#ad: sharon carter

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

A Firm Hand

MDNI!!!

A/N: I posted this on ao3 a little bit ago, so I figure why not post it here too! Beta read by @teaflavoredwitch Bucky Barnes x female reader, past Steve Rogers x reader implied/referenced, cheating, alcohol, kind of dub con if you squint, p in v sex, dom!Bucky, protective Bucky, dirty talk, kitchen sex, spanking, fingering, drunk sex, size kink, friends to lovers, angst and porn, shamelessly self-indulgent

Word Count: 5.3k

Steve Rogers is a jackass.

Captain fucking America, mister cherry pie and morals, was a self-righteous prick. Bucky had never felt more pissed off at Steve in his one hundred plus years of living than he does right now. You curled up in his bed, bawling your eyes out and practically chugging some cheap magnum bottle of whiskey. 

Steve, who apparently didn’t believe in too much of a good thing, when he decided to stick his patriotic dick in Sharon Carter of all people. Of course, you found out. Steve was a terrible liar despite having the balls to actually cheat on you. You don’t know why you immediately go to Bucky, but you do. In the year you’ve been dating Steve, you became rapidly closer with the former Winter Soldier. Perhaps it was the forced proximity, or maybe you were just kindred spirits.

Bucky, of course, falls for you. Hard and fast like an idiot. Forced to pine after his best friend’s girl as if his life wasn’t already a fucking sob story. Always the dutiful friend, listening to you vent about the pitfalls of your relationship with Steve and trying to offer sound advice. Bucky learns to tame the green eyed monster inside him, finding contentment as your friend and confidant. 

When you show up on his doorstep at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, he knows Steve fucked up. He knows it without you even having to say a word, because he knew this would happen. He knew, on some level, that Steve didn’t deserve you. Not that Bucky deserved you either, god knows he was even less deserving. But you went to him, so that has to mean something, right?

The intensifying of your sobs pull Bucky out of his reverie, head snapping in your direction again. Some commercial blares on his shitty little TV in the corner of his bedroom, Even the Nights Are Better playing in the background on some allergy medicine ad. 

“T-this was our song!” You wail, burying your face in a pillow as your body shudders with the force of your sobs. The bottle of whiskey remains clutched in your hand. If it weren’t for your inconsolable state, Bucky might’ve been impressed and slightly turned on at the way you chug the whiskey. A woman after his own heart.

Bucky grimaces, perched next to you, stock still, “Okay, dollface, I think that’s enough whiskey.”

He feels awkward and stilted, like his skin is on too fucking tight and the room is too warm. He feels way too self-aware, he’s tuned in to every little sniffle and hiccup.

Seriously, fuck Steve for this. Not only for breaking your heart, but also creating the perfect storm. You, vulnerable and drunk in his fucking bed of all places. A wet dream come to life, if he’s being honest.

He needs to get the whiskey from you. He practically has to pry it out of your hands, amber liquid sloshing inside the nearly empty bottle. Fuck. He should have cut you off way earlier. He grabs the remote, clicking the mute button, “Honey, let’s take some deep breaths, yeah?”

Bucky tries to smile reassuringly but it’s tight and stretches over his teeth in a weird way that makes him look more machine than man. You peer over the edge of the pillow smushed against your face, doe eyes blinking owlishly at him, “Deep breaths?” You echo, incredulously, “You want me to take deep breaths when I walk in on my boyfriend tongue deep in that blonde bitch? Are you fucking for real, Bucky?”

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, like a fish out of water. He sure fucking feels like one, incredibly out of his depths. He’s not equipped for this, a tornado of hormones and heartbreak. His stupid silence somehow seems to agitate you even further, angelic features twisting and morphing through every stage of grief in a matter of seconds.

Your anguish quickly gives way to fury, chucking the pillow across the room, “Has he always been like this? Huh?” 

Bucky blinks taken aback, “What? Steve?” He sighs, running a hand through shortly cropped hair, “No, doll, he hasn’t always been like this. I’ve known Steve since we were kids, and he’s never been a saint but he’s not usually an inconsiderate, lying, cheating asshole either.” Bucky’s voice is hard and contemptuous.

Bucky takes your dainty hand in his, squeezing reassuringly, “Hating Steve isn’t going to make this better. It’s not going to erase the pain he caused,” He pauses, pursing his lips as he tries to find the right words, “You gotta let yourself feel this, dollface. Feel the anger, feel the hurt, the betrayal. Don’t suppress it, because that’s just gonna make it fester.”

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. Bucky silently attempts to work through his own feelings on the matter. On one hand, his never wavering loyalty to Steve, his brother in arms and every sense of the word. On the other hand is you. Heartbroken, far too lovely for his comfort and the odd, delicate bond between you two. Bucky swallows, his mouth filled with a metallic taste as he fights down the ever growing urge to hunt Steve down and beat him within an inch of his life. 

He realizes you’re staring at him, gaze hard, “Why didn’t you warn me?” You ask in a quiet, hollow tone that makes Bucky feel like his heart is going to shrivel up in his chest.

Running a hand down his face, Bucky huffs, “Warn you?” He echoes, “Honey, I… I didn’t know.” He implores, clenching his fists in his lap, “I swear to God, if I had known he was being such a fucking prick, I would’ve put a stop to it, I would’ve beaten the information out of him myself.”

“You didn’t know?!” You throw your hands up in the air, gesturing wildly, “You didn’t have a single fucking inkling? I don’t believe that for a second, Bucky,” You hiss, movements jerky and agitated as you tousle your hair, “You didn’t think to say, “Hey doll,”” You begin to mimic Bucky’s voice, “‘You’re about to date the goddamn devil!’”

Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Bucky scoots back. Your accusation stings, hitting a nerve he hadn’t known was exposed, “Hey, hold on just a damn minute,” He says, his voice rising in defense, “I’m not fucking psychic, dollface. I knew Steve could be an inconsiderate ass sometimes, but I didn’t know he was straight up cheating on you.”

Bucky scoffs, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through his veins, “I’m not going to apologize for not knowing what my so-called best friend was up to behind your back. That’s not fucking fair.”

His gaze softens slightly, his voice lowering to a more conciliatory tone, “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs earlier. I’m sorry you got hurt. But don’t think for a second that I would’ve ever encouraged you to be with someone who would treat you like this. You mean too damn much to me for that.”

