see it in her eyes as her best friend tries to find any kind of immediate connection.

Before either of them can say anything more, however, Natasha’s phone chimes with a text and she flips it over on the counter, her body pausing as she sees that the message is from an unknown number. Maria leans forward to look at the screen, too, and Natasha sets her martini down as she swipes to open the text.

... ...

Steve can hear her laughter above all of the excitement and chatter already filling the restaurant where Clint and Laura are hosting Baby Nathaniel’s first birthday—and, not for the first time since arriving, his gaze drifts across the room to seek her out. They’ve only had a chance to talk a few minutes here and there, but considering it’s usually one of the kids that ends up pulling her away from him, he can’t complain. It’s easy to see that she’s the favorite, although Peter and Pietro seem to be fairly close in second place.

“Auntie Nat has always been the one the kids adore the most,” Wanda chimes as she floats up to his side, offering him a limoncello and rum cocktail. “Although I admit, it’s still a little strange to see each time,” she adds, laughing as Morgan Stark suddenly pops up from under one of the tables in an attempt to surprise Natasha.

Steve laughs, too. He gets what she means. It’s a little odd to see Natasha being playful, almost silly, when she’s almost always elegant and composed, or coy and tempting.

But he also knows that she likes to tease and she certainly loves her jokes—the cheesier and nerdier, the better—so maybe this side of her isn’t actually odd at all.

“While we’re on the subject of strange sights,” Wanda adds, her voice lilting in amusement, and Steve finds her eyes twinkling brightly when he turns to look at her with one eyebrow arched. “I noticed Nat was wearing the same clothes at breakfast as she wore the day before, when we bumped into each other.”

He chuckles. He’s been wondering when this would come up.

His sister has probably wanted to ask him right after they dropped Natasha off at her apartment after breakfast, but then he’d taken Wanda and Pietro back to his place to take a look through the box themselves, so they ended up having other things to discuss. As he’d guessed, neither of them knew the man and the woman in that photograph with their father and Melina, and they also hadn’t had any idea that their father knew Melina from before he met Howard, let alone before Edward and Melina were married.

The silver lining had been that neither of his siblings seemed pissed off by this new revelation. They may have been a little upset, but he’d anticipated that.

It might have made sense that their father wouldn’t have had the chance to tell Steve about this, but Wanda and Pietro lived with Joseph their whole lives. Hell, they’d practically grown up with the Starks. Melina could’ve told them herself, or any of the Starks, for that matter.

Which makes it more likely than not that the Starks don’t know of it, either. Or, if they do, there’s a reason why everyone’s keeping quiet.

“I didn’t want her driving home after we’d been drinking,” Steve tells his sister, trying in vain to keep a straight face with Wanda practically beaming at him, “and I didn’t want her getting a cab, either. She borrowed your pajamas, by the way,” he adds. Wanda arches an eyebrow, giving him an expectant look. “She also slept in your bed.”

She pouts playfully, nudging his shoulder. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Wanda,” he laughs.

“You two are really good together,” she insists. “You’ve been spending so much time together, too. I thought you might’ve already…”

Steve rubs his lips together, glancing away with a shake of his head. Yeah, he doesn’t really need his sister finishing that sentence. He gets that she’s not a little girl, but he still doesn’t really want to hear that his sister assumed he and Natasha have hooked up already.

“We both work long days, almost every day,” he points out. “We only really meet for dinner, and honestly, we’re both tired as hell most of the time.”

It’s the truth, but only really half of it. Yes, he and Natasha see each other almost every day, and it hadn’t taken long for them dining out to transition into them ordering in (mostly at her place, because he’d rather be the one to drive home afterward than her). They tend to meet up late, and Steve is typically tired by the time they get around to eating, but that wouldn’t have been enough for him to say no if she asked him to stay the night. In fact, he tends to feel wide awake after they’ve spent the night talking.

He would be lying if he said he’s never thought of them being more. Honestly, he thinks he’s entertained the thought from the moment they met.

But he knew the reason she’d gone out of her way to see him at first had been because Howard asked her to, and after they’d developed a genuine friendship, he still hesitated because he knew she still felt apprehensive toward his friendship with Sam and Bucky.

But now, he can’t explain exactly why, but things feel different. Now it feels like they’re ready for more.

“But you do like her, don’t you?” Wanda asks, and he can tell that it isn’t really a question. She just wants him to admit it.

Steve feels his lips tugging into a smile as he takes a sip of his cocktail. Across the room, Natasha has managed to steal Baby Nathaniel away once more, holding him with their faces close together as her gaze drifts across the room. Her eyes catch Steve’s, her smile widening as it’s half-hidden behind Nathaniel, and she waves.

“Yeah,” Steve answers, feeling his own smile widen. “Yeah, I do.”

Wanda lets out a giggle, wrapping an arm around his waist to squeeze him into a hug, and Steve chuckles as he leans down to brush a kiss atop her head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks about how, just a few months ago, he wouldn’t have had a conversation like this with his sister. Not because she wouldn’t have cared, but because, as often as they tried to visit each other, their lives wouldn’t have been intertwined enough to for them to talk like this. Not specifically, anyway, and certainly not enough for her to have a preference on who he might be interested in. Hell, she probably wouldn’t have known who else was in his life, other than Sam and Bucky, and he wouldn’t have known the same for her or Pietro, either. He’d always felt he was close with Pietro and Wanda before, as much as the three of the could be, considering their circumstances.

But he hadn’t realized just how much closer they could be if he could see them every day like he does now. If their lives were more involved on every facet.

And honestly, other than Sam and Bucky, Steve hadn’t had any particularly meaningful connections in his old life. He’d had friends, but none he allowed himself to get genuinely attached to. Who his father was had always lingered, and if push came to shove, Steve didn’t want to risk anyone getting tangled up in something they had no idea about if someone found out who he was and who his father was—and someone would’ve found out, even if his hand hadn’t been forced the day that his father went missing.

He’d gotten lucky that his two best friends had both ended up cops and put the dots together on their own, because Steve really wouldn’t have known how to tell them. He hates that he put them in a tough spot by choosing to stay friends, but, at the very least, he knows that they’re more equipped to handle themselves.

And now, he has the luxury of becoming attached. After a lifetime of only having his parents and Wanda and Pietro, and Bucky and Sam, now he has the whole Family.

And he has Natasha.

... ...

With the club only barely starting repairs, Natasha brought everything she needed from the office back to her apartment, though truthfully, there’s not much for her to work on. Her father is the one directly speaking to the contractors to get the front of the club fixed, and since they won’t be open until that’s done, she only really needs to check in with management. She supposes this means she could drop in on either of her parents to give them a hand, maybe spend a few hours at Stark Industries with her uncle or help May at the diner. Natasha plans to soon, because she doesn’t really get to see May all that much, and because Peter always helps out, too, so they can hang out more.

But between looking into “Sarah Rogers” and trying to figure out why the hell her mother and Joseph Rogers were in that photograph together, she’s still got quite enough to keep busy. She’ll likely need to start making the rounds soon, though, before her family starts asking what she’s up to.

Unless you happen to be Tony, who decides to invite himself over unannounced to find out.

She gets a text from her cousin as she’s stepping out of the shower, asking what she wants for breakfast, which she knows is really just him giving her a head’s up that he’s on his way over. The last few days of digging haven’t turned up anything, so she figures she can take a break to tag along with whatever Tony has planned.

But when she sees Peter walk in through her door after Tony, she realizes that this is more than just her cousin being nosy and wanting to poke into her business.

Peter has a terrible poker face, and right away, she knows something’s wrong. “What happened?” she asks, reaching over to push aside some of the longer chunks of his hair flopping into his eyes. “Why aren’t you in school?”

He hesitates, eyes flitting over Natasha as if worrying if something happened to her, before reaching into his pocket as he says, “I got something this morning.” He pulls out his phone, swiping at the screen a few times, and then flips it around to show her the screen to show her a photo of herself leaving her apartment. It’s obvious it’s taken at a distance, just across the street, though considering that cameras on phones can get a decent zoom quality, she can’t say for sure how far away the person had truly been.

Peter swipes for her before she can respond, pulling up another photo of her, taken through the front window of the club before someone had put a car through it.

Natasha blinks down at the photo for a moment before glancing up, eyes flitting from Peter and Tony, and she watches the realization flash across both of their faces almost in the exact same second as they stare back at her.

“You’ve gotten one, too, haven’t you?” Tony asks, holding up another photo of her on his own phone.

Peter’s expression pinches even tighter with worry, if possible. “Nat.”

“I did, just the other day,” she admits, turning to walk into the kitchen, knowing that they’ll follow. “Maria was here when I got it, so she knows, too.”

“The other day? What the hell, Nat?” Tony asks, setting the bakery box and tray with their coffees down on the island counter as Natasha drops onto one of the barstools. Peter immediately hops onto the one beside hers, spinning to face her. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Tony half-demands. Natasha doesn’t quite flinch at his tone, but she feels her surprise flit across her face before she can catch herself, and at this, Tony’s frustration seems to ebb almost entirely as he drops onto the other stool beside her. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, and he nods once because he knows she’s being sincere. She knows he’s just worried and it makes him come off impatient.

On her other side, Peter judges his knee against hers. “When did you get your text?”

Natasha exhales, tugging the bakery box closer and popping the lid open as she replies, “The same day as Nathaniel’s party.”

“Is that why you haven’t told anyone yet?” Peter asks, although his voice sounds a little off, like he knows that isn’t quite right.

Natasha shakes her head, glancing from him to Tony. It’s not that she doesn’t trust them to keep quiet if she asks, but also, she doesn’t want them to have to keep a secret from everyone else. Still, now that they’re obviously involved to some extent, she doesn’t really have a choice. She also thinks that they’re likely the only two out of the family to get these photos so far, because everyone else would’ve come to her the moment they a text themselves, just as Tony and Peter did; clearly, since Peter is skipping school.

“You can’t tell the family,” she insists. “You can’t tell anyone, other than Steve and Maria. At this point, I suspect Wanda and Pietro might know, too.”

Confusion tugs at Tony’s expression. “They all got photos?”

“No. Or, if they did, they haven’t had the chance to tell me. But I’ve got more than just this going on,” Natasha admits, waving a hand at where Peter’s phone is on the counter, his screen still pulled up to the photo of her, “and I’ll admit that, at this point, I don’t know what the hell to feel about all of it.”

“Wow,” Peter says quietly, studying her face. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” His forehead creases. “And you’re sure you want to keep it from everyone else?”

“For now, it’s probably for the best,” she admits, her lips twitching in a wry smile. “Our family is pretty good at keeping secrets, anyway.”

... ...

Steve isn’t sure whether it’s reckless or just stupid for him to have Sam and Bucky here, but they were already near the brewery when they called to say they had news to share, and Steve figured that they’d at least have some semblance of privacy here in his office. People would talk—and have been talking—every time Steve meets up with either of them no matter what, and honestly, it doesn’t feel so much like a threat anymore. He’s knows that both Howard and Nick would back him up with little hesitation, and even if Odin hasn’t entirely warmed up to Steve yet, he also wouldn’t jeopardize his standings with the other two Families simply because his daughter wants to cause chaos.

Clint didn’t even bat an eye when Steve told him that Sam and Bucky were coming, and if Steve had been looking for approval, that would’ve been all he needed.

“Anonymous tips?”

Steve glances at where Clint is sitting on the corner of the desk, arching an eyebrow, before turning back to Bucky and Sam sitting in the chairs placed across his desk. “There’s no way they were all called in,” Clint argues, though his tone gives away the fact that at least part of him is genuinely considering this.

“I didn’t think so, either, but we’ve got all the call records to back it up,” Sam insists with a shake of his head. “Every damn one of those busts were tipped off, and most calls came in an hour beforehand, sometimes half an hour, but it still would’ve given the precincts a pretty generous chance to prep and then haul ass to each of the sites.”

“Well, shit,” Clint says on an exhale, swiping a hand over his face. “Now we know why they felt too damn consistent to be a coincidence.”

“Someone clearly had it out for you,” Bucky tells Steve.

Steve feels his lips twitch into a wry smile, but only for a moment, because then he’s glancing at Clint again. “It hasn’t just been our shipments, though,” he points out as he taps his pen to the desk for the sake of something to do. “Everyone’s been taking hits. Sabotaging me would make sense, maybe even cutting a few losses themselves to hide their own tracks. But all those shipments lost, all across the board?” Steve shakes his head. “It’d be a pretty damn risky plan, because now everyone in the Family is pissed.”

Clint nods, even as he adds, “Doesn’t mean it’s unfathomable. Someone just might be that reckless.”

“Or hold that big of a grudge,” Bucky chimes in.

Clint nods again, turning to Steve. “Could be Ivan. He sure as shit doesn’t think things through before acting. But then again, it’d be too damn obvious of an answer.”

“Yeah, but it’s still something worth looking into,” Steve points out. “And if anyone would be willing to piss off the whole Family for their own agenda, it’d be him. He’s barely loyal to his own father, let alone to Howard or anyone else. I doubt he’s pulling this off alone, though,” he adds, and all three men nod at this. Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head again. “What about the drive-by?” he asks, catching the way something dark flickers in Bucky’s eyes as he sits up a little straighter. “Anything new come up there?”

He knows they would’ve mentioned it themselves if anything substantial had turned up, but they don’t seem surprised that he’s asked.

“They got a match on the plate, which pretty much confirms what we knew about it being an Asgard car,” Sam answers. “No one we’ve interviewed from the scene so far has had any leads worth following, or any reason someone would be after them, specifically.”

“Other than Wanda,” Clint guesses.

Bucky nods, glancing from him to Steve. “Did Wanda have a reason for being there at that time, something that could’ve been planned? I know we asked already—”

“No, I know.” Steve offers a wry smile. “She won’t mind if you need to question her again, though.”

But Bucky shakes his head with an exhale. “She and I have already combed over the details of everything she could remember. She was there getting dinner, but it was something she’d done on an impulse because she’d been shopping nearby.” Something flickers in his eyes before he adds, “I asked if she could’ve been followed. If she had even a damn second of paranoia at all that day, or any day before, that maybe someone had been watching her. She said she didn’t, but as soon as I thought about it—”

Steve feels his chest tighten. Shit. As soon as Bucky had said the words, they felt pretty fucking real, and it felt like a damn good hunch.

“Fuck,” Clint mutters. “Why the hell hadn’t we thought of that?”

Sam winces, looking annoyed with himself. It’s true that they’d assumed Wanda had been the target, but they’d also just assumed someone knew she’d be there. She goes shopping in that area often enough that it would’ve made sense, but it was never anything she planned ahead of time, so how the hell could someone had anticipated it?

If someone had been following her, though, they wouldn’t have needed to know her schedule.

They would’ve just needed an opportunity.

#romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #chanty writes #mafia 'verse

[what-the--curtains]

Braving the Elements

Chapter 7: Grilled cheese and Sob Stories

Tw: mentions of war, swearing

Authors note: Time to get SOFT

(The record being played)

You jolt awake, ripping the sheets off yourself. The heat of your body is made even more apparent by the cool droplets of sweat forming along your arms and back. Not again. Another nightmare, you were back in that prison strapped down to the cold, lifeless, metal table where your captors had extracted a few of your teeth, amongst other things. Between, your military days, prison and working for Roman, you weren’t short on nightmare material. You get Friday to turn the lights on. You found that assessing your surroundings always helped. It reminded you of where you were, grounding you. Turning to your side table you see that the orchid you had got at the farmers market had shrivelled up and lost its flowers. You forgot that your nightmares had the potential to sap the life out of any plants in your vicinity. I guess you weren’t the only victim of your trauma. Unable to go back to sleep you decide to get up and head to the kitchen to grab something to eat and to restore your dead plant back to its former glory.You enter the kitchen scrunching up your face and squinting as you step into an ungodly amount of light, hearing a gruff voice ask “What’s up?” Your eyes adjust just enough to decipher that the voice belongs to the winter soldier. You’re suddenly increasingly aware of how you must look with messy hair, puffy eyes and a distinct lack of pants. After cursing yourself for caring what some stupid guy thought, you grumble out “Couldn’t sleep, too hungry”. Technically it wasn’t a total lie as you were really hungry

Gonna eat that plant” he asks with a grin.

“Gonna, bring it back to life” you say, placing it down on the counter top and revitalizing it, allowing a single white orchid with pink and purple spots to bloom before lowering your hands.

“What no witty comeback? Pretty cool how you can bring something back to life.” Bucky says, currently focused on the pan in front of him.

“Wow, geek out much?” you respond groggily.

“There she is” he chuckles, you repress the smile that that comment had brought to your face.

“Whater ya making?” you ask, pushing yourself up onto the counter top and peering into his pan.

“Grilled cheese, you want one?” He asks

“Sam said you were mean, mean people don’t offer to make you food” you say as you swing your feet back and forth

“First rule of living here, never listen to Sam he’s always wrong.” The dry delivery of this line causes you to snicker.

“Sure, but you gotta put pickles in it, it’s the only way to eat a grilled cheese properly!” you say hopping down from the counter and walking to the fridge placing the jar down beside him. He gives you a disapproving look, but puts them on the sandwich anyways.

“If anyone ever tells you not to put pickles on a grilled cheese just known, deep down, they’re wrong.” You say informatively.

You grab the plate from him and say thanks before setting it down on the table and taking a bite. He sits down across from you and between bites asks

“So why are you really up?”

You’re not sure why, maybe it’s the fact he cooked you a meal, or that it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know, but you decide to tell him the truth.

“Eh just a nightmare nothing big.” you say taking another bite.

“War or testing?” He asks.

“Testing this time, how about you metal man? Why are you up?”

“It’s tin man, and testing. It usually is for me.” he says with a chuckle. Despite the laugh you can’t help, but notice the pain behind the words. You wonder what’s caused it but you don’t press him on the matter.

“Well guess I’m lucky then” you say, hoping to ease at least some of his troubles by brightening the mood ”at least I get some variety in my nightly broadcasts!”

He doesn’t laugh, instead he looks up at you earnestly, causing the smile on your face to slowly drop. His eyes seemingly staring into your soul. Evidently you weren’t the only one looking for answers to someone’s pain. Your heart begins to race. What was this look and, more importantly, why were you thinking about it so much. The moment is interrupted when the two of you hear another voice causing you both to jump.

“Is that grilled cheese?” A bed-headed Peter asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Jesus Peter!” you both say before offering him one, he nods a yes and Bucky goes back to the stove.

“How about you kid. What’s your sob story?” you ask, and he tells you about his uncle.

“Shit sorry kid.” you say sympathetically.

“ Hey at least my parents didn’t sell me!” he responds.

“Ouf,” you say, placing your hand over your heart like you’ve been shot “touché you’re right I win the contest for most tragic backstory.”

Wanda and Nat have wandered into the kitchen having heard the commotion and smelling the food. They make their own sandwiches and recant their own tragedies. Having all found your way to the couch, except for Bucky who has begun cleaning up, Peter says “Well this is depressing” with a slight laugh.

“Well,” you start, “when we were at the academy there was one thing that always used to always cheer Wanda up no matter how mad I'd made her.” Walking over to the record player Steve had installed you pull a record out of a plastic bag and place it on the turntable. “70’s records that we use to steal from Charles’ office and blare in the library at all hours.” You say, placing the needle onto the record which starts the record playing “and yes I did go into seven record shops before I found it because that's how much I love you!” you say pointing to Wanda.

You sit down next to her draping your arms around her neck and lip-syncing the first verse before pulling her up to dance to the chorus with you. Steve and Vision have appeared in the room looking disheveled and slightly annoyed. “Really!” Steve yells trying and failing to suppress a smile. “Oh come on, just cause some of us slept through the 70’s doesn’t mean the music wasn’t good grandpa” Nat says pulling him in to dance with her. As Vision finds his way over to Wanda, Peter surprises everyone by singing the second verse.

“Kids got skills” Bucky laughs from the kitchen

Sam slides into the room belting out the third verse as he dances his way over before hugging you from behind.

“Does tin man ever dance” you ask Sam as he spins you out to Wanda.

“ Well, he used to be swell, at least thats what all the ladies used to say” Steve chimes in with a grin. Sam has now forcibly pulled Bucky into the room. All of you dancing until the song ends and you all erupt into a fit of laughter before heading off to bed.

As you turn to go into your room Bucky grabs your wrist ever so lightly before gently pulling you to face him.

“When you get another nightmare, remember, I’m just a door away.” He says softly, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Ya thanks, same goes for you.” you say placing your hand on top of his and gently removing it from your wrist. As you turn to go into your room you can feel his eyes still on you. Deciding that trying to unpack what had just happened would keep you up all night you push the moment to the back of your mind. Crawling back under the covers, you drift off to sleep feeling truly happy for the first time in a long time

#bucky barns #bucky x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #braving the elements #avengers fanfiction #Spotify

[pocketfulofrogers]

Forever May Be Enough

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: 5 Years after the snap and losing everyone, including the love of your life, you take Scott’s semi crazy sounding plan straight to Tony. Basically bits and pieces of Endgame.

Notes: Endgame spoilers, but in this house we ignore canon. This is my final contribution to @teamcap4bucky summer sun and fun games! I got inspired while reading part 15 of @marvelgirl7 series The Protector. She writes lovely, but heartbreaking stories so in this we have a lot of angst, some Bucky, and a sweet ending.

“It’s not possible.” Tony says simply. “I’m sorry.” He adds quieter. You feel Steve tense, Natasha’ s shoulders fall. You’re almost certain Scott is vibrating.

You however, are frozen. Stuck leaning against the rough grain of a wooden pillar, eyes trained on the lake at the edge of the property. The clear blue burns your throat, turns your stomach inside out. His words swirl around your head and lap at the edges of the last wall of sanity you have left.

It’s the same ones that have haunted you for years. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. They weave their way through your body until you hear them fall from different lips.

Broken consonants and wide blue eyes looking up to you, filled for the first time with true fear. Crumbling fingertips leave ash in the sweat of your cheek as they desperately try to grasp something. Anything. Shaking fingers trail through long hair in an effort to keep him with you and you beg him to hold on just a little longer. You scream for Steve to do something, but you can see in his eyes defeat has already carved its home within him.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispers below you.

“Please. Bucky, please.” You beg with a sob, but he disappears anyways. You fold into yourself, howl your grief as you grapple at the empty space before you. Pain sears in your chest and you can taste rust on your tongue. Heaving gasps catch in your throat making you fear you may actually be suffocating. “Make it stop.” You beg.

Steve has to drag you away.

Natasha nudges you and you break from your trance only to see Tony walking away.

“Please.” The word breaks through louder than you intended and wince. “Tony, please.” You add quieter.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” There are those stupid words again.

He grabs your hand, presses the pad of his thumb into your knuckles, and moves to meet your gaze. When he clocks the cracked skin of your lips, the dark skin seeping beneath your eyes, worry builds in the pit of his stomach.

“Why don’t you stay for a while? Get some fresh air and Pepper can teach you about composting. Would be a great time. Morgan would love it.” Tony offers. When you don’t respond, only look off into the distance past his shoulder seemingly caught in a memory, he looks to Steve. He shrugs a response and slightly shakes his head. They all know you’re not well. You haven’t been for a while, but he’s forgotten how to help you. “We still have a room for you if you change your mind.”

His hand slips from yours and with it, your last piece of hope.

Steve walks to the car with you, his hand on your back. When he opens the door and helps you in, you want to scream at him that you are not fragile, you have not broken, but you can’t form the words.

**

Bruce turns Scott into a baby, among other things, and you excuse yourself to get some air. You were clinging so desperately to this second chance, but the harder you grasped, the quicker it seemed to slip away. Steve recognizes the look of you teetering on the edge and follows you.

“We’ll figure it out.” He says behind you.

Raking your hands down your face, you turn to him. “I know, I know.” You huff out. “This is just bringing everything back up. I guess you could say I’m not handling that well or whatever.” 

“I know it’s hard, Y/N.” 

“I just miss him so much.” You whisper.

It’s times like these he wishes Tony came around more often, or that you’d accept the countless offers to stay at the cabin. Time had allowed for apologies, but Steve still carried the guilt from Siberia and your relationship with Tony had forever been tainted after the accords.

Tony doesn’t know if he hates that he made you choose sides or the fact you didn’t choose him more.

Still, he knew you in ways the others couldn’t. Two souls born of similar circumstances; he was always able to read you. He had taken you under his wing after stumbling onto you what felt like almost a lifetime ago. He considered it his job to look after you, never failing to protect you in battle. Despite you arguing you can hold your own.

When Tony pulls up, seemingly answering Steve’s unspoken wishes, his relief is palpable. But when he pulls the shield out of his trunk to return it, your relief sends you flying into his arms.

He stumbles back, slightly caught off guard. “Oh, thank god.” You mumble into his neck.

**

You travel back in time to New York, get a kick out of seeing a younger Tony again and remind him you are well versed with old man jokes. Steve comments that you sound more like yourself, Tony agrees.

“Hope is a powerful thing, boys.” You smile.

Somehow you manage to hold onto it when Tony tells you they have to try 70s New Jersey for the Tesseract. You try to convince him you should go in his place, beg him to let you do this for him. He smiles softly, shakes his head, and disappears.

**

You mourn the loss of Natasha. It settles deep in your bones and you wonder if this will be the thing that breaks you. Steve, ever stoic, reminds you of what you’re all fighting for and he sounds so much like her.

**

Bruce snaps his fingers. There’re several explosions, you’re drowning on the lower level, and then you’re thrown into the next battle for the fate of the world before you’re even able to catch your breath. It’s a scene from your nightmares and so reminiscent of the worst day of your life.

Smoke thick in the air, an outrider pins you down. Its monstrous face snaps at you with rancid breath and you push back as hard as you can. The moment you think this is it, a bullet rips through it spraying blood into the open air.

“Perfect timing.” You mumble as you push the body off you. There’s a chuckle from behind you.

Oh, you know that voice. It whispers to you light as air on your worst days, sings lullabies when you can’t sleep, ghosts its lips down your neck.

“I’m getting pretty good at saving you.” Bucky quips behind you. You don’t want to look, you can’t. Fears that he will only disappear again will not leave you be. He kneels before you, concern creasing his brow. “This isn’t the best place for a break, doll.”

You finally meet his eyes and the air leaves your body. He reaches for you, a ghost manifested, and you flinch away. It couldn’t be, could it? You hover a hand beside his face, graze tentative fingers down his temple and you ache.

“Bucky?” You whisper, broken. You repeat his name again with more weight.

“Unless you know another handsome guy with a metal arm.”

He catches the tears as they fall from your waterline and you lunge for him. Wrap your body around his, bury your head in his chest, breathe him in. It’s sweat and dirt, but it’s him. Truly him. This moment had taunted your dreams for the last five years.

You pull away to take a moment to look at him. Not a day aged, the same soldier you’ve always loved. He gives you a crooked smile and you trace his lip with your thumb.

“We should really get back to it, darlin’.”

You smile at his voice, let his low timber soothe the scars time has left. “Just a moment, please.” He nods. You lean forward, replace your finger with your lips and revel in the taste of home.

“Alright, let’s finish this.”

**

Pepper clings to you when the doctors say Tony will survive. You hold her and whisper soothing words to hide your own tears. Rhodey takes over for you, ignoring your protests when you tell him you’re fine. The bags beneath your eyes and your bitten down nail beds tell him a different story.

Bucky finds you outside on a nearby bench pulling at the loose strings of your sweater.

“I hear Stark is going to pull through.”

You smile up at him and pull his hand into your lap when he sits beside you. “He’s too stubborn to let death win.” You chuckle.