You’re still pissed, of course. Feeling self-destructive, though Bucky’s heartfelt declaration hits deep. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a feral kind of rage filling you, “Oh yeah? Well… you’re… You’re an ass!” You shout, a half-hearted insult. You weren’t really trying, you just wanted to burn bridges. You push yourself out of the bed, stomping out of the room. Slamming the door for good measure, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. Storming into the kitchen, you begin digging through Bucky’s sparse cabinets for more liquor.

Bucky stared after you, stunned and hurt by your somewhat childish outburst. Your accusations burned like salt in a fresh wound. He stood there for a moment, anger and confusion warring within him. Then, with a fierce scowl, he stalked after you, his long strides quickly closing the distance between his bedroom and the kitchen.

The floorboards creak under his heavy footsteps as he follows the path down the hallway. When he reaches the kitchen, he grabs the doorframe, leaning in. “Hey, wait a fucking minute.” He all but growls, his voice a deep, dangerous rumble. “I know you’re hurting, but you don’t get to just accuse me of being an ass and then stomp away like a fucking toddler.”

He steps further into the kitchen, a breath away from crowding you against the counter, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Steve being a prick, but I won’t accept you throwing blame at me when I'm trying my goddamn hardest to be here for you!”

Bucky leans back against the counter, scoffing, “We both know you’re better than this, sweetheart. Don’t let Steve’s mistakes make you forget that. I’m not the enemy.”

You snatch a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet, there’s no more than a few sips left. You down it in one go, sighing tiredly, “I don’t need you to be here for me. I don’t need you to fix me, Bucky. I’m not some little dolly for you to glue back together. You don’t need to make your fucking amends with me.”

Bucky’s expression hardens, snatching the bottle from your hands, “Watch your fucking tone,” He whispers, cornering you against the counter. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, you see it. The Winter Soldier lurking in the back of his psyche. It sends a perverse thrill down your spine.

“I’m not trying to fix you. You’re not some damn doll, I know that. I’ve always known that.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “I’m here as your friend, to listen, to support you. But I won’t allow you to take your anger out on me, honey.”

You’ve never been good at knowing when to quit, it’s never been your strong suit. Now is not an exception, you double down on your brattiness.  

“Don’t tell me to watch my fucking tone, I’m not a child.” You hiss, scowling up at him. He towers over you, all muscle and man. Damn him for being so fucking tall, built like a skyscraper. You damn near have to be on your tiptoes at this point, it’s ridiculous. 

He grasps your chin hard, cheeks smushing up and lips forced into a pout, “Watch it, little girl,” He murmurs lowly, licking his lips, “You can be mad. You can scream and shout and curse until you’re blue in the face. But you don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Those sapphire eyes flashed with a mixture of anger, frustration, and a hint of something else, something that made your insides feel molten and heady.

“I’ve taken a lot of shit for the people I love. I’ve been beaten, tortured, and turned into a fucking weapon. But damn if I’m going to stand here and take your anger when all I’m trying to do is be here for you.” Slowly, deliberately, he leans in closer until his breath is hot against your pursed lips, “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry. But I won’t let you push me away, dollface. I won’t let you be self-destructive.” His voice drops to a fervent whisper, “You fucking try me, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with terrorist threats and mad titans. Fuck, I’ve been a terrorist. You think a little thing like you is going to scare me off?”

Bucky’s hand snakes around to the back of your neck. You whirl around, the world spinning, and he pushes you face first into the hardwood. You all but shriek in surprise, eyes comically wide. Your left cheek squished on the cool flooring, shoulders pinned down. Your knees prop your ass up in the air, curving your spine into a sharp arch. He has you right where he wants you, submissively positioned. An offering, your perky backside up in the air invitingly. Your body betrays you, a fucking shiver of pleasure wracking through you. You can feel your cunt leaking eagerly at Bucky’s manhandling. 

You wonder if he realizes the effect this is having on you. All thoughts of Steve and his betrayal fly from your mind as your pussy throbs in time with your rapid heartbeat. Shame and arousal burn your cheeks, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away your body’s traitorous reaction. 

This is Bucky. This is fucking Bucky. Steve’s best friend, your weird friend-ish acquaintance. You know him because of Steve. This is a bad idea, horrible. You need to put a stop to this immediately before you actually let him have his way with you on the kitchen floor. Because you’re heartbroken, you’re pissed, and you’re far wetter than you’ve been in months. You’re too vulnerable and fucked up, not to mention drunk to make a sound decision right now. And you know, you fucking know if Bucky asked to rail you within an inch of your life… You’d say yes.

So, “Bucky, uh,” You begin to protest meekly, all the fire and spit on your tongue moments ago evaporating.

The hand that is now pressing down in the middle of your back and pinning your sternum to the ground increases in pressure fractionally. A silent warning of the consequences of pushing back even further.

The words die on your tongue, you focus your gaze on a piece of lint by your face and huff. 

But then, slowly, deliberately he brings his hand down on your upturned ass. Delivering a sharp smack that echoes through the room. A surprised shriek of indignation rips from your throat, equal parts horrified and aroused. The stinging pain radiates across your tender flesh, a stark contrast to the coolness of the floor beneath you. “What in the fuck are you doing?” You demand angrily, scowl deepening.

“Keep testing me, honey, and I’ll show you exactly what happens to bratty little girls who don’t listen,” Bucky punctuates his words with another sharp smack to your ass, watching as the flesh and fat jiggle and redden beneath his organic palm.

He drapes his muscular torso across your back, leaning over your bent form. His breath is hot against your ear, his body a heavy, unyielding weight pressing down on you. It’s a comforting contrast from the rough treatment your butt is receiving, like a warm weighted blanket. 

Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, a tiny breathless noise escapes your throat. Halfway between a moan and a squeak, the flush staining your cheeks darkens further. You bite your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, simultaneously mortified and turned on.

Momentarily caught off guard, the super soldier freezes, his vibranium hand resting on the curve of your hip. A look of shock and disbelief crosses his handsome features. He had expected anger, perhaps even more fighting back, but never in a million years did he think you would react so unabashedly with desire.

For a moment, Bucky simply stares down at you, taking in the pretty flush of your cheeks, the way your lips parted around that sinful little noise. His cock, hard and heavy, strains through his jeans and presses into the curve of your ass. That all-consuming hunger that HYDRA tortured out of his system returns with a fucking vengeance. His blood sings in his veins at your little noises and rushes to his dick. 

A low, strangled groan escapes his throat as Bucky tries desperately to grasp at the last vestiges of self-control. His hand digs into the fat of your hip, squeezing and kneading almost unconsciously, “Fuck, honey…” He murmurs, his tone ragged with the overwhelming heat consuming you both, “Are you… are you getting off on this?”

Bucky moves impossibly closer, chapped lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “‘Cause if you are, honey… I’ll fucking wreck you and I won’t be held responsible for it.”

“Shut up,” You whine weakly, your shame and arousal fighting for dominance. Despite your half-hearted protest, you arch your spine deeper. You’re soaked, you know it. Embarrassingly soaked, probably through your fucking sweatpants at this point. Your cunt aches, feeling too empty. Bucky’s dark promise of wrecking you? Fuck if it doesn’t make you clench around nothing, needy and debauched. He’s barely touched you and you’re sure if he so much as brushes past your clit, you’ll cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Bucky’s eyes darken with lust as you arch your back, presenting your ass to him like a cat in heat. A low, approving growl rumbles deep in his throat. The hand on your hip slides back to palm the globe of your ass, sinking into the fatty flesh. You hope it bruises, god you want him to mark you. You want that vibranium arm to rip you into pretty little chunks and remake you into something new. Something Steve’s never touched, never kissed, never held.

“Shut up? Honey, the way you’re acting, you don’t want me to shut up,” He taunts, his voice a deep, seductive murmur.

That rips a pathetic whimper from your throat, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m too drunk for this.”

Bucky hums, “Yeah? You’re a big girl, you know how to say stop.”

You shudder, all but melting beneath him, “I’m too sad for this.”

Smack!

This time Bucky’s metal arm meets your ass cheek, you jolt, gasping. You’re panting openly against the hardwood, eyes screwed shut and blushing like a virgin. The intoxicating mixture of stinging pain and molten pleasure are far more powerful than the whiskey in your belly.

The former Winter Soldier all but rips your sweatpants down, bunching them around your knees. The cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shudder, a perverse shiver racing down your spine. The rough, calloused pads of Bucky’s fingers dig into the tender flesh of your ass cheek, kneading and squeezing the malleable muscle possessively, “Fuck, baby, look at this ass… you’re fucking perfect,” He groans approvingly, hips rocking forward to grind his clothed erection against you, “Steve was a goddamn fool to ever even look at another woman.”

Without warning, he brings down his palm hard against your bare ass, the sharp crack of skin against skin filling the otherwise silent apartment. The biting ache blossoms across your nerves, quickly followed by a rush of heat and traitorous surge of arousal, “Maybe this is what you need, honey. You need to be manhandled, huh? I gotta slap that bratty attitude of yours outta your ass?” Bucky coos mockingly, dragging his blunt nails down the rapidly reddening skin.

You breathe shallowly, fuck it feels like you’re barely breathing as is. This is a side of Bucky you’d never dreamt of seeing, not even in your wildest dreams. He was always so stoic, quiet. It was like you were friends with a brick wall that used to be a sleeper agent. But this? Domineering, taunting, merciless Bucky? You were fucking drenched.

You hum in agreement, wiggling your ass back, too far gone now. Any sense of decorum or boundaries flies out of your little bird brain. All you know is Bucky’s punishing hand and his rock hard dick pressing against you.

He shifts, maneuvering your wrists to hold them firmly over your head with one large hand. He brings the other down on your backside in a series of sharp, biting slaps. A red handprint blooms across your skin, a brand. The pain gives way to a dizzying liquid heat that has you squirming and whining under him.

“Fuck, listen to you… making all those pretty little noises for me,” He pants, hips grinding slowly against the curve of your butt. Bucky was throbbing in his pants, achingly hard and straining angrily in the confines of his jeans, “Keep making those noises and I’ll bust in my fucking pants, honey.”

You can feel it now, how soaked you are. The cotton gusset of your panties clings to your puffy lips like a second skin. The evidence of your arousal is impossible to miss, the dark spot growing rapidly with each slap and taunting murmur. You rub your thighs together needfully, desperate for some kind of relief. Bucky’s gaze narrows in on your needy display, grinning wolfishly, “Fuck, honey, you’re absolutely soaked through,” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, rolling his hips teasingly into your backside, “Is this what you need, doll? To be put in your place, spanked until you’re a needy, desperate little thing?”

Holding your wrists firmly above your head, his vibranium hand slides around your hip, fingertips brushing teasingly along the sticky fabric of your underwear. The material clings to your swollen, aching folds. 

“You leaking just for me, honey?” Bucky murmurs, nipping at your ear. He brushes the edge of his nail across the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. It’s so light that you almost don’t feel it, but you do and you sob in relief at the slightest touch. Your legs tremble, threatening to give out under you.

Bucky continues his maddeningly light caresses, “So fucking wet and ready for me…”

He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, cool vibranium meeting feverish, swollen flesh. It swells and throbs under his ministrations. His fingers continue their unhurried exploration of your pussy, a single digit circling your entrance. You feel it push in slowly, sinking in one knuckle at a time. Your pussy flutters and clenches around the invading pressure, eager to be filled.

“This is what you needed all along, isn’t it honey? To be touched like this, to have someone take control and make this needy cunt drip?” He slides a second finger knuckle-deep into your dripping hole, pumping them in and out of your clinging heat as his other hand delivers harsh, biting strikes to your backside, “That’s it, honey, fucking take it.”

The thought of Steve’s vanilla, lackluster lovemaking paled in comparison to the passionate, almost feral way Bucky was claiming your body now. And his dick wasn’t even out yet. He could feel every inch of your silken skin trembling and quaking with need, your breathy cries and whimpering music to his ears. The tender, almost gentlemanly approach Steve usually had taken with you had left you wanting, craving something far more intense and fulfilling.

Bucky eases his fingers out and peels your panties from your sticky cunt, shucking the fabric to bunch it around your knees with your sweatpants. He reaches out once more, his calloused palm cupping the warm, plush flesh of your ass. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, could feel the way your muscles clenched and trembled beneath his touch. His fingers sank into the giving flesh, squeezing. 

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I’ll die,” You whisper, needy with shame burning your cheeks. And in that moment, it may as well have been true. To drive the point home, you wriggle your ass back against his groin, a clear invitation.