“Seems that’s something else you learned from him.”

You’re quiet for a beat and he hopes you’ll take this moment to open up to him. You were different, that much was blatantly obvious. You carried yourself stiffer, your tone had become colder. He tried to ask the others, but it had been subtle changes over the years, things they never noticed. Clint even suggests there may have been no change at all.

But he knew better. For you it was five years, but to him it was five hours. He just wanted to help you.

You tilt your head towards him, turn up the corners of your lips. “Good thing, too.” You joke instead.

**

Steve returns with Natasha. You don’t ask him how, they don’t offer.

**

Bucky awakens to you grunting in your sleep. Your fists have the sheets gripped in a vice; your knuckles are white. You mumble something he can’t quite make out before screaming yourself awake. He pulls you to him quickly. Slips his hand in your hair while he whispers affirmations that he is okay and you are safe.

He waits until your sobs slow to just a hiccup.

“Talk to me.” He pleads softly.

You push out of his lap. “I’m fine, really. Just a standard superhero nightmare. Run of the mill. Go back to bed, Buck.” You flash him a smile, all tear-stained rosy cheeks and bloodshot eyes, and his heart still flutters.

He watches you get up for water and finds himself about to lay back down. You had gotten so good at disarming him, he almost didn’t catch what you had done.

“No.” He says before you’ve crossed the threshold of your room.

You turn back to him and raise a brow. “Well, I supposed you could stay up? I’m not your mother.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He counters.

You advert your eyes and cross your arms before your chest. Bruce had taught him cues to look for when he asked the others for tips. He knew your arms were meant to act as a barrier, which meant he was encroaching on something you didn’t want him near.

He reaches a hand out to you. “Come here.” You don’t budge. “Please.” He adds.

You huff, but walk to take it. He guides you to sit before him, but you’re still unable to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, or even anything, I just want to help you. Five years is a long time, doll. It couldn’t have been easy to go through.”

You’re quiet, only tracing the metal lines of his hand. He lets you turn his arm over and wordlessly gives you his other when you reach for it. Tony said it was how you grounded yourself. Feeling something on your fingertips allowed you to anchor yourself to something real.

“I’d never tell the others, but I think I gave up for a long time.” You start quietly, keeping your eyes down. “After we killed Thanos and found out the stones were gone. Steve tried so hard, he did, but I think it’s hard to hold someone else together when you yourself are falling apart.” You gnaw on your bottom lip to stop its quivering. “Losing you was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to survive.” You barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand in support. “I’m here.”

You clear your throat and swallow down your emotions. “You are.” You marvel. “The whole world said it would never happen, that we needed to just rebuild what we still had.”

“I’m s-“

“Don’t, please. You came back to me and that is all I could have ever asked for. It’s just going to take a minute for me to make peace with the time we lost, but I’m getting there.” You place a hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch. “You just simply being here is more than enough.”

**

He makes you pancakes in the morning. The smell is what wakes you and you follow it all the way to one of the kitchens of the compound. You find him standing before the stove, back facing you. He’s still in what he wore to bed. Sweats, no shirt. The muscles of his back tightening with his movements distracts you enough that you have to shake your head to clear the number of less than innocent thoughts that come to mind.

“Well isn’t this a treat.” You say from behind him.

He laughs and bows before motioning for you to take a seat. He puts a plate before you, topped exactly how you like it.

“Who went out and got all of this?” You ask.

Bucky licks some whipped cream from his thumb. “Guess Natasha had a sweet tooth.” He shrugs.  

You plop a bite into your mouth. “What’s the occasion?” 

“It’s been a while, Tony’s on the mend, Steve’s still set on retiring for now, and the others are laying low. We have to decide what we’re going to do.”

You hum and raise a brow. “Awful big decision for first thing in the morning, my love.”

He nods in agreement. “Still a decision to be made, though.” He takes advantage of you full mouth. “We could stay here, run some trainings, monitor some missions with the new head of SHIELD. I think we’ve earned a break from saving the world for a bit.”

“Or?” You prompt, sensing the word on the tip of his tongue.

“We trade this life for one of our own. A house, a yard,” He lists. “Kids.” He adds quieter.

Your eyes widen. An awfully big discussion for first thing in the morning indeed, but clearly something that’s been on his mind.

“It’s just something to think about, but there is a question that needs answering. What do we do now?” He asks you.

You swallow the last of your breakfast and smile, commit the image of him hopeful and buzzing before you to memory. “Well, we have forever, don’t we? Let’s figure it out tomorrow.”

#teamcap4bucky summer sun and fun #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #marvel #Avengers

[emergenciesstory]

For the King

For @star-spangled-bingo square “Royal AU” and Lyric Prompt (in bold)

Pairing: King!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4554

A/n: I don’t normally write these types of things, but that's why I got into SSB2020, to be challenged. I may go back and edit this in the future, but for my first true AU, I love it. It’s long, but I think you’ll like it.

“Your highness.” You murmur softly, bowing your head and body slightly as you passed in the hall. His head inclined toward you in acknowledgement, a hello he was custom to. You waited until he had passed, resuming your upright posture and watching him leave, Royal advisor speaking low in his ear. Blue eyes looked back and locked with yours, a soft smile making the cool Grey dance before disappearing through the doorway. If only he knew how his look affected you.

___

“You’re late.” Natalia smirked as you retied the corset over your top. After running into the Prince, you scurried to change your skirts and get to training on time.

“It’s only a few moments. It doesn’t matter, you are not supposed to be teaching me to fight anyways.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing the test sword from the racks and giving it some swings.

“You act like I don’t know you’ve fought before. Besides, Steve seemed to think it was a good idea.” Nat shrugged, sauntering to you with the point of her weapon dragging the ground.

“You spoke to the Royal Advisor about this? Do you know the consequences of doing this?! I’m no one here, a groundskeeper and herbalist. Expendable staff, you could have gotten me killed.” Your voice was getting louder as you thought of what may have been going on.

“Like James would ever allow that. Besides, I spoke to my betrothed about my friend wanting to learn. Not work related.” Nat gestured for you to begin your training, conversation over.

“I’m sorry, I just, I’m not some cool weapons trainer betrothed to a royal advisor, Nat. I’m a nobody who has no one. My family is dead, It’s only me.”

“Sounds like you have a lot in common with our Soon-to-be King.” She smiled, still blocking each swipe with ease.

“Have they set the date for his Betrothed to arrive?” You asked after a few moments, dropping the sword solemnly.

“Rumor has it she arrives tonight, per orders of Queen Rebecca.”

“And the wedding?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“Rebecca must return to her Husband, and kingdom, by the end of the next, meaning the Prince must take the throne before then.” Nat placed her hand on your shoulder. “You have two weeks to fight for him.”

You raised your head to meet her eyes, tears forming and making your eyes watery. “No, I have fourteen days to learn my place.”

__

              You swiped the apple from the tree, sitting softly on the high walls of the garden. Tossing one down to your horse, you reached for another, plucking the bright red fruit from the tree. The crisp skin gave way under your bite, juice running down your chin.

              “Hey, you! Stop!” The calling startled you, and you jumped from the wall onto your horse, riding around the garden wall. You ducked into the woods, only to stop short buy another guard on horseback. Head hung low, he walked you and your horse back to the palace, and into a large room. You kept your head down, trying to make the tears stop.

              “A child?” A females voice rang out.

              “Stealing apples, tried to run when we called for her.” The guard said. You stayed quiet, sniffling softly.

              “There there, no need to cry.” The female voice came closer, hands soft making you look up. The soft eyes of Queen Winifred looked upon you gently. “How old are you?”

“Six, ma’am.”

“Nothing to cry over, it's just some apples. We have more than enough to share. Why did you run?”

              “I’m sorry, your majesty, I was just hungry, I didn’t see the harm in taking a couple every now and then. But then he yelled and I was startled and-“ Your breathing got faster, so you stopped, reminding yourself to breathe.

              “Where are your parents, child? We can at least make sure you get home safely.”

              “I don’t have any. Mum passed about a year ago, and Papa was in the mining accident.” You shrugged. “Its just me and Red.”

              The queen looked back at her husband who nodded, then took your hand. “How would you like to stay with us, hmm?”

              “No, ma’am. Thank you but I will make do.”

              “Nonsense, why, I believe you will get along well with our son and his friend.”

___

You moved effortlessly around the guest chambers, placing flowers and herbs around, opening windows and curtains, allowing the breeze to come into the balcony door. Soft trumpets alerted you to the Princess’ arrival in the village, and you made your way to the grand entry, smoothing your skirts. Prince James stood beside his older sister Rebecca in the entry hall speaking softly, Nat and Steve murmuring to each other nearby.

“Your highnesses.” You bowed upon entering, alerting them to your presence.

“Ah, Y/n! Just the girl I was speaking of.” Rebecca said joyfully, acknowledgment allowing you to enter fully. You looked at her with a soft smile, refusing to meet James’ eyes.

“How may I be of assistance, my Queen?” you approached her, hands folded in front of you.

“I’d like for you to assist the arriving Princess with all her needs. You will be her maiden for her stay with us until her departure after the union.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded, mentally cursing the drop your heart made. Rebecca smiled, speaking once again to James but you stopped listening.

A guard came to announce the arrival of the carriage, and Rebecca and James moved forward towards the entrance of the Palace to greet their company, Nat and Steve falling in line behind them. Nat squeezed your hand as she passed, silent understanding and beckoning to follow. Only at this point did you allow yourself to look up at James, as he was already focused on meeting his betrothed. His short dark hair was lightly tussled, simple white shirt and Storm blue vest accenting his eyes perfectly. His silver sword hung in the black leather cover at his hip, relaxed and casual in a way you had always envied.

The carriage pulled up, slowing to a stop. Steve came to the door, opening it with a smile and offering his hand to the occupant. Out of the carriage a beautiful Petite Redhead emerged, Dress a golden color, but light and flowy around her body, much like yours. For a moment, you questioned if she was the princess or simply another maiden, but the jewelry that adorned her head told you she was the betrothed. Intricate silver and gold flowers wove together into a crown, a compliment to her gown and complexion.

You watched silently from the sidelines until a gesture was made to you by Rebecca, eyes moving towards you. You smiled at the Princess, receiving a gracious one back. Your eyes flickered to James, his crystal blues a stormy grey, the smile not quite reaching them. Quickly glancing down, you waited until instructed to show the princess her chambers to freshen up before meals.

_____

              “Come on, you can do better than that!” You yelled back, head falling back with laughter on your lips. Prince James raced towards your lead, leaning into his saddle. You slowed up at the top of the hill, swinging a leg over to sit sideways and face him.

              “You cheated!” he laughed, jumping down from his horse.

              “How so? Just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean I cheated.” You teased.

              James reached up and lifted you off your horse, placing you on your feet. “Riding bareback might be cheating.”

              “And what are you going to do about it?” You taunted, looking up at him. The two of you had been thick as thieves ever since you accepted the Queens generosity almost thirteen years prior. You went to classes with Rebecca, his older sister for a while, learning about the grounds and finding a true home in the gardens and caring for the plants and animals over the grounds.

              James leaned his forehead on yours, challenging look in his eyes before his hands pushed you, him already on his horse by time you landed.

              “I’m going to race you home!” He laughed taking off, but still looking back to make sure you were okay. You laughed; Prince James would be the death of you.

__

“Your highness?” you knocked on the chamber doors, shortly before the call to meal.

“You may enter.” Dolores’ voice carried through the large door. You opened the chambers, seeing her sit before the vanity, twisting her hair softly back into place.

“Your highness, Dinner shall be served soon in the grand hall. If you’d like to be escorted, I’d be happy to do so.” You kept your eyes to the floor, waiting to be acknowledged.

“That would be lovely, y/n. After, perhaps you could give me a tour of the grounds?” She stood, slipping on a pair of flats with a soft smile.

“Of course, your highness.” You nodded, holding the door.

“Dot, Please. I hope we can become friends.” She placed a hand on your shoulder softly, your eyes landing on her face. You smiled and held your hand out towards the hall.

“Of course, Dot.”

The two of you spoke through the walk across the palace to dinner, then again as you showed her palace grounds. She was well versed, with big dreams and views of the world around her. You spoke much for the next few days, as you aided her in getting around the palace and settling into what would be her new home. Standing off to the sidelines as she and James attended Outings and Planned the Ball to happen right before their union.

              “Dot, I do believe you will be a great queen for our people.” You spoke softly, closing curtains.

              “I hope so. It is my duty to bring goodness and change as best I can.” She said simply, no more elaboration as to her plans for the kingdom. A knock rang out through the chambers, a questioning look passing between the two of you. “Come in.” Dot spoke with a shrug, pulling her silk robe around herself tighter.

Nat’s head came into the chambers, worry on her face. “I apologize for the intrusion, your highness.”

“Oh, it’s nothing Natalia. And Dot, please. What may we owe the pleasure of your visit this late hour?”

“My business is actually with y/n, pertaining to her former duties.” Nat looked at you, trying to gain your attention.

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t always a maiden. You looked over the garden and horses, correct?” Dot smiled softly. You nodded, looking at Nat.

“I’m sure Wanda can handle it in my absence.” You spoke softly, returning to turning down the bedcovers.

“Nonsense, go, please. I will be fine until morning. I insist.” Dot said, leaving no room for argument.

“Thank you, Dot.” Nat nodded her way before motioning to the hall. “Y/n, please.”

You followed, closing the chamber doors behind you and hurrying after Nat moving down the hall.

“Nat, what’s wrong? Wanda is far more than capable of- “

“It’s Redwing.” Your heart dropped. Your horse, the only reminder of your family. “She’s not doing well. She refuses to eat, to go to the pastures, we’re worried.”

Your steps quickened in the direction of the stables, concern taking hold of your features.

__

Five days. You spent five days in the stables babying your horse in hand feedings, soothing baths, and coaxing her through whatever illness had taken hold. White Wolf, James’ horse, refused to leave her side, but fortunately remained healthy. You sent them out to the pasture one night, mucking the private stables they had been staying in.

“I thought I’d find you here.” A deep voice made you freeze in place, the light of the setting sun illuminating his silhouette outside the stable lights.

“Your highness, how can I be of service?” you spoke softly, setting the shovel against the stall door.

“Y/n, It’s just us.” His voice broke softly, but you could have sworn you made it up.

“I am aware, your highness.” You turned to him, brushing your hands on your pants around the tunic top you wore. “Can I help you with something?”

James studied your face before sighing, looking over at the horses happily grazing.

“You should be proud. I heard it was touch and go for a while.”

“She is strong, much like your kingdom.” You said, joining him by the fence. James let out a low whistle, a solid tone, gaining the attention of White Wolf, who trotted happily towards you, Redwing close behind. Easily flipping himself over the wooden fence, James nestled the horse, rubbing his head and neck in greeting.

              “Do you remember the ride we took a couple years ago, right after my parents died?” James asked, looking back at you. You sat on the fence, stroking Redwings neck.

              “I do. Rebecca had just come home to rule until you were of age and was so mad when we came home covered in mud. Said we needed to grow up.” You mused, thinking back on that day.

              “I guess we did.” James said, watching you intensely. “I always believed in my fathers plans, his plan for my life, for this kingdom.”

              “He was a good and smart man.” You murmured, remembering all he had done for you.

              “Was this what he wanted?” James suddenly asked, moving to stand before you, hands on either side of your hips.

              “You carry your grandfathers seal to rule, James. The joining of the kingdoms would bring all four villages together as one alliance.” You said, plain and true to facts.

              “I always thought he’d want me to marry someone I loved, not of duty.” James said.

              “You’ve grown up betrothed to her. Dot is the uniting force. She can be good for you if you let her in.” You said softly.

              “You were always the sensible one of us.” James said softly. After a few moments, James sighed. “Part of me wishes my father had passed on his seal before he passed, taken this weight off my shoulders. That I could follow my heart rather than...”

              You brought your hand up to his face as he trailed off, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. “You’ll be a great king, Bucky.” His childhood nickname made him smile, covering your hand with his own. “I always knew you would be.”

              “Come on, it’s cold out here. Come inside.” James helped you off the fence and placed a hand behind you, escorting you back into the palace and pulling you into him softly. Little did you know, someone watched the entire thing from their balcony.

__

“I saw how he looks at you, every time you walk into the room.” Dot said simply while you were braiding her hair for the ball.

“I beg your pardon? Who are we speaking of?”

“James. MY betrothed. I will not feel threatened in my own kingdom.” Dot said simply, fixing her dress.

“I do not understand, your union is tonight, I pose no threat to you.” You said softly, locking eyes in the mirror.

“I know you like him. It’s quite obviously pathetic. And I know you are no threat. At least you won’t be.” Dot stood, slipping on her shoes. “For if you are not long gone by the end of the ball, a death sentence is what you obtain. For attempted murder of the new Queen, and successful murder of the King. Gone, and never to return. If I were you, I’d choose life far, far away.”

You stood in shock, Dot not looking at you as she walked out. She stopped in the doorway, eyes laced with venom. “If you think I’m joking, you should have learned better.”

You saddled up Redwing, messenger bags holding few belongings. The sounds of the party rang out the open windows, one last look upon a place that had been your home for thirteen years. Your sword sat on your hip, one last reminder of this home as you lead Redwing by her reigns to the gates. Pulling your cloak tightly around you, you allowed the moon to light your path, tears welling up in your eyes as you rode away. Not only had you lost your heart to a king, you’d lost your home to save his life.

__

*five years later*

You rode into the village, unrecognizable after the years you had been gone. The light and joy that was once evident had vanished, grime and darkness through the path. Pulling your cloaks hood over your face, you rode the familiar path to the palace from Rebecca's kingdom.

“Halt, who goes there?” The guard stopped you before the plaza, the two on the path crossing their spears.

“I come upon the invitation of Steven Grant and Natalia Romanov, the Royal advisor and Weapons Trainer.” You spoke, remaining still with a clouded face. “They are expecting me.”

You waited, a subtle nod from the upper guard for the others to stand down.

“Stables are to the East; you may board your stead there.”

You nodded, nudging Redwing towards the familiar path along the East tower. You moved slowly, head bowed to evade recognition within the palace grounds. Once to the guest stables, you dismounted, removing the saddle and placing it on a tack rail, brushing her out before opening her favorite stall door to the pasture.

“Oh, miss, we would have done all that.” A small voice came from the doorway.

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to.” You spoke, setting feed and water troths into the stall, still not turning towards the woman.

“Huh, you must have a special horse, White Wolf normally doesn’t take to other horses.” You glanced out into the pasture, and sure enough the two were excited to be reunited and running at full speed to the corners of the pasture.

“I’d say so. He’s beautiful.” You said softly, finally turning towards your old friend. “Although I’m sure Redwing is just happy to be home, Wanda.”

The small girl dropped the tack brush she was holding, launching herself to you.

“I didn’t recognize you! Where have you been? Why are you back?”

“I heard home needed to be reminded of it’s past life.” You said solemnly. “No matter the price.”

You left Wanda shortly after, making her swear to not speak a word of your return. Slipping into a rear servant’s entrance, hood pulled over your face once again, you managed to make your way across the palace in search of Nat. Not finding her, you left a note in her and Steve’s chambers. “The garden.” That’s all it said, no signature needed. Slipping back out, you went to your favorite spot in the garden by the cover of sun fall. As you approached, you froze at the sight before you. Lounging on the bench amongst the flowers sat a face that had haunted your every dream. His eyes were closed, relaxed in what seemed to be sleep. His dark hair was longer, pulled back into a low bun with many tendrils falling out. His features were pale, dark circles surrounding his eyes.

“One move, and you’ll be meeting a sword to your neck.” His gravelly voice spoke without opening his eyes. You glanced down to see his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“All due respect, your highness, but you know better than to leave your weapon fully sheathed when making threats.” You tried to hide the amusement in your voice, hand resting on your own sword.

“I am the King, you will not speak to me in such a way.” He muttered, removing his sword from his side.

“If a fight is what you wish, your Majesty, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

His features stilled as his eyes opened, looking over your form, confusion on his face at the sass coming from your lips. His face slowly registered your voice.

“It can’t be.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bench, quickly standing before you. You tucked your head, his body towering over you. The soft calluses of his hand met your cheek as he made you look up, removing your hood with his other hand. “You, you’re dead…” His voice trailed off, eyes never leaving yours.

“I can assure you, I am not dead.” You murmured. “I’m afraid that was a lie forged by your Betrothed to rid me from your life.”

“You broke my heart.”

“You stole mine long before.”

You stood there, chest to chest, eyes locked with his hand on your cheek for what seemed like an eternity.

“When you left, I was devastated. When news of your death by poachers arrived, I couldn’t function. I was so sick, I… I gave her all control.” Realization began to register on his face of the events that transpired so long ago.

“It’s the past now.” You said softly, touching his face.

“I always loved you.” He said, you could feel the need in his voice, reaching to know you knew.

“And that’s why I threatened her to leave.” Dot’s crude voice interrupted the silent moment. Bucky jerked away, looking up at the new individual in the gardens.

“You did what?”

“Told her to leave and never return or you’d both die.” Dot said simply, malice in her voice. “Couldn’t have her ruining what I wanted, a little no one ruining my hard work. I made it possible to rule a kingdom alone, no one to stop me. To gain the riches and expand my father’s kingdom. All I had to do was get you out of the way, and let me tell you, I was ready to poison you, make you too sick to rule. But she made it so easy for you to hand over everything.”

Bucky stood frozen, processing what was being said.

“All hail the Queen.” The smirk on Dot’s face grew as she tipped an imaginary hat. Guards flanked her sides, Nat and Steve hanging their heads from the back of the group, no choice in who their allegiance was to. “I’m sorry” Nat mouthed, making eye contact with you. You nodded at her, knowing she was just trying to survive. Guards took Bucky to Steve, leading him away, his hollering of your name ringing on deaf ears. Guards began to surround you, but you simply reached a hand up to your cloak, pulling on the tie.

“I Stand up for my home.” You said softly, dropping the fabric and removing the sword from your side. “Even if I take this walk alone.”

“The Royal Guards seal of Protection.” One of the guards said, stopping in his tracks, looking back at Nat, unsure what to do. He hesitated, eyes studying the sword in which you held. The Seal brought much power to the owner.

“You gave it to her?” Dot sneered, venom spitting at Nat.

“I don’t have reign over the Royal Guard Seal.” She said simply. “A king must bestow it to the wielder, for great bravery and promise. As you know, it is normally bestowed to the true heir to the throne, gifted by a grandfather to grandchild in succession.”

              “I bow down to the King upon the throne.” You said, glaring at Dot. “My life is his, I’m no longer my own.”

“It’s fake. As though you could wield it properly, A pathetic girl. Take her to the dungeon.” Dot dismissed, turning around. The guards pulled their weapons, but were no match for you. Disarming them quickly, your training greatly improved since your old training with Natalia, soon it was left to You pointing the sword to Dot, no defenses left.

“By order of the Past King, George M. Barnes, I relieve you of your duties to this kingdom.” You said simply, dropping the sword from eye level.

“Under what authority to permit his words, he died many years ago.” Dot scoffed. “I rule here now.”

“Under the authority of his seal, gifted to me on my Seventeenth birthday, in the presence of Past Queen Winifred, Current Queen Rebecca Proctor, and the attending guard, Steven Grant.” You spoke clearly. “In the event the one who wield his fathers seal is unfit to rule, it is my duty to the kingdom to take his place.” You paused, nodding towards Steve who had just returned to assist. “No matter who holds the throne in their place.”

“Treason. You will be dead.” Dot sniped. “Natalia, take her away.”

“I’m sorry, your highness, but she is actually correct. Per our codes and laws, you no longer reign here. And After hearing your accounts of threatening, plans to kill our royals, and stealing from our people,” Nat looked to you and Steve, “I believe it is you who is under arrest.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Dot yelled, being led away.

“I believe she has.” James said, slightly out of breath.

“How did you get out?” Steve asked, bewilderment of his best friend’s reappearance.

“Y/n isn’t the only one who learned how to climb off balconies.” James looked at you, then at the sword. “May I have you for a moment?”

“Of course.” You nodded your head towards the bench, sitting softly. James sat beside you, hand reaching to the sword on your side. You handed it to him, his fingers tracing the seal of his father.

“You? It doesn’t make sense.” James muttered. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Your father was a wise man. He knew the union of our kingdom with theirs was wrong, but he had no diplomatic way to get out of it.” You began the story. “It was your mother’s idea to choose me. I had grown up with you, I knew how the kingdom should be led, and they knew if the time came, I would stand beside everything your father taught us, I’d stand beside you.”

“It still doesn’t make sense.” James said. “They were going to live long lives.”

You took his hands, to keep them from shaking. “I love you, Buck. I have since we were Twelve. Your parents, your sister, they all knew I’d do anything for you. So, on my Seventeenth birthday, when your betrothal was announced, they called me into the throne room late that night. Your father told me he knew it was only a matter of time before the kingdom was taken over. They didn’t know how or when, but they wanted to make sure the kingdom was protected. He gifted me the sword, taught me how to use it from then until he died.”

“So when I asked if you believed in what my father wanted for my life?” James asked, looking into your eyes.

“I knew his plan went far past you, and knew I’d get my heart broken multiple times before what he planned would come true.” You said softly. “He believed we could put this kingdom back together.”

“There’s only one way to do that.” James whispered.

“How’s that?”

“To put your heart back together first.” James leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize you were my one.”

“It’s okay. You still have my heart, Buck.”

#ssb2020 #RoyalAU

[kazablanka96]

Do you have any pwp stucky fic recs? I've been looking for some on ao3 for a while but I haven't been able to find any good pwp fics with good writing, good mature scenes and development, they're just so corny, like gimme some good plot man! x.x

Hi anon! ❤️

First of all, I wouldn’t describe a fic corny because no matter what, they are someone’s hard work and effort and there’s always something to love in everything. That being said, I understand different people have different tastes, so I searched in my stash of fic and my goal in the end was to find you ones that were more focused on the plot and character development than that on the smut part of the story. Almost all of them are E rated (and too long), so you know the good stuff are coming.

I am so sorry if these weren’t what you were asking for, but you can always send in another ask and I’d be more than happy to do another search with a different criteria in mind. And if anyone knows of a different fic the anon, or anyone really, can benefit from, please drop it in the notes!

 All the fics are under the cut because they are over 50 and that’s a long post.

These Streets ‘verse: The trials and tribulations of Police Officer Steve Rogers and his experiences with the locals in his precinct, as well as his involvement with the stupidly handsome roughneck from the ‘hood, Bucky Barnes.

The Firing Line:  When Steve’s dad is diagnosed with cancer, Steve returns to his childhood home to support his mom – a small town called Gold Cliff, Colorado. Ten years before, he left Gold Cliff behind him, left his no-longer-best-friend Bucky Barnes behind him, with the intention of never seeing him ever again. But Bucky Barnes crash-lands back into his life nonetheless, long-haired and one-armed and haunted, keeping secrets from day one.

Institutions of Love and Incarceration: The Winter Soldier has been sentenced to life without parol. His entire world had been condensed to a hot, cramped cell that he hasn’t seen the outside of in the four years since his apprehension. It’s hell. He has no means of escape, no means of terminating his suffering, and no means of distraction…that is, until he’s assigned a new guard. Steve Rogers is assigned the Winter Soldier as his singular charge.

There Is No Shortage of Blood: The long slow recovery of Bucky Barnes after his escape from HYDRA. (And the longer, slower recovery of his sex life.)

Choices We’re Given: Steve Rogers is a good man and a good agent. There’s really no excuse for the assassin in his bed.

Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same: Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

What Gladiators Fight For: A new gladiator is brought to Ludus Stark. Steve Rogers is a disgraced soldier, who refused to fight for Rome.He doesn’t want his actions decided by others anymore, and accepts death until Bucky changes his mind. Steve fights to stop Bucky being sold back to his previous master, and Tony exploits the bond blossoming between them. He makes a bargain with Steve, if he fights and wins, Bucky will spend the night with Steve in his cell.Steve wins every fight, until the finale in the Colosseum. Hes not fighting for Bucky, but his Freedom, but is Freedom worth it without Bucky by his side.

If I Was There: Steve is lonely and the number on his phone-screen is unfamiliar. He’s not the social type, not even close, yet there’s something about the man on the other side that makes him interested. He doesn’t hang up until two hours later.-Wrong number AU in which phone sex is the answer and the question is irrelevant.

the Steve Rogers problem: Bucky doesn’t consider his Steve Rogers problem as a problem so much as the solution he hadn’t realized he was hoping for to help him through the transition from the Bucky Barnes he’d been before his accident to the new, shiny version of himself.No, the problem isn’t with Captain America and The Howling Commandos fandom.The problem is the amount of porn Bucky managed to write and draw about Captain America before finding out that he’s less than one degree of separation away from Steve Rogers. ‘Less than’ as in he’s sitting across the table from him.

Prince Charming: Bucky Barnes leads quite the charmed life. He has a thriving tattoo shop, a son he adores, the world’s best dogs, and a great group of friends — almost all of whom are in relationships. And maybe he’d been the one nudging them towards each other, but there’s nothing wrong with a little match-making. The world could use more romance.As for him personally, well, he doesn’t need anyone for the long haul. Not when every girl he meets is someone who he thinks would be perfect for someone else.But then Steve Rogers comes into his shop looking for some ink, and maybe that’s the problem right there. Maybe what he’s looking for in a relationship isn’t a girl at all.

Heaven and That Other Thing: Bucky Barnes is the owner of a cat sanctuary in Brooklyn, an ordinary guy by the Avengers’ low standards, and a growing problem for America’s favourite captain. Steve Rogers is publicly straight, endlessly bored, and has a habit of not fully thinking through his decisions when Bucky is around.

Keep Your Enemies Close: Pierce was an intelligent man. If the Asset was going to start remembering Rogers, it was best to give him an assignment other than the simple, point and shoot. The Asset’s Mission: Pretend he was James “Bucky” Barnes, best friend to Steve Rogers. He was to evaluate Rogers and see if Rogers could be used by HYDRA…or be put down if the Asset thought otherwise.The Asset now has to pretend to be Bucky Barnes, unknowing that he is in fact the man that Steve has been searching for all along. Pierce instructed the Asset to gain trust, observe, and report. How far is the Asset supposed to go to avoid his cover being blown? He guesses he’s just going to have to find out…

Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts: When the House of Barnes is left in massive debt after the death of George Barnes, their oldest son and heir, Bucky, is forced to sacrifice his own hopes and dreams by entering an arranged married to Steve Rogers. Steve seems kind enough, has a prominent job in the government, and was even voted Society’s Best Catch. But the House Rogers is significantly higher in status than Bucky’s family, which means Bucky is marrying up in Society, and marrying up doesn’t only come with rewards, it also comes with certain…expectations and losses–some of which Bucky might be willing to do anything to avoid. And those opportunities might come his way.Unless, of course, he actually starts falling in love with his new husband…

A Myriad of Misdecisions: “My parents thought I was working for an insurance company in New York when really I was joining the CIA so I just sort of never mentioned when I met you on an assassination-gone-wrong and now we’ve been married for five years and they still don’t know you exist, this has gotten wildly out of hand and you won’t stop laughing about it”

Catfish: Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn’t expect is a guy using Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating site?Not like it’s really him, right?

Give ‘Em Hope: Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve’s better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It’s illegal. It’s wrong. But it’s giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve’s going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive.He needs him to.

A Love I Never Had: Detective Steve Rogers is not a cop if he’s dead. A Modern Frankenstein AU; or, the Modern Prometheus

After Hours: Steve wishes Bucky wouldn’t look at him the way he does – a deliberate gaze, subtly digging his top teeth into that pouty bottom lip; following his every move like a lion watches a gazelle. It’s been going on for months, perhaps longer… Steve talks, and Bucky listens. Well, that’s the point – Bucky’s supposed to be listening. Steve’s just doing his job, after all… No harm in that.The problem is that it’s no innocent gesture, the way Bucky will have the top of his pen tracing the outline of his mouth… It’s also not innocent at all when Steve turns to look out at the sea of heads while he’s speaking and catches the quickest glimpse of the brunet sneaking a peek at his ass. And Bucky doesn’t even pretend to be bashful about it. He just meets Steve’s eyes and smirks – just the tiniest hint of a thing.

The Match Game: Steve meets and promptly falls for Bucky Barnes, new resident in his apartment building. The one who makes him feel like he only wants to be with one person, forever. He just doesn’t know how to make that happen. Lucky for him, he has friends who… tease him mercilessly. And then help. A lot. Steve gets a lot of opportunities to get to know his new neighbor and thinks everything is going great, until Bucky reveals to him his own long-term relationship ended badly, and he doesn’t want another…but he might be up for a friends-with-benefits deal. 

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners: They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

Screaming Words (Left Unspoken): Living as a fugitive is hard. Living as a man who has to wake the love of his life from cryo is harder. Why? The codes in Bucky’s brain don’t have a fix yet, but Steve has worse news to deliver. Bucky’s dying slowly from self-destruct protocols inside him. Now, it’s a race against time to save Bucky once and for all.And maybe finally tell Bucky that Steve’s been in love with him since he was a sixteen-year-old kid in Brooklyn. Oh and not get extradited by the UN from Wakanda. That’d also be great.

Winter Gorgon: For as long as Steve could remember, all he ever wanted to do was what was right. So when he hears about his father’s old regiment being held as POW’s by the Nazis, he’s determined to put what Doctor Erskine gave him to good use and goes AWOL to rescue them.But the 107th isn’t all he finds there. Deep in the labs is a very unusual prisoner; one with snakes in his hair and a mask nailed to his face. Despite the man’s monstrous visage, Steve can’t in good conscience leave him to the enemy. That one act of mercy will change his life, the course of the war, and even the future of the world.

That Would Be Enough: Bucky Barnes, a Columbia University graduate with a Masters Degree in Education, is in his fourth year of teaching AP US History at Shield Academy, a private school in the very heart of the Connecticut valley in the bucolic town of Barkstead. He also helps run the Russian Club with his colleague and best friend, Natasha Romanov. He’s got amazing friends, three nephews he adores, and a beautiful little apartment. The only thing Bucky would change about his life? His luck in love. It’s been two years since Bucky ended an emotionally abusive relationship and he’s just now starting to feel that his heart has healed enough to try dating again. Then, a new Art History and English teacher arrives with tattoos he doesn’t like talking about, a body like a Greek god, and some secrets of his own, and Bucky knows he’s done for. Cue pining, sass, and a ton of Hamilton references.

Heat of the Night: Steve is a cop. Bucky is the kept boyfriend of the super rich bad guy. Bucky doesn’t really have any information because his sole job is to look good when they go out. But he gets Steve’s card and he calls him and Steve meets him for lunch and coffee and dinner and Steve knows this could be a bad thing. He knows Bucky could be a trap. But the way he talks, how he smiles at Steve, laughs like it’s a sound he’s not used to making…Steve thinks he could be worth it. Steve thinks he could be worth everything

The North Star: “You got plans to retire, Cap? Find a nice little beach in the Indies and a good supply of rum? Couple of pretty girls in grass skirts to dance for you.”.“Sam,” Steve mumbles, covering his face with his hand.“I’m sorry, a couple of pretty boys?” Sam grins wickedly.“Sam!” Steve looks scandalised, which gets him nothing but laughter from his Quartermaster. “You’re fired. Go throw yourself overboard this instant.”

Lemon Meringue Lies: Being a server at a high-end restaurant is working out well for Steve. All he has to do now is convince Bucky he’s good enough to work as chef in the same restaurant. Meanwhile, Bucky has his own issues to deal with. Namely: trying his damndest to dig them out of poverty, make sure Steve’s health is on the up and up, and not acknowledging his very longstanding desire for his best friend that is slowly eating him up inside.

Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty: Steve Rogers. Cheerfully Slutty. But not going to take your shit about it. Bucky Barnes. Voted most likely to fall in love first.

Sorry, Not Sorry: All Steve Rogers ever wanted was to do what’s right. So when he drops in to volunteer at the Brooklyn VA Outpatient Center, he’s surprised to learn some veterans actually resent Captain America and everything he represents. One veteran in particular is determined to make sure Steve understands just how much he dislikes him.

Lucky Seven: Captain America trashes his motorcycle a lot. Tony says he’ll fix it, then never gets around to it and just buys him a new one. Steve, the Depression-era kid, can’t stand the waste and goes looking for somewhere near him in Brooklyn where he can get his bike fixed. That’s how he finds Red Star Bike Repair, and the hot Russian-immigrant bike racer who runs it: all long hair and muscles and tattoos. And for the first time since he woke from the ice, Steve feels a connection to someone; a comfort in the other man’s silences and his space, an attraction in his sheer skill at racing. But James Barnes isn’t exactly who he seems…

Above the Rain and Roses: But tonight, Steve is visiting The Armory. An exclusive club where unattached Doms can go and enjoy themselves with a good sub for the night. Not exactly the place Steve expects to find his one true love.Then again, fate might have other plans, and one sub might get in way over his head making assumptions about this Dom.

A Marriage of Ice and Fire: Steve Rogers hates James Barnes. The feeling’s mutual; their families have been at war for longer than they’ve been alive. But King Odin has had enough. He orders the two of them wed to end the fighting.It’s not enough that they have to look at each other’s faces without spitting; the King has declared the year’s tournament in their honor. They’ll have to lead the events together. They’ll be wed in front of everyone.

The Commander’s Omega: Steve Rogers is struck by a persistent headache as the dawn rises over DC.So are—simultaneously—Natasha Romanov in the Muscovite night, James Barnes in the dull grey of a Berlin afternoon, Tony Stark stumbling out of his Afghan cave, Bruce Banner in the crushing heat of the Nevada desert, Clint Barton squinting up at the Vegas lights, Loki Laufeyson under the Scandinavian sun, and Prince T'Challa amidst the West African rainforest.Surely it’s nothing but an odd coincidence.

Oh Can’t You See, You Belong To Me: Bucky Barnes has recently moved to New York and things are looking up. He’s got a great new job working for Tony Stark, he has a nice apartment, and his boyfriend Peter is fun. He just needs some friends. Unfortunately Steve Rogers doesn’t seem to want to be just friends.

Echoes In Our Minds: Steve Rogers is struck by a persistent headache as the dawn rises over DC.So are—simultaneously—Natasha Romanov in the Muscovite night, James Barnes in the dull grey of a Berlin afternoon, Tony Stark stumbling out of his Afghan cave, Bruce Banner in the crushing heat of the Nevada desert, Clint Barton squinting up at the Vegas lights, Loki Laufeyson under the Scandinavian sun, and Prince T'Challa amidst the West African rainforest.Surely it’s nothing but an odd coincidence.

Leg Day: The one where Sam is Bucky’s long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.

Give a Little, Take a Little: Bucky’s nearly thirty and has never been spanked. For most people, this wouldn’t be a pressing concern. Bucky is not most people.

Trained on You: Bucky Barnes is disabled veteran who’s trying to learn how to live his life now without his left arm. His best friend Natasha pushes him to build up the strength and confidence he’d lost along with his limb at the Rally Health and Wellness Center with the help of top notch trainer/physical therapist Sam Wilson.Bucky knew it’d be hard work. What he didn’t realize was just how difficult it’d be to concentrate on his own rehabilitation at the innocuous, easygoing gym. But after he first lays eyes on new trainer and walking wet dream Steve Rogers, it’s all he can do not to fall face first on the treadmill.Working out had never gotten Bucky so worked up before. Go hard or go home? Yeah, he’s definitely going home hard.

Where There’s Smoke: Steve is a Brooklyn firefighter who is about to be saddled with a new, rookie crewmate. James Barnes is that rookie, just looking for a fresh start at a new station. Steve’s friends think they know what’s best for him…start dating his new crewmate. Steve thinks they’re crazy…or possibly right. But events from James’s recent past may pose a threat to any designs they have on each other.

Under the Bridges of Fame: For better or for worse (usually worse), Steve Rogers has been the most famous guy in the room for a while. And though newsreels have given way to YouTube, people’s reactions haven’t changed much in seventy-some years. Steve’s become an expert at keeping his head down and getting on with his life.A head-on collision on a busy street sends books flying and sweeps Steve off his feet. The point of impact has a name: James. A charming mess of long hair, thick glasses, and a crooked, not-quite-smile. If he recognizes Steve, he chooses not to comment, placing him firmly in Steve’s good graces. As far as Steve can tell, they might be Bogie and Bacall all over again, save for the group of idiots with selfie sticks who surround them. But for once, the request isn’t for Steve.Which begs the question: if James is James, then who the hell is Bucky?

Keep Making Trouble ‘Till You Find What You Love:  “No no no, hear me out,” Bucky says. “You wanna get back at them, right? Imagine the following: We date, fall madly in love, then have the most horrendous breakup in history and make them deal with that. They’ll feel terrible because they set us up, and we get to eat free ice cream and see their faces when we eventually tell them we pulled one over them,” Bucky finishes with a smug grin. “That’s a terrible plan,” Steve says.

Trust Enough: So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself. Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired. Well fuck.

Took my love, took it down: The problem, Bucky thinks now that he has most of his memories back, is that his whole entire world has always revolved around Steve Rogers. Steve has been always been half of Bucky’s identity. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ best friend. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ wingman. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ teammate. And now, well, now Steve had other people to fill those positions.