Bucky groaned, the sound torn from deep in his chest. His cock throbs and jumps at your needy words, desperate to be balls deep in your tight cunt. Faintly, he realizes he should hesitate, take a moment to think this through. But the way you presented yourself so wantonly to him made every logical thought fly out the window. He couldn’t resist, not you, not like this.

His hands flew to his belt, working it open with shaking hands. He quickly shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs, freeing his aching cock. It sprang up, long, thick, and flushed a deep, angry red. The swollen head was leaking pre-cum, a bead of moisture rolling down the shaft. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking himself a few times, before shifting closer to you. Bucky sweeps the tip of his cock through your folds, from hole to clit, coating himself in your sticky slickness. 

You gape at his dick, eyes wide as you peer over your shoulder. He’s fucking huge, because of course he is. Thick and girthy, this is going to hurt, you realize. And though that should deter you, or at the very least make you anxious, it only makes you wetter.

“Fuck,” You whisper, struggling to form a coherent thought, “You’re fucking huge. That’s… that can’t fit. It’s physically impossible.”

The bastard smirks, rubbing the small of your back, “Oh, it’ll fit, honey. I’ll make sure of that.”

You already feel your inner muscles tensing up, trying to force out something that isn’t even breaching you yet. A high-pitched keening noise rips from your throat as the bulbous tip sinks into your wet heat.

Bucky shudders as he feels your tight little cunt clenching and fluttering around just the swollen head of his cock. Fuck, you were so goddamn small, so fucking tight. He could feel every inch of your silky walls squeezing him, trying to push his thick tip out of your needy hole. It took every ounce of control not to just slam forward and bury himself to the hilt in your scorching heat.

He grit his teeth, his breath coming out in a low growl as he forced himself to hold still, to wait for your okay before he fucked into you. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fought for some semblance of restraint. Where was all that goddamn self-discipline that HYDRA beat into him? His dick was barely inside you and he was already a slave to your nubile body. 

He rocked his hips slightly, just barely, letting you feel the thick, spongy head of his cock kiss your entrance with each shallow thrust. “Tell me to move, honey.” Bucky pants, sounding utterly wrecked, “Let me move.”

All you can offer is a small, pathetic whine in response. 

That’s all the confirmation Bucky needs. He starts to move then, his hips rocking in shallow little thrusts as he eases inch after inch of his monstrous dick inside you. His grip tightens on your hips, digging into the plush flesh of your ass as he keeps you in place for each teasing thrust of his cock.

“God, honey, I’m gonna fuck this needy hole just like you want,” He growls, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of holding back, “Gonna rub this thick fucking tip all over this slutty pussy until you’re dripping and begging for my cock. Fuck… you’re so goddamn tight. Squeezing my cock so fucking hard.”

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” You gasp, screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You’re already feeling overstimulated, too warm and too full. Part of you screams to crawl away from the excruciating sensation of being impaled on such a thick cock. You try your best to breathe through it, willing your body to relax. Your cunt weeps, rivulets of slick dripping down and around Bucky’s dick. You feel the little droplets running down your thighs, mixing with your sweat.

Bucky hisses through clenched teeth as he feels your arousal dripping obscenely down his length, your thighs trembling. He loops an arm around your hips, holding you up as he watches the way his dick is swallowed up by your tight hole. He could see you struggling, hear the conflict in your whimper, the way you whispered this was wrong even as your body screamed for his touch. He knew he should listen to the voice in both your heads telling him to stop, to pull away before they crossed a line from which there could be no return… but fuck, he was so goddamn close to the edge already.

His hips rocked faster, fucking his cock in and out of your clutching heat with rough, rapid thrusts. A wet, obscene symphony of squelching and skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with his labored breathing and low, strained grunts of pleasure.

“We… fuck.. We shouldn’t…” He repeated your words dumbly, but even as he said it, his cock kept moving. You could feel the tip kissing your cervix with each throbbing, leaking thrust. “But fuck, honey, you feel too good… too goddamn good. We can’t stop now,” Bucky leans forward, pressing his chest against your back, his lips brushing down the side of your neck, “Fuck, gonna make this pretty cunt mine. Fill it up real good, honey.”

“Oh, god,” You gasp, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you at his words. Your toes curl, fingernails scraping across the floor, “I want that, please. Wreck me.”

The desperate, pleading tone of your voice shatters the remnants of Bucky’s already frayed control. His eyes roll back at your words, groaning. He feels your velvet walls clench and ripple around his throbbing dick, grasping him like a hot fist. Without warning, his hand slides from your hip to your dripping sex, rough fingers finding your swollen, aching clit.

He teases the sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles around it with the pad of his thumb as he fucks into you hard and fast. His hips rock faster in tandem with the finger on your clit, each thrust pushing a gush of your juices around his cock and down your thighs. 

You feel like you’re on fire, every nerve alight and singing Bucky’s name. You bite down on your fist, attempting to hold back the shrieks of pleasure bubbling up in your chest, “Right there, god, please!” You squeal, trembling with the burning need to cum, “God, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop, right there.”

Your whiny, wanton moans bring Bucky’s climax hurtling at him like a freight train. He ducks his head down, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder and shudders. The feeling of your slick little cunt gripping his dick was maddening, and the needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips were pushing him closer to the edge, “Fuck, honey. Just like that, keep screaming for me. Gonna blow my load in this hot little cunt.”

You whine in response, Bucky’s rough treatment of your clit sending you careening over the edge. Your cunt clamps down violently, slick release gushing out of your hole. Lips parting in a silent scream, you shudder, shattering beneath him. Bucky lets out a guttural moan, his voice raw with pleasure as you cum hard on his cock. A puddle of sticky wetness forms between your legs on the floor, dripping down the fat of your thighs. Bucky can feel his own orgasm building fast and hard, his shaft throbbing and pulsing as he caresses your clit through your aftershocks.

“Yes, fuck! That’s it, honey. Soak me, pretty girl, gonna- fuck!” He grunts, his hips slamming forward and burying his thick cock to the hilt in your spasming pussy with one hard thrust. He groans long and low as your sex milks him for all he’s worth, his hot seed flooding your insides.

Bucky shudders, hips jerking as he empties his heavy balls inside you, thick ropes of pearlescent cum coating your fluttering walls. He presses his hips tight to your ass, grinding against you. That’s enough for your legs to quit on you. His eyes widen as your legs tremble and then give out, your body going boneless and pliant in his arms. He tightens his grip on your hips, hauling you back up onto your knees. Bucky’s heart races, a wild bird in his ribcage, as he struggles to catch his breath in the aftermath of his intense orgasm.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he eases his softening cock out of your well-used hole. A river of his thick cum oozes out after him, dripping down your inner thighs, joining the puddle of slick on the floor. Bucky can’t help but feel satisfaction at how fucked-out you look, sporting his bite mark on your shoulder. His hands slide around to cup the soft swell of your belly, his palms splayed across the gentle curve. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way it flushed and erupted in little goosebumps from his touch. His gaze heavy-lidded, dark with lingering lust as he murmurs in your ear, “We can’t do this again, right honey?”

[buckyssoldat]

Quiet moments (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After witnessing her former lover with a teammate, she distances herself from the Avengers. She finds unexpected support in Bucky Barnes, and as their friendship deepens, they discover a profound connection that leads to healing and love.

Word count: 2.4k

Requested: No

Warnings: emotional themes, slowburn, mature content

A/N: Here’s part 2 to ‘She used to be mine’ (Sharon Carter x Reader). Also, please check my series ‘Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier’. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

After painfully watching Steve and Sharon fall in love, she kept her distance from them and the Avengers. The betrayal still stung, and it was hard to forget how everything fell apart, especially when her feelings were as raw as the day it happened. However, it wasn’t just Sharon’s kiss with Steve that haunted her – it was the realization that she had lost more than just a lover, she had lost her sense of belonging.

But Bucky, who had quietly witnessed her heartbreak, was more attentive than she realized. It started with small things. He’d check in on her when they had missions, asking how she was holding up, offering a reassuring smile when the weight of her feelings threatened to overwhelm her. He didn’t push her to talk about it – he just made himself present, a quiet but steady support.

In the months that followed, as the worked together on missions, they naturally began to spend more time together. Their shared silence spoke louder than words. They both understood loss, pain, and betrayal. Bucky, with his checkered past and constant search for redemption, seemed to understand her in ways that no one else could.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting mission, they found themselves alone in a safehouse in Eastern Europe. The others had gone to bed, but neither of them could sleep. She sat by the window, watching the soft rain fall against the glass. It had been a long day, her emotions worn thin from the stress of the mission, and memories of Sharon floated to the surface once again. She clenched her jaw, willing the feelings away.

Bucky entered the room, silently making his way to the kitchen. He poured two mugs of tea and approached her, sitting beside her without a word. He handed her one of the mugs, and they sat in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the rain.

“Do you ever feel like you’re drowning in memories?” she finally asked, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

Bucky sighed, his eyes fixed on the rain outside. “Every day.”

She glanced at him, searching his face. His expression was calm, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the quiet storm he constantly battled inside. Bucky had been through so much, yet here he was – still fighting, still standing. It gave her a strange sense of comfort.

“You’re not alone in that,” he added, turning to meet her gaze. His blue eyes, so often shadowed by his past, were filled with understanding. “But you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

For the first time in a long while, she felt the weight on her chest loosen. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make her breathe a little easier.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Their partnership on missions grew stronger, but so did their friendship. She found herself confiding in him more often, sharing pieces of her life and her past that she hadn’t told anyone. In return, Bucky shared his own stories – stories of his time as the Winter Soldier, of the guilt he carried, and the nightmares that still plagued him.

They became inseparable, always sitting together during briefings, sharing meals, and often finding themselves in quiet conversations late into the night. It was as though the two of them had formed an unspoken pact to help each other heal.

The shift between friendship and something deeper didn’t happen overnight. It was gradual, subtle, hidden in small moments that didn’t seem to mean much at the time, but eventually built into something unbreakable.

It started in little gestures.

When they returned from missions, Bucky always made sure she had everything she needed, whether it was a cup of coffee waiting for her in the morning or an extra pillow on the plane for those long, uncomfortable flights. At first, she thought nothing of it. Bucky was a kind man, even if he tried to hide it behind his often stoic exterior. But it wasn’t just the small kindnesses that caught her attention – it was the way his presence seemed to quiet her mind, to calm the chaos in her heart. He didn’t need to say much, just being there was enough.

The first time she noticed her feeling for Bucky shift, it was on a cold evening in Bucharest. They had just returned from a particularly tough mission, and Bucky, who had grown up in New York’s winters, seemed unaffected by the dropping temperature. She, on the other hand, was freezing. They walked side by side, their breath coming out in clouds, and she tried to rub warmth into her arms.

Without a word, Bucky stopped, shrugged off his leather jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at him, surprised, and found him giving her a small, lopsided smile. “You look like you’re freezing,” he said, his voice soft. “Can’t have you turning into a popsicle.”

His jacket was warm, carrying the lingering scent of him – clean, with a hint of leather. She felt a strange flutter in her chest, something she hadn’t felt in years. Her breath caught as she realized how close he was standing, how his fingers lingered on her shoulders as he adjusted the jacket. Her heart raced, but she didn’t pull away.

“Thanks, Bucky,” she murmured, and he just gave her another one of those small smiles that made her knees feel a little weak.

They continued walking, but something had changed. That jacket felt like more than just a simple act of kindness. It felt like Bucky saw her, really saw her, and cared enough to make sure she was comfortable, even when he didn’t need to.

The next moment happened a few weeks later, when they were both back at the compound, taking some well-deserved downtime. They were sitting in the lounge, watching a movie neither of them was particularly interested in. She sat on one end of the couch, and Bucky sat on the other. Despite the space between them, she could feel his presence like a magnet, pulling her attention toward him.

About halfway through the movie, she glanced over and found him already looking at her. It wasn’t awkward – it was like he had been waiting for her to notice. He smiled, a little embarrassed to be caught staring, and she couldn’t help but smile back. There was something so gentle about the way he looked at her, like she was something precious.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quiet in the dim light of the room.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m good.”

He didn’t press, but she could see the concern in his eyes. Bucky was always careful with her, always mindful of how she was feeling. It was one of the things she admired about him, one of the things that made her realize how different he was from anyone she’d ever known.

That night, as they sat together in comfortable silence, she realized that Bucky made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just that he was physically strong – though that helped – it was the way he listened, the way he cared, the way he made her feel like she wasn’t alone in her struggles. And maybe that was when it hit her: she was falling for him.