These underdog hearts: It starts in October: the sun is shining, the leaves are falling, and Steve Rogers is Captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Push It Real Good: The way Steve had to steel himself to ask the question made Bucky a little wary. “Will you be my partner for a Lamaze class?“For a few long moments, Bucky just blinked at him, not knowing which question to ask first. Finally he went with the biggest question on his mind. “What?”

I just met you (and this is crazy): After Steve gets outed by a grainy cell phone picture, it takes the media less than 24 hours to discover Captain America’s secret relationship with James Barnes: classical musician, teen heartthrob, and son of a former president.The only problem? Steve has never met James Barnes in his life.

We Never Had a Choice (But I Choose You): When Bucky Barnes is abducted by political activists, the circumstances are simple enough. Desperation breeds all sorts of terrible decisions, after all, and Bucky’s captor is clearly woefully out of his depth. Maybe, just maybe, he can talk his way to freedom, but the more Bucky learns about the circumstances of his capture, the more complicated things seem to get. On the run and forced to trust the man who abducted him, Bucky comes to realize that kidnapping is the least of his worries.

Someone To Watch Over Me: One cold, winter’s night, Steve Rogers, retired Special Forces operative, finds an unconscious young man in the woods surrounding his property. In the morning, the stranger wakes up and Steve is left with plenty of questions about the beautiful young man with guileless eyes and a sheepish smile, who speaks with self-deprecating humor as though there isn’t a bruise on his face and restraint marks on his wrist.

A Hatemance For The Ages: This is what happens when you find your soulmate… and instead of birds singing and roses blooming, you discover they’re an insufferable jerk. But an insufferable jerk that you low-key really want to bang, if nothing else because MAYBE THEN THEY WOULD SHUT UP.

Home Is Wherever I’m With You: This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he’s hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he’s ever seen in his life living right next door.

Sugar Sweet: College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve’s a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference… But that doesn’t stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree. AKA a Sugar Daddy AU that no one was asking for.

Parallels: At the end of “Captain America: Winter Soldier,” Steve fell from the helicarrier into the water. He wakes up, however, in an alternate universe where he and Bucky are dating.

Parallels 2: Bucky wakes up from cryo in a parallel universe - in which he works at a coffeeshop and Steve is his favorite customer.

… and I know the ask clearly asked for E rated fics, but those are some PG-13 ones with some solid plot and development, or at least for me, that I think worth mentioning:

It’s No Coincidence: The kids immediately scream, “Trick-or-Treat” before they see who opens the door.The strange resident looks between the two kids, then at the adults, and his eyes widen in horror.“It’s October already? “Okay, Bucky thinks.This guy is probably high.

A Working Romance: Eddie just wants to make a good documentary about good, normal people. Tony Stark just wants to manage his branch and make his dad proud. Bucky Barnes just wants to sell paper without pining over the receptionist. Steve Rogers just wants to draw superheroes and marry Peggy Carter. Sam Wilson just wants Bucky and Steve to get their act together.AKA The Office AU no one asked for.

Leave Me On The Mountain:  Bucky is certain that he’s about to die, cold and lost in this mountain forest. But just as he thinks that the wolves have him, someone finds him and takes him in.

Thawing: Heroin. It’s a helluva drug.

The Necrofloranomicon: Bucky didn’t want much. Just to keep his head down, to sell his scavenged flowers in peace, and to stay off Shield’s radar. His life would have been a lot easier if his flowers weren’t dead and if being a necromancer wasn’t illegal, but easy or not, he was getting by. Steve didn’t want much, either. He was happy working for Shield, he had good friends, and overall his life was going just about the way he wanted it. Problem was, being happy with your life was generally an invitation for fate to throw a spanner in the works—and in Steve’s specific case, it was going to be a spanner named Bucky.(A love story about flowers, trust, and magic and the choices we make about doing what’s right.)

… aaaand that’s it folks! Sorry for the long post, and again, if anyone has a fic or seven to rec, please write it in the notes for us all to enjoy! 

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky au #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #answered

[the-blackest-spider]

SEND ME A 💗 AND I’LL TALK ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP OUR MUSES HAVE.  | Accepting

@shieldshawk​ left a message:  💗 -because I adore Tasha and so does Clint.

My first Clint ever and the longest too on this blog, seriously you’ve been here forever and both Natasha and I are glad!

And the adoration is returned ♥

Clint is just, everything. Natasha wouldn’t be the person she is now without him in any of her verses. He’s shown her humanity, he given her chances when he shouldn’t have. He’s given her a family by making her a part of his and she owes him more than she can ever repay, even though she tries.

They love each other, but it’s not a sort of love that can be defined by the typical ways, it is its own sort, special and unique.

MCU: There’s still a part of her that will forever be in a state of disbelief that he gave her the option to as he no doubt put it “come with me if you want to live”. Some days she’s certain he made the wrong choice, but then he’ll remind her of the fact that no, no he didn’t. She knows she however did not make the wrong choice. Clint saved her. He helped her find her way and was the second person in her like that got her to see she was more than just the weapon the Red Room made her to be, the first of course being James Barnes when he was training her and they fell in love. But Clint advanced that fact, had the chance to more than Bucky did obviously given situations. Clint reminded Natasha of her humanity that she discovered in the arms of the Soldier.

When he got taken and brain washed by Loki, she was so angry, mostly at herself. She should have been there and taken his place and she was willing to do so. She almost asked Loki on the Helicarrier to let Clint go and take her in his place, but the situation didn’t progress in a way that she could do so and she wasn’t certain Loki would be of his word if she offered. So instead she ended up playing things a different way and managed to get her best friend back in the long run. That is one of three times she’s held back slightly in a fight (the second was trying to stop Bucky in Civil War and then against Clint again in Germany).

If it hadn’t been for Clint in dealing with Ultron, Natasha isn’t certain she would’ve recovered as well as she did from Wanda’s attack. Again Clint saved her, another debt to be paid.

She wasn’t surprised to find Clint on Steve’s side of things when they faced off, she expected it. And she has a feeling he knew she’d play the traitor in the end and help Steve out. Clint knows her the best after all.

She will never regret sacrificing herself on Vormir not only for him, but for everyone. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she had allowed him to fall. It had to be her, there was no other way even if he refuses to believe it.

Clint has brought so much to Natasha’s life, he’s helped her in more ways than she can even count. She’s grateful to him endlessly so. She understands the meaning of feeling blessed by being an honorary Barton and being an Aunt to his three amazing kids and having a sister and sometimes Mother figure in Laura.

Star Wars-

Jedi Stuff:  Again best friends, I’m sure that Clint decided this quiet girl with the pretty red hair and green eyes was going to be his friend and determinedly made it happen. He’s always hitting her up for adventures, making sure she’s having a good time and not always being super serious. Natasha knows she can find Clint when she wants to laugh or feel better about something. He’s a nice constant.

Jedi and Bounty Hunter: Annoying Jedi. But she adores him, he’s so… not the typical Jedi and why he keeps hitting her up for things is beyond her. But he does and she allows it because he’s nice, funny and interesting. She likes how easy it is to be around him and that he doesn’t act like he’s superior or anything like that, what she’d expect from a Jedi. He makes her laugh and again breaks that serious veneer she likes to hide behind often.

Final Fantasy VII- At first Natasha was a little reluctant to get paired up with someone, but the more she worked with Clint the more she couldn’t imagine not working with him. Sure she still does her deep black ops stuff solo, but regular Turk work, it’s nice to have someone to carry the load with and to keep it entertaining. She also never expected to get basically adopted into his family, but that’s how it works apparently and family dinner nights can only be missed if she’s on an assignment…

Well until she makes her choices in their main verse, but she still keeps an eye on him as best she can from the shadows, same as she tries for everyone else. She’s grown to love him same as others she has and he will always have a place in her heart. He’s another one that she needs to face, but somehow she knows they’ll be okay despite what she’s done. But at the same time she doesn’t want to put him or his family in any sort of danger and so she keeps her distance for the time being.

As for other verses, don’t think she doesn’t know he dropped in on Cloud! Natasha both can and can’t believe Clint did that, but then again he’s as protective of her as she is of him (in all the verses everywhere), and so it makes sense he’s popping up and checking on the other people in her life, especially those who seem to really capture her interest and her heart.

Also thank Shiva for Barton specialty cookies because sometimes she’s sure she nor anyone on the Turk floor would survive some weeks without them.

She’s also pretty sure Vincent, in that little verse saw to it that she got partnered with Clint because he knew that the fun loving, but down to business when necessary Turk would be beneficial for her situation and help her further in ways she needs beyond what he as a trainer could do and after Vincent disappeared, Clint was there and willing to keep looking with her for him if they could have.

---------

All in all, Clint is very vital to Natasha. One of those important figures in her life and her story, the second of those figures being James Barnes. Both these men helped her remember that she is human and capable of more than just being a killing machine. Natasha is all too certain that if Clint hadn’t come into her life, she would’ve ended up dead a very long time ago.

#widow responses #widow memes #shieldshawk #mcuverse #swv #ffviiverse

[jordanlahey]

King With No Crown (1)

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Y/n is just another girl in Brooklyn nothing special, she went to school, got good grade and has a well paying job in an office. She is aware that the streets of Brooklyn aren’t as safe as they use to be especially when the “King” has eyes everywhere. On a works night out she stumbles into a situation and now she can’t get out of it, she’d be signing her own death certificate if she tried.

Chapter Warnings: Language, mentions of violence.

Word count: 2833

A/N:Here is part one, enjoy. Tag List is still open.

KWNC - @tuyetnhivo , @sgtjaamesbaarnes @theonelittleone , @sparkling-gayyyy , @dragoste-lunes , @chims-kookies , @hey-nonny-nonny @jsmith509, @dudeodin

Permanent - @doowneey , @m-a-t-91 , @fuckthatfeeling , @jitterbuck , @ria132love @pvnk-bivch , @etherealmandi, @pri00r @5aftermidnight , @thisismysecrethappyplace @dtftheavengers , @typicaltrashbagg, @lanijoyxo

Bucky Barnes - @release-the-cathyrchkn 

Series Masterlist

The rain pelleted heavy off your window, waking you up from your deep sleep. Looking over at your night stand you realised you had woken up 5 minutes before your alarm was supposed to go off, you thought there was really no point in going back to sleep so you got up and headed to the kitchen to make yourself a steaming cup of coffee to prepare yourself for the day ahead. 

After getting changed into your works clothes which only ever consisted of a black pencil skirt that hugged your curves just right and a white blouse that flowed nicely over your chest but not revealing much cleavage and a fitted blazer in case it got chillier in the office, you did your hair, applied minimal makeup to your face, slipped on your favourite pair of black heels and grabbed your bag as you headed for the door.

The rain didn’t look like it was going to clear up anytime soon so you decided to head on over to the apartment car park to take your car. Your car wasn’t anything fancy it was only a light blue Fiat 500, your job did pay you enough that you could buy some luxuries but you preferred to save up your wages only ever taking it out for a food shop or for rent. You only worked for one of the biggest companies owned by the “King of Brooklyn” whoever the hell that is, you don’t exactly know who you’re working for but you didn’t mind the boring days in an office at all and your boss spared that detail mostly because the “King” never visits the office only gets people to come in and check up on things.

Parking your car, you grab your bag and ran for the door avoiding getting soaked by the rain which was now pouring it down. You greeted the receptionist and walked up the stairs to your office occasionally bidding other workers and clients ‘good morning.’

You sighed as you took your seat at your desk and started up your computer, as you waited You organised your desk with files and folders that you were due to complete. You were interrupted by your boss slamming his palms on your desk which drew a lot of people's attention still.

“Good morning Y/n.” He chippered, he was a bright and happy man and had a lot of energy throughout the day and sometimes gets too over excited about work. “Just giving you a reminder it’s the works night out tonight, are you still up for coming?” He smiled but it was forced he always tries to persuade anyone to come to works night out and if you didn’t he will nip at your head for ages.

“Good morning and of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You smiled back, he seemed satisfied and left you to carry on with your work. Sighing again you started your work like every other day, like a zombie and everything went like clockwork. You avoided looking at the clock as you found that if you kept looking at it time went slower and therefore staying at work longer which no one likes.

However, something did catch your eye and that was the men exiting the elevator. Usually you wouldn’t care for who leaves or enters the building but these men didn’t work here nor were they clients. They wore expensive 2 piece black suits paired with a black tie, you didn’t live under a rock you knew expensive clothes when you see them. One of them was really tall and had great muscles you could see it through his blazer that you guessed was a size or two smaller than his, the other guy had dark skin and was a little shorter not by much who had

also wore the same as the blonde but he wore dark sunglasses which kind of lacked their purpose sinces it’s raining outside.

They both seemed to have spotted you and made their way over to your desk, you quickly looked back at your computer screen hoping they would go to someone else but you were wrong.

“Good morning ma’am.” The Blonde spoke, his voice was stern and deep. You had no choice but to look up from your screen and smiled at the two gentlemen at your desk.

“Good morning, is there something I can help you with?” You spoke softly, you weren’t the receptionist why the hell are they over here.

“Actually yes we’re looking for Mr-”

“Gentlemen, I’m right here. Please come to my office and we can talk privately.” Your boss popped up behind them and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right but you tried your best to ignore it and get all your work over and done with. 

You were done for the day and packed your belongings as headed for the elevator. Shortly after the doors began to close an arm made its way in the gap of the elevator doors so it would open again and revealed the two men that were at your desk earlier that day. You wondered what took them so long to be talking to your boss.

“Nice to see you again…?” The blonde flashed a smile at you, the long pause only meant he was waiting for your name.

“Y/n.”

“Ah Y/n, I’m Steve this is Sam.” You greeted quickly and the you stood their awkwardly till you reached the car park floor. What made you even more uncomfortable was that they followed you to your car and your car plus one other was the only ones on that floor and to make matters worse they parked right next to yours. Seriously you have the whole car park to choose from!