But the moment that solidified it came one rainy afternoon. They were on another mission, this time in Paris. It was supposed to be a routine recon, but things had gone sideways, and they ended up having to hole up in a small, plain safehouse on the outskirts of the city. The rain was coming down in sheets, and they were soaked to the bone by the time they got inside.

Bucky had grabbed a towel from the bathroom and handed it to her without a word, his eyes scanning her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. She took it gratefully, drying her hair as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Bucky leaned against the wall, watching her with the same quiet intensity he always had. It made her feel exposed, like he could see straight through the heart of her.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” she said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m not worried,” he replied, his lips quirking into a small smile. But his eyes said otherwise.

He came over and sat down beside her on the bed, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching. They were both tired, both drained from the mission, but sitting there, together, it didn’t feel so bad. It felt… right.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if we weren’t doing this?” she asked suddenly, not really sure why the question popped into her head.

Bucky looked at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I don’t think I’d be good at anything else.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I don’t believe that. You’re good at a lot of things, Bucky. You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He didn’t respond right away, but when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I guess I just feel like this… all of this, it’s all I know.”

She turned to face him, her heart aching for him. She understood that feeling, the way the past could weigh on you, make you feel like you didn’t deserve anything more than the life you had. But Bucky… he deserved so much more.

“I think you’re a lot more than you think you are,” she said softly, reaching out to place her hand on his. His metal arm was cool beneath her touch, but his flesh hand was warm, grounding her.

Bucky looked at her, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, the world outside the rain-filled windows disappeared. It was just them, sitting together on that bed, the weight of everything they’d been through heavy in the air between them. But it wasn’t the bad kind of weight – it was the kind that comes from shared experiences, from understanding each other in ways that no one else could.

“I think you’re more than what you think you are, too,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart race as she realized how close they were sitting, how easily their hands fit together. She didn’t want to pull away. She didn’t want to pretend like there wasn’t something happening between them. But it was scary, falling for someone again, after everything she’d been through. After Sharon.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Bucky’s eyes softened, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere.”

That was it. The moment. The promise he made her, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he’d wait for her, that he understood. It wasn’t grand or dramatic. It was simple, quiet, but it meant the world to her. Because Bucky wasn’t just offering her love – he was offering her time, patience, and understanding. And that was something she hadn’t had in a long time.

The days that followed were filled with more of those little moments. The way he’d smile at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, the way he’d always make sure she had her favourite coffee in the morning, the way his hand would brush against hers when they walked together, sending sparks through her.

There was the time they were stuck in a tiny village in Sokovia, waiting for extraction after a mission. The power had gone out, and they sat together by candlelight, playing cards and laughing over nothing in particular. Bucky had leaned back in his chair, watching her as she giggled over winning yet another hand.

“You’re cheating,” he teased, his grin widening as she playfully protested.

“I’m not!” she laughed, trying to hold back the smile on her face. “You’re just bad at this game!”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth.

And then there was the time they were on a mission in the mountains, and a snowstorm forced them to take shelter in a tiny cabin. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the room as they sat side by side on the floor. She rested her head on his shoulder, exhausted from the day’s events, and Bucky gently wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.

They didn’t speak much, but they didn’t need to. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with unspoken words and shared feeling that neither of them were quite ready to say out loud yet. But it was there. They both felt it.

And then, one evening, back at the compound, after months of stolen glances, lingering touches, and quiet confessions, they found themselves standing in the kitchen late at night. The rest of the team was asleep, the compound eerily quiet. She was making tea, and Bucky stood beside her, his eyes fixed on her every movement.

She turned to him, holding out a cup, and their hands brushed. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of warmth through her. She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the way he was looking at her – like she was the only person in the world.

And that was when she knew. She didn’t just care for Bucky – she was in love with him.

The realization hit her like a wave, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss.

For a moment, Bucky was still, as if he couldn’t believe it was happening. But then, his hands came up to cup her face, and he kissed her back, deeply, passionately, like he had been waiting for this moment just as long as she had.

When they finally pulled way, both were breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Bucky smiled, his eyes filled with so much warmth, so much love, that it took her breath away all over again. “I love you, too.”

And just like that, everything changed. They weren’t just friends anymore – they were something more. Something real. Something that had been building for months, in all those small moments that seemed insignificant at the time but had led them there, to that. To love.

From that moment on, they were inseparable. In Bucky’s arms, she felt safe, loved, and whole. And that was more than she had even dared to hope for.  

masterlist

[urdepressedslut]

Protect me

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky.

♡ Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of buckys trauma, anxiety attack

You were on edge ever since Zemo showed up, knowing what he put Bucky through made you feel extremely protective over him.

Your cheeks were flushed with rage, your nostrils flaring in attempt to hold yourself back from killing Zemo yourself. Zemo would try and be civil, starting small talk, being extra nice. You weren’t having any of it, you were snappy and short with him. Trying to keep conversation to a minimum, knowing that the second you opened your mouth, shit would go down.

Zemo found it hilarious and found the whole act to be entertaining. Now he was pestering you with dumb questions, making it his goal to get you to break. He found it pathetic that someone like you, was trying to protect someone like The Winter Soldier.

Bucky on the other hand found it adorable, and felt incredibly special with your protectiveness. His heart attempted to explode at every tiny gesture you’d make.

Always putting yourself in between him and Zemo. You changing the subject if Zemo tried to poke at Bucky’s trauma. Making sure you kept him reassured that he was okay. That the words don’t work on him anymore when he started to overthink.

All these things adding to the list of why he loves you.

Although Bucky loved seeing your protective side, he knew you were holding back much more than you were letting off. He could tell you were incredibly anxious, from the second Zemo joined their group.

He had made it clear that you didn’t have to be so strong for him, but you refused and kept up your guard. He knew that eventually things would get better, but for now he felt useless.

The air was thick with tension as Zemo did all the talking with Selby.

You were having a hard time holding yourself together, upset that Bucky had to portray The Winter Soldier again.

Selby kept giving you a judgmental side eye, making you nervous that she was growing suspicious. But otherwise didn’t push too much, and instead focused her attention on Bucky and Sam.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked Zemo, smirking evilly.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo starts, standing up to circle Bucky, “And I give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky doesn’t budge, standing still with an empty look on his face, staying in character. You clench your hands into fists at Zemo’s words, sneaking a look at Bucky and you swear you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

Zemo continues to circle him, touching him as he makes rounds. Selby grins at his offer, making you sick to your stomach.

“He will do anything you want.” Zemo adds, caressing Bucky’s face. The words and actions had you seeing red, your chest tightening up.

Your nails dug into your palms, drawing crescent shaped cuts, blood starting to pool in your fist.

There was obviously a line that no one wanted to cross, and considering that this plan started over the line… It was too much for you. You couldn’t listen to Zemo talk about Bucky like he wasn’t even there, like he was an object.

Your nose tingled, the familiar warning that you were about to cry, and your fists shook slightly. Zemo and Selby kept talking, but to you it was all muffled.

This wasn’t the place or time to break down, and despite not being able to breathe well, you locked it away, not allowing any tears to fall.

—————————❂—————————

Someone had eventually shot Selby, and that someone ended up revealing themselves as Sharon Carter. One thing led to another, and now everyone was gathered at Sharon’s place.

Bucky had noticed quickly that you hadn’t spoken too much since before the interaction with Selby, and he had grown worried.

You looked paler to him, the gorgeous color in your cheeks gone. You were staring off into space if not listening in the conversation.

He figured it was going to be hard for you to see him back as The Winter Soldier, considering how protective you’ve been. But he was only acting, and he knew you knew that.

Bucky walked over to your staring form near the window, which had an incredible view but he doubted you were actually looking at it.

“Hey doll, you doing okay? You’ve been awfully quiet, which is not like you at all.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but barely saw you flinch from his attempt.

“Baby? Please talk to me.” He pleaded, growing more worried every second you stayed silent.

He wrapped his arms around your frame and it was then he felt you shaking. Pulling away he immediately scanned you over, taking in your balled up hands, noticing streaks of red leaking through the cracks of your fingers. Lastly, he could hear your pained wheezes, like you couldn’t breathe.

“Babydoll, I need you to look at me.” He told you softly, keeping his tone gentle.

Reaching out, he collected your fists into his palms, internally cheering when you moved your head to finally meet his eyes.

“There you are, now I need you to take a deep breath with me okay? C’mon baby, do it with me.” He told you slowly, and watched you take a tiny breath in, wincing when you strained your lungs to expand.

He coached you through a couple more breaths until you were taking in large gulps of air. It was like your brain finally allowed you to process everything as soon as you had enough oxygen.

“There we go, you did so well doll,” Bucky noticed your lip quivering, and watched tears gather in your eyes. “Oh baby, c’mere.”

He scooped you up into his arms, caging you with his embrace. Letting yourself feel the warmth of Bucky’s arms, you let out pained sobs, holding onto him like he was going to disappear.

“I was s-so scared.” She whimpered, causing Bucky to hold you tighter. His heart hurting from how broken you sounded.

“It’s over now baby, you don’t have to be scared.” He cooed, sneaking his metal hand under your shirt to stroke your back, knowing that the coolness brought you comfort in situations like this.

“I hate it when they talk about you like that,” You cried out, “Like you’re— like—“

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to finish, I know.” He stopped you, knowing your words would’ve brought on a new wave of tears.

“I hated that I couldn’t do anything, I fucking hated it.” You cried.

He frowned, hugging your sobbing form, his heart breaking at the fact that you were upset because he had to portray The Winter Soldier. You were more upset for him, than he was for himself. You were too caring for his heart to handle.

You lifted your face from his chest, leaning up to meet his eyes. You held his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with panic.

“You okay?” You asked him softly, and he melted at your touch, pushing his face further into your hands. Even in this state, you were still worried about him.

“I’m okay babydoll. As long as I’ve got you with me, I’m gonna be okay.” He told you, lifting his flesh hand to gently grab your chin, letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. “Are you okay?”

“Now I am,” You nodded to him, “I just— You’ve already been through so much, and I hate seeing you have to do something so traumatic. I just wanna protect you from everything… I can’t and won’t see you hurt again.”

Bucky’s heart swelled at your words, there wasn’t anyone else that could make him feel as special as you do. You made him feel so important.

He pulled you in, giving your lips a quick but passionate kiss. His flesh hand cradling the back of your head, his metal hand pushing on your lower back, your front meeting his.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I love you too Buck.” You murmured, nuzzling your nose into his.

There was nothing else in the world you’d ever want, all you wanted was right here in his arms.

[veebarnes13]

"I love you more"

Context: Bucky and you got married two years ago, but it didn't stop him from starting "I love you more" contests.

TW: none

Era: TFATWS

(English isn't my native language, feel free to correct me!)

Enjoy! :)

☆☆★☆☆

The alarm went off violently that morning. Bucky groaned and rolled to his side, almost crushing you under his weight. He slammed his fist on the alarm clock, careful not to break it though. He let himself fall on his back, his flesh arm circling your waist from behind. He buried his face in your hair and took in your scent, a smile tickling his mouth.

"Morning." he mumbled.

"Morning, handsome." you replied in a sleepy whisper.

He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his hand roaming up and down your belly.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, worried you would be sore after he made love to you last night.

"Couldn't have slept better." you answered.

He cuddled you against his chest for five more minutes, not wanting to get up just yet. He had a meeting later with Sam and Sharon, to which he wasn't looking forward. They always got Carter and him arguing, Sam trying to soothe them and ending up arguing as well, and made him upset for the whole day.

He finally got up and forced you to do the same, holding you by the waist. You both took a morning shower to start what he had called "the waking up process of lady Barnes". He teased you with how different he was from you on this point. Where he could get ready for a meeting or mission in twenty minutes, it took you an hour and a half just to get up, shower, get dressed and eat.

While you were picking your clothes for the day, he prepared breakfast. You hugged him around the waist and kissed his bare back.

"It's dangerous to cook shirtless. You could burn yourself." you rebuke him with a gentle slap on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about the cook, kiss him instead." he replied.

It was the sentence he used each time you complained on his methods. You rolled your eyes, but kissed him anyway.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself, dummy, because I love you." you said, a finger on his chest.

"I love you more, doll." he retorts.

You snort, your version of a sarcastic laugh.

"Don't start this war. I love you more." you counter.

"Nonsense. I love you more." he added.

"Impossible, because I love you more." you shook your head.

"Shut up, I love you more." he replied.

"Make me." you chuckled.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and towered over you. He leaned forward, but instead of kissing you like you expected, he put a piece of the bacon he's cooking in your mouth.