You quickly got into your car and and started the engine and drove off in a hurry worried that they were going to follow you to your home. You can’t be too careful these days. 

You got home round about 6:45pm and you had enough to time to have a hour nap and shower before you start getting ready for your night out. Undressing yourself you put your work clothes in the washing basket and headed for the shower, before you could go in you wrapped the towel around you as you waited for the water to heat up which takes a while. You hummed a tune as you washed your hair and body occasionally singing a verse or two before humming the rest again, then you shut off the water and wrapped the towel around you again before throwing on some sweatpants, a t-shirt and flopping down on your bed but before you could pass out you set an alarm on your phone for an hour later for your night out.

The sound of your alarm filled the room followed by a groan, you really wished your boss wasn’t bothered about everyone showing up for a works night out but when there’s alcohol involved everyone is happy. Except you, you get bored quickly at the night outs and alcohol wouldn’t lift your spirits at all.

You made your way offer to your closet and looked through all your nice clothes, trying to decide if you should go with a skirt or dress? ‘Dress it is, all my skirts are for work.’ You though and started pulling out two dresses, one was red bodycon dress that laced up at the back and the other the same but in black without the lace up back. It took you nearly 10 minutes to decide to go with the red one, you thought it was time for a change and you wear too much black anyways, you paired the dress with a simple pair of black heels and a matching red choker.

You started on your makeup it was a night out which meant you applied more than what you usually do but then have to suffer the consequences with your skin after. You chose to give your hair some loose curls and you didn’t much care if they fell flat throughout the night, you weren’t trying to impress anyone and your hook up days were so behind you. The next decision was whether you were driving tonight or if you should get a cab or just walk which would probably be the best option. You save money on gas and you don’t have to pay someone to drive you home when you don’t live that far away from the club speaking of which you check your phone and you had 20 mins to be at the club or your boss will nip at your neck for being late. You were organised enough that you didn’t need to rush out the door and your coat was hanging on the pegs on the way out anyway.

Now you regret wearing a dress. The cold air was nipping at your legs and other parts of exposed skin, you had forgotten that it had been raining the whole day and the ground was still wet but you were glad that the rain finally stopped. On your way you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched and it made you feel uneasy, you started to be on your guard for anything you even occasionally looked back to see if you were being followed but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You wondered if you felt uneasy because the so called ‘King’ had eyes everywhere, you’d think he made the streets safer But it’s the opposite. Your uneasiness came to an end when you found your colleagues standing outside the club waiting for you.

“Y/n, glad you could make it.” Your boss shouted, he was already tipsy you could smell the alcohol off him.

“It’s not like I really had a choice.” You joked, he wasn’t going to remember that on Monday so you can say what you want and he won’t give a damn.

“Let’s get you a drink.”

By the time everyone had arrived you were already bored out of your mind and desperate to get home but you were a nice person and still not tipsy enough so you might as well look out for your fellow colleagues. So there you sat at the bar, on your own,  holding an empty glass in your hand and simply watching everyone have a better time than you.

“Do you want a refill?” A dark husky voice spoke beside you, you turned to look who that voice belonged to. Now you weren’t going to lie the man was attractive as hell but you weren’t planning on taking anyone home with you nor going home with anyone but if you were that he was the one. He had dark brown hair that wasn’t long but wasn’t short either, it looked fluffy if you were being honest and he had really blue eyes that you could get lost in and some stubble which just adds to his attractiveness. He definitely had money in the banks cause his three piece suit wasn’t second hand or cheap despite it just being a plain black three piece with a white shirt underneath.

“Uh-no thanks, I think I’ll just stick to the water for the rest of the night.” You put your glass back on the bar table but you couldn’t stop trailing your eyes all over the mystery man. The man chuckled at your comment and shook his head.

“Now aren’t you supposed to be having fun? You look bored out of your mind.” He spoke, he was right though.

“True but i’m not having fun, I’m looking forward to sneaking my way out so my boss doesn’t see me and I can go home.” You said bluntly. His night outs used to be fun then you got bored of the same old thing every damn time.

“I like your honesty. C’mon one more drink, then you could go out the back he won’t see you leave.” He swirled a glass in front of your face and you gave in.

“Fine one more I suppose.” You turned to look at the bartender and opened your mouth but the man next to you interrupted.”

“One whisky for me and for the lady…” He turned to look at you.

“Whisky for me too.” You flashed a smile at both the gentlemen. Mystery man was shocked at your choice of drink but didn’t argue.

“You’re my kind of girl. Whisky and honesty, what else are you hiding?” He smirked at you then when the drinks came you pulled out your purse but he insisted on paying.

“I don’t mean to be rude but you didn’t give me your name.” You finally asked, if you were going to have a drink with this man you might as well know his name but the face he gave you confused you like you were supposed to know who he was.

“James but my friends call me Bucky. And you, dollface?”

“I’m Y/n and I don’t have a lot friends that call me any nicknames.” You laughed at your own irony. How sad. 

The rest of the night you and Bucky spoke but you didn’t continue drinking with him you were on the water now. Mostly he was intrigued about you and he wouldn’t answer any of your questions and if he did they just created more questions.

“I should probably be getting home now, it’s getting late.” You drink the last sip of your water and collected your coat and purse, Bucky also stood up with you giving you a lopsided grin. “I’m not coming home with you and your not coming home with me.” You looked at him with an uncomfortable smile.

“I understand at least let me walk you to your car or cab.” His hand was at the small of your back as ushered you to the club door then stood with you outside. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Oh I was planning on walking home, it’s not that far really.”

“These streets aren’t safe for a girl like you.”  Those words lingered in the cold air, you knew that the street weren’t safe but what did he mean by ‘a girl like you’

“I’ll be fine it’s really not that far but thank you for keeping me company and making my night better.” You smiled kindly at him despite him making you feel uncomfortable at times. You turned around and started walking in the direction of your apartment.

Bucky stood in the street, watching you leave like a predator watching his prey. When you were out of sight Bucky took out his phone and dialled a number.

“She’s prettier than you said. I want her.” He hung up the phone and started walking back to his home. Of course being the King of Brooklyn he wasn’t fussed about going home cause he never was alone, he’d find a girl in need of attention and bring her home and fuck her then make her leave when it’s over, he wasn’t fussed. But you. Oh he wanted you not only squirming underneath him but alongside him. 

It was getting colder every step you took and there was hardly any people walking around. They would all be in clubs or at home but the quiet was scaring you slightly and the only noise was the wind blowing harshly passed your ears and the sound of...yelling? You passed a dark alleyway but stopped in your tracks when you heard the same aggressive yelling and the sound of punches hitting skin and bone. You took off your heels to avoid being heard and you hurried down the alley but no was between the two buildings they were behind one of them so you hid behind the brick wall watching as two men beat up another. You recognised the two men it was Steve and Sam but the other guy who was getting the shit beaten out of him you had no idea.

“You messes with the wrong man and now you pay with your life.” You has you back against the wall as you heard Steve’s voice and you listen in horror of a gun being fired. Everything seemed to stop and you waited till you heard the footsteps fade away before running to the body on the floor.

You checked for a pulse and he had one but it was faint, the man was going to die whether you took him to the hospital or not.

“Are...You an...Angel?” The man spoke between breaths as she struggled to stay conscious.

“I’m sorry no.” He smiled and he lost all consciousness and you left. 

In the distance you were being watched, your every move from leaving the dead body to going passed a kebab shop then to your apartment. They waited outside till your bedroom light went off and you drifted off into a deep slumber.

#marvel #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic series #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes au #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Mobster!bucky barnes #MOBSTER!AU

[scribeofmorpheus]

As Fate Would Have It (Part 16)

Paring: WinterSoldier!Bucky x Spy!Reader

Catch Up here | Masterlist

Words: 4.1k | Note: Reader’s alias is Elle/Helen

A/N: It is with great pleasure that I can finally, finally, say that this chapter was actually the first ever chapter I wrote for this series (before it was even a series tbh). All the previous chapters were meant to be simple, world-building prequels that spiralled out of control! lol. Writing just turns out like that sometimes.

Warnings: Violence, themes of PTSD, brainwashing, mentions of sex, terribly written action scenes and annngggst?

Note: I chose to call Bucky’s POV the 'Winter Soldier' because I firmly believe that at this point they are two separate people.

Songs: White Rabbit | The Winter Soldier | Siberian Overture

Feel free to ask to be tagged, leave a like, reblog or comment ♥

~Brooklyn~

You looked out the window overlooking a garden filled with yellow roses while a cup of tea cooled between your palms. Your reflection looking back at you with a blank expression, your hair still as white as snow. The steam reaching up to tickle your nose with the notes of chamomile and peppermint.

"How're the kids?" You asked the woman sat next to you. Her face framed by glasses that looked alien against her heart-shaped face. Grey hairs growing in number at a more frequent pace.

"Jack's finally got a job," she sounded thankful. "And Ellie just transfered to Brown."

You smiled warmly, "I told you he'd land on his feet."

"About god damn time, that kid nearly drove me up the wall."

You tutted, "Remember what the doctor said about minding that temper, it's not good for your blood pressure Sal."

"Keepin' my blood pressure in check is Hal's job," she said with a little sass as her thumb rubbed against her wedding ring. "You going somewhere?"

"Why'd you ask?"

"You only come over before you disappear for a while."

You chuckled, "Paris. Got a new job. Protective detail."

Sally looked out the window wistfully, her age showing clear as day, "Hal always promised we'd go to Paris for our honeymoon."

You turned to your old friend and nudged her with your elbow, "If you promise to keep your blood pressure in check, I'll take you someday."

"Someday for you isn't the same for me," Sally noted, looking at your reflection thoughtfully. "Hard to believe we were once the same age."

You stood from the chair and put on your bomber jacket, "We still are."

Sally took your cup to the sink, "Yes, you just discovered the secret to eternal youth. Good thing Annie isn't with us no more, or else she'd lock you in her basement till you told her your secret, god rest her soul."

You laughed half-heartedly. You placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing your motorcycle keys, "Try not to be too hard on Jack while I'm gone. Oh, and… uh, give Hal my best!"

"Will do, hun! Oh and Y/N!" She walked over to you and handed you a folded piece of photo paper. "I got Ellie to help me figure out how to use one of them copiers. It's a little darker than the original but..."

You looked down at the last photo you'd ever taken. Early 1942; you, Sally, Hal, Bucky, Steve and Annie stood under a going away banner that read:‘Good Luck At Your New Job!!’

"Two exclamation marks..." you mused lightly.

You left Sally's house and slid your helmet over your head.

***

The cryo-chamber unhooked with a metallic hiss, frost smoking out like fog as the cylindrical containment was lifted up. The hydraulics of the levers arm let out a groan of air. Yellow light bathing the room.

"Ghaaaaahh!" The Winter Soldier screamed in agony as the machine fastened over his right eye flashed blinding streaks of white light into his corneas.

"Zhelaniye," a man dressed in a decorated military uniform read out from a red leather-bound book -most likely a Major.

Longing

The screams persisted as a few more flashes of white light flickered.

"Rzhavyy."

Rusted

The screaming stopped.

"Semnadtsat’."

Seventeen

The machine gave off an electrical whizz as it dismantled away from the metal armed soldier's face. His breathing was raged, animalistic. His jaw still shut tight from the aftershocks of pain but it was his eyes that unsettled the most, seething with unbridled rage.

The Major continued reading out the words with no care for the soldier's disposition, "Rassvet. Pech’. Devyat. Dobroserdechnyy. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu. Odin. Gruzovoy vagon."

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.

The soldier in the chair had steadied his breathing now. Each breath calm, composed, sinister.

"Dobroye utro, Soldat." The Major said monotonously, slamming the red book shut.

Good morning, Soldier.

The soldier kept his eyes glued to something infinitesimal in front of him with almost inhuman stillness, "Ya gotov otvechat’." His voice was as rough as gravel.

Ready to comply

The Major walked over to a table and retrieved a file and opened it to the middle part. He placed the docket in front of the Winter Soldier, the file making a slapping noise with the table.

There were two photographs fastened to the docket with paper clips. The larger of the two photographs, and coincidentally of better quality, was of a rounding man with a thinning hairline and thick moustache. The smaller photo wasn't in colour or of a high resolution, the only features that could be made out were that it was an image of a woman wearing a trench coat almost as white as her hair, large glasses obscuring half her face.

"Your target is this man. He's a French politician."

The Winter Soldier stood, his metal finger tapping heavily on the photograph. "Understood."

"Soldat. Take extra precaution. He's hired extra security. Someone we've had trouble within the past. She has made quite a name for herself due to her illusive nature. No one knows where she came from, who trained her or her real name. The intelligence community has taken to calling her the White Rabbit."

The soldier flinched, his brain scrambling for a moment as a woman’s voice he didn't recognise spoke out as clear as day: "The little rabbit?"

Internally, a high pitched noise generated a distorted image of blood-stained lips opening into an unnerving smile. Dead eyes staring up at the sky.

His head jerked to the side in a ridged motion before it snapped back in place, strands of long raven hair sticking to the sweat on his face. The noise fizzled out of his brain as though it never existed. He looked up to his superior officer and shrugged off the incident that just occurred, "Understood."

~Paris, France~

You followed your client into the VIP lounge area of a prestigious club. As soon as you walked through the bead roped entranced, a ring of smoke diffused around your face, a trail of white smoke leading back to a patron sitting on a couch blowing out expertly crafted smoke rings from a hookah pipe. The smell of clover and something more primal, sexual, stuck to the walls of the secret member’s only club. Amidst all the fancy dressed men and women, you stood out with your all-black tactical gear.

Your client walked past several seedy rooms until he reached the final room at the end of the hallway. You stepped in front of him and opened the door. After canvassing the area you gave him the all-clear. Several minutes later his associates arrived and they all sat around in a circle of expensive tastes, finely tailored suits and beefy cigars that reminded you of Colonel Phillips.

It was strange how your memory of your encounter with him brought you comfort, but these days comfort was near impossible for you to find, so you took it where you found it.

You stood as still and balanced as a marble statue, your gloved hands held behind your back in a stiff posture. On occasion, you and other bodyguards would do a sweep of the room.

"Jesus, doesn't she freak you the fuck out?" One of the smartly dressed men asked in fluent French. A language you were well versed in. "She's like a fucking statue. I haven't seen her move once. Except for those dead eyes of hers."

Your employer glanced at you with a large cigar between his crooked teeth, "Sometimes, sure. But I've noticed how intimidating she makes me look when I'm in a room filled with assholes almost as lecherous as you!"

The men laughed- so did some of their protection detail.

"Besides, once you get passed the whole ghost look, she's actually not so bad to look at," your employer grumbled suggestively with a sick grin on his face.

Your eyes snapped to him and he choked on some of his spit, washing it down with a glass of port. You looked back to the windows as you canvassed the area again. A breeze blew the lace curtains softly, making you think of the lace curtains that had drawn patterns across Bucky’s face with the sunlight in his apartment.

You bit down, hard, as you forced yourself to focus on hand. A ray of red-light was reflected by a well-polished, silver, decor piece. The ray transformed into a dot and instinctively you reached across the room and pulled the back of your employer's chair to the ground.

The soft whistle of a silencer pierced through glass, grazing the side of your arm. You snarled at the contact.

The room was silent for a second and then a second bullet pierced through the glass window, this time forcing it to shatter.

"Get down!" You ordered as several security personnel moved to shield their employers and transport them away from the room.

You kicked the oak tabled to the side and took cover behind it. "Get them to the safe room downstairs!" You ordered the rest of the personnel.

"What about you?" One of the bodyguards asked.

"I'll lay down cover fire. Get them out of here." You said calmly as you upholstered your 9mm handgun and fired based off the trajectory of the bullets holes lodged in the wall.

Several of your bullets ricochet off something metallic from the sniper's nest on the adjacent roof. The impact forming sparks in the night air.

The room became a burial site for sniper slugs as they littered the walls and sofas and decorations. The metallic pinging sound reminding you to stay hunkered low until your enemies clip ran out.

You reloaded your gun and fired off cover shots as you moved away from the window. On the ground was a single casing. You recognised the make. Soviet slug, no rifling. The memory of the ambush in the mountains skittered across your synapses before you were brought back to the present by another shot tearing through the weak walls.

Suddenly, the shooting stopped. You rose from behind cover and tried to gain a visual of the target with a piece of broken mirror. From this angle, you saw the silhouette of what you assumed to be the rifleman run and then jump. The sound of glass shattering from the window a floor below alerting you to the fact he was now in the building.

A small object hit the floor in the room around the same time, you looked over and realised he had thrown a grenade into the room.

"Fuck..." you swore in a panic, holstering your gun before you lassoed the hooked end of your utility rope around a column and dove out the window. The explosion from the grenade sent off hundreds of pieces of shrapnel flying through the air. You managed to outrun the brunt of the impact, but some slugs embedded themselves in your back and thigh. You gasped from the pain.

Swinging in the air, you propelled your body towards the window the assailant had jumped through and unclipped the rope from your belt once you dove through the window.

You ran after the sounds of a heavy man’s boots sprinting down the series of open rooms. You were faster and more agile so you caught up to him faster than most would've been able too. As soon as you got close enough to the man, you sprinted closer and slid your legs under his in an effort to topple him.

He anticipated your moves with inhuman speed. As soon as your leg knocked his off-balance, he used his metal arm to balance his upheaved weight around and down so he was facing you as soon as his body stopped moving through the air. His fingers leaving a trail of claw-like scratches on the floor.

You quickly upholstered your weapon while your back was on the ground and fired off several shots. The assassin deflected them all with his opened metal palm.

You hissed in annoyance then backflipped twice to gain some distance between you and him before you fired more shots. This time he bobbed and weaved, avoiding most of your bullets save for the one that scrapped alongside his protective eyewear, grazing the skin above his eyebrow in an angled slant.

The assassin charged at you with all his strength. You pulled the trigger but the clip was empty. You tossed your gun and timed his charge so you could sling over and around him, wrapping your legs around his midrib as you furiously hammered the business end of your elbow into the concave of his shoulder blade.

One, two, three, you landed bone-crunching hits into his collar and shoulder blade but it didn't slow him down for a second. He reached over and around, grabbed the back of your tactical vest and flung you over and away from him.

Your body slumped into the wall with intense velocity, popping your shoulder out of its socket and leaving an indent in the drywall. You coughed out blood, then shook the ringing from your ears and stood to face him. Gripping your dislocated arm, you tugged on it hard, snapping it in place with a painful grunt.

"Okay, comrade. You want to play dirty, let’s play dirty!" You rotated your wrists clockwise, activating the current switch embedded inside you gloves. They thrummed with an electric current pulsating through them as you unclipped the metal batons from your back. Electric crackles of electricity sparking down the length of you metal fight sticks. "Let's see how well you handle current!"

The assassin stalked over in large strides, upholstering his knife from the side of his leg. He gripped it with the precision of an expert. Come to think of it, a lot of his tactics were similar to those you were taught in the Red Room.

He forward slashed and backslashed in quick succession of the other. You pirouetted away on your light feet and spun around him, bringing your electrified batons crashing down on his metal arm. The electricity conducted lethally from your gloves to his body, making him let out a shrill howl.

The sound of his cries sounded familiar. Darkened but familiar.

You faltered for a split second and that was all the time he needed to spin around and kick you against the wall.

You heard your rib crack as one baton fell to the ground. Relentlessly, he traded one blow after the other with his metal arm aimed at your head. You ducked and leaned away from each attack, but the wall now had four fist-sized punctures in them.

For his final move, he spin-kicked you in the stomach one more time and the wall integrity gave in. You fell through the crumbling wall and landed against a mound of white, dusty drywall.

The assassin hovered over you, knife in hand. Your mouth was filled with the taste of blood and your organs screamed in agony. You tried to crawl towards your batons a few inches in front of you.

You dragged your body at a snail’s pace, the assassin simply followed after you in languid steps. When your hand wrapped around the baton, his boot pressed down on your gloved hand, preventing you from lifting it and cracking the electric conductor that generated the current in your gloves.

He turned you over so your back was to the floor and your eyes stared at his black mask. He slipped his knife between your ribs and you let out a soft gasp for air.

"Hhhnngggg!" You bit down to keep from screaming, your mind beginning to fracture as you hallucinated pink petals raining down around you.

You gripped his hand and tried to push it away. A sliver of electricity passed through you both. Your eyes shot open from surprise. For a second, you thought you were back in your old apartment, hands laced together with Bucky while you sat on your couch. Then the bone serrating sound of the knife leaving your chest snapped you back to the present.

With what remnants of a stable mind you had left, you urged the muscles in your hand to work as you reached into a pouch pocket and pulled out a syringe of adrenaline. You took several controlled breaths and then plunged it into your heart, a scream rippling out of your lungs as you pushed down on the plunger.

***

The Winter Soldier stood, backing away from his defeated foe, wiping his knife on the sleeve of his shirt as he made his way towards his real objective. Then he heard her gasp raggedly and his mind instantly pictured her wearing a pink waitress uniform, notepad in hand, offering a handkerchief to a scrawny man seated across him.

He braced both sides of his head as this intrusive image seared like hot coals across his thoughts. The pain was so intense he was brought down to one knee in a loud thud. A scream filled the room and he willed the pain to stop as he turned to look at the woman he left dying on the floor, except she wasn't dying anymore.

In amazement and curiosity, he watched as she picked herself off the floor. Every scrape, cut and wound beginning to heal, as she came after him. She danced around him faster than before, the adrenaline making her a nimble opponent, too slippery for him to get his hands around. She punched, kicked and elbowed with combo after combo in a dizzying flurry.

The Winter Soldier was slowly backed towards a tall window. She kicked him three times square in the chest, face and shoulder, sending his back forcefully into the window glass, causing it to sound out a cracking sound the instant his face guard got knocked off.

When he thought she was about to finish her attacks and kick him out the eight-story building, she froze. Eyes opened wider than ever, eyeballs skittering across every inch of his face in search of something, her lips and fingers quivering subtly. It was then he saw her fists no longer clenched defensively.

"That's impossi--" Her words no louder than a pin-drop.

The Winter Soldier's metal arm reached out and grabbed onto her arm, using his tremendous strength to fling her into the adjacent wall. Their faces mere inches apart. Hers contorted by pain and confusion. She stared into his steel-blue eyes, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Her petite fingers wrapped around his hand -still connected to her throat- but she didn't fight him.

Anger filled his senses as he couldn't make sense of all the images and colours and flashes that were evoked by her touch. The skull-cracking headache placing unbearable pressure on his cranium. He tried to blink the pain away, and for all his agonising efforts, it only grew deeper. The Winter Soldier struggled to keep his grip fixed on her throat.

***

Bucky's metal fingers felt so cold against your skin, almost as cold as his eyes. It hurt you how devoid of emotion they were when he stared at you with menacing rage. Nevertheless, you kept searching for a glimpse of the man you once knew. The man you once loved. And if the swell of emotions tangling against your heart was any indication, you were certain you were still in love with him.

Your fingers slid along the length of his arm as he turned his gaze away from you as though you burned him. His brows close together and eyes crinkling in pain.

You were a half-inch away from touching a strand of his outgrown hair when his head snapped back to yours with a newfound determination, and then he began to squeeze his grip.

He effortlessly raised your body off the ground, feet dangling as blood rushed to your brain. Your fingers began to claw and dig against his iron-clad grip, fighting to open up your airways.

***

The woman struggled against his tightened grip, back of her feet kicking against the wall as she failed to gasp for breath. She made him feel uncertain. The touch of her skin, even against his metal arm, felt hauntingly familiar. Almost as though they had this before, be close to one another, touch one another. Another image attacked his thoughts, this time she was seated beside him high atop the world, watching an extravaganza of fireworks.

“What… Is she doing to me?” His thoughts screamed in disarray.

Whatever powers she had over him mattered not because no matter how many images shed conjure to bombard his senses, and no matter how conflicting his feelings became, she was keeping him from his target. And the Winter Soldier never fails.

"Bucky..." She whimpered.

His hand began to shake as another memory was awoken:

“Bucky,” she whispered before bridging the gap between the two them. Rumblings of a crowd begin to cheer and whistle. Her giggling into the kiss. Fireworks going off in the distance, bathing her skin in its artificial rainbow of colours.

The Winter Soldier shook his head furiously, blinking away the image. He looked back up at the woman locked within his death grip, her face turning red.

A single tear ran down her cheek and plopped onto his metal arm. She looked at him without fear or bitterness.

"Buck," she failed to let out the whole word through cracking vocals.

Another flash bombarded his senses:

“I’ve missed you, Buck,” she admitted. He placed one hand around her cheek, the other around the small of your back holding her gaze. His lips met hers in a passionate embrace, she leaned into his touch as a moan escaped her lips. He guided her body towards a wall, pinning her there while one hand moved achingly slowly from her waist to her thigh. His grip greedy and rough causing her to quiver.

The flash disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

The woman saw this as an opening as sucked in as much air as her constricted airways were allowed.

"Buchanan!" She shouted with all the strength she had left, eyes glaring at him with fire.

This time the flash was stronger:

"Buchanan!" She mewled as she climaxed atop him. Her swollen lips placing sloppy kisses on his. The muscles of her core contracting around him, edging him closer to his own release. He gripped her hips higher, she moaned pleasantly in response. He thrust deeper, trying to become one with her, and then he climaxed inside her, filling her completely. She fell against his chest like a rag doll, her fingers drawing circles where his heart should be. Then he uttered: "God… I never want to be apart from you."  

***

Bucky, or whatever it was he had become now, instantly released his fingers from your neck, leaving behind deep bruised marks. You sucked in air like some famished animal, your hand gripping at your shirt collar.

You scampered for purchase on the wall as your balance was still uneven. Slowly, you brought your eyes to meet Bucky's and this time you felt relief.

He was on his knees, a lost expression taking over as tears slid down his face. He was looking up at you, hands shaking furiously. The veins on his temple swollen and exposed. This wasn't the face of the stranger who just tried to kill you. This was the face of a man torn in two.

Hope flickered to life inside you. Your eyebrows drawing upwards in solace. A dark chuckle sputtering in your throat.

Of course, this was how fate decreed you meet again. Any other way would've been too easy.

Through the silence, you picked up the soft sound of the elevator nearby ding each time it went up a floor. There was you back up.

"H-Helen?" He finally found the strength to speak in a voice darker than the one you knew.

You hadn't expected him to call you by that name. You knew your focus should have been on the miracle Bucky was alive and seemingly hadn't aged, or the fact he remembered you, but instead, your thoughts returned to that damned day in the mountains. To the sound of bullets cutting through bodies, explosions scattering shrapnel into your body.

Your mind retreated further into itself, returning to that chair in the torture cell and all the times you'd been showered with shock after shock after shock.

You knelt down and picked up a piece of piping that had been loosened during the fight. Your eyes closing shut for a moment as you took shallow breaths.

The pain, starvation and hate you endured while being held prisoner at the expense of Yelena's betrayal turned into a whirlpool of rage, dragging you to the bottom of a dark pit inside you.

When you opened your eyes, white-hot fury burned through your irises. You snapped like steam building in a pressure cooker and before you could stop yourself, you swung the piece of piping at Bucky's head, knocking him onto the ground. He was out cold.

The elevator dinged again. They were getting closer.

"I always hated that name," you dropped the pipping and ran your hand through your damp hair. You tried to strategize how to get out of this new predicament. "Now, what the fuck am I going to do with you?"

~Part 17 Coming Soon

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