"Tell me how it is." he laughs.

You elbowed him. He shifted away, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

After breakfast, he had to leave for the meeting. You kissed him goodbye, and as he was closing the door, you yelled "I love you more!". He opened the door and said "No, I love you more." then slammed it, preventing you from replying.

You smiled, knowing he thought he won, but he didn't.

At lunch, when he opened his meal, he laughed to himself, making Sam jump. On his sandwich was a piece of paper with the words "I love you more" scribbled in your handwriting.

"Really?" he texted you.

"Can't argue with facts." you texted back.

He smiled and shook his head.

As soon as he got back home, he took advantage of the fact that you weren't back yet.

Your keys jingled and he was standing before the door, a wide smile on his face. You frowned, suspecting something, and put your coat down on the couch. He hugged you tight and kissed you, welcoming you back home, telling you how much he loved you. You said you loved him more, but he didn't argue; he simply smiled.

Weird.

You cooked dinner since he made breakfast. When the plates were on the table, he poured you a glass of water. You noticed a black stain on it and tried to wipe it off with your thumb, but it didn't go away. You licked your finger and tried again, without any success.

"Gross." sneered Bucky.

"Shut up." you laughed back.

You inspected the glass and realized the stain formed an "I". Knowing what was coming next, you took the water jug and looked at the side that was towards Bucky. He had written on it "love you more."

You glanced at him. He giggled between two bites.

To get revenge, you positionned your food to spell "I LOVE U" along with a little addition sign, and he shook his head.

"It doesn't work, you didn't spell it right." he said.

If your eyes were guns, he would've been cribbled with bullets in a heartbeat. He laughed and gently kicked your knee underneath the table. You kicked him back and he snorted.

You both spent the evening without another "fight", but you knew he was planning something. So were you.

You brushed your teeth, got undressed and disappeared under the covers. Bucky joined you ten minutes later. You quietly insisted to be the big spoon and he didn't argue, for once; he loved to be the little spoon.

After a few minutes, you drew "I LOVE YOU MORE" on his back with your index. You heard him chuckle, a deep warm laugh that vibrated through his chest. You pressed yourself against his back and rested your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"I won't let you win this forever, you know." he whispered.

"You will." you murmured.

You cuddled him to sleep, his scent surrounding you. The next morning, you had a day off, so he let you sleep when the alarm rang.

You opened your eyes at 8:30, and the first thing you saw were the rose petals scattered on the floor. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, only to find out James had spelt "I love you more".

You smiled, your heart squeezing happily beneath Bucky's shirt you were wearing.

☆☆★☆☆

Thank you so much for reading this! I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed it.

If you like my writing, you can take a look at my Wattpad account, "WinterBarnes13", but my works on there are mostly in French. I wrote only one Fanfic in English, it's short and was written two years ago.

Lots of love!

- Vee

[midnightmayhem13]

me and you from the night before

a morning with the ladies/sleeping with them❕🩶

enjoys my fellow single fucks🩶

carol danvers

carol doesn't accept it but she snores. she wakes up at the ass crack of dawn but is a heavy ass sleeper. she'll put her full body weight on you. she'll hold you close and lay on your boobies/chest. she'll drool on them too. you'll wake up when you feel the bed dip or the warmth of her body gone. but if you don't wake up with her or be there before you're fully conscious, she'll make sure to leave note. but if she sleeps in she'll let out the cutest a and mildly loud snores. she'll be getting that good sleep. her pajama pants will be on her calves and her hair will b a mess. but she'll always look stunning. if you try to leave before her, she'll let out a little 'noooo' and try to keep you on the bed. but sleepy carol will melt with the sweetest little facial kisses.

sharon carter

sharon freaking squeezes you to death while sleeping. you're her teddy bear. for her i feel like she be big spoon but she won't deny being little spoon. she also hold you by the waist and you wrap your arms around her neck. you will literally be tangled in your sleep. and if she gets up before you she'll have hot coffee (or tea) ready. and you guys definitely cool breakfast together. but when she doesn't have anything to do that morning she'll sleep in as long as she wants, and you better stay with her. she gets whiney if you try to leave her on a lazy saturday morning. and she's a calm sleeper, she'll pull you closer occasionally and mutter 'i love you' while unconscious. she doesn't know that but you're okay with it.

darcy lewis

it's very clear that darcy's the biggest cuddle bug ever. she'll wrap her arms and legs around you as if she was going to get blown away if she didn't. she'll nuzzle her head into your neck. omg since she can't see when she wakes up she'll be all dramatic, like she'll rub her hands all over your face and say "where are your lips babe?" and you just laugh and kiss her all over her face. she stares at you and slightly squints if your saying something while having your small morning or late night conversation. i feel like she's a blanket hog too. and she also sleeps on top of you. she's your blanket. she also demands you carry her anywhere when she wakes up. and she'll demand coffee, but sweetly. many kisses

nebula

you have no idea when but nebula is always up before you. and she's staring at you. like directly into your soul. she also strokes your hair and just stares at you lovingly while you sleep. but when you're both knocked out she always has an arm around your waist. she'll make sure it's her "real" arm and not the metal one. while sleep though she's very at peace. some times when she can't sleep she'll hold you realy close and wrap your arms around her so you can hold her. she'll knock out if your rub her head softly.

maria hill

big spoon little spoon position 100%. a rather calm sleep but when she's especially tired she'll snore. if she moves in her sleep you'll move with her, bc she's holding you so tight. omg and she always wakes up before you and leaves you a cup of water on your bed side stand so you can drink it first thing in the morning. when she doesn't need to get up early she'll wake you up with kisses so you two can have a date day. she'll love to take a steaming shower with you in the morning. she's also loves when you run your hands through her hair while you try to calm her down after a mission or nightmare

kate bishops

i feel like kate starfishes in bed. like you two sleep all over the bed but are still touching in some kinda of way. blanket thief fs. she also rolls in her sleep and will end up on top of you. her hair gets messy while she sleeps and you two wear matching pajamas. lucky sleeps with you two adding to the tangled mess on the bed. when it gets hot it's tank tops and shorts and a bunch of fans. even luckyy gets hot. sometimes both of them kick you. and when luckys on top of either of you that person cannot move no matter what. and the other person just gets up and laughs while going to prepare lunch, bc you guys sleep in. but in the mornings kate gets up very hesitantly and a little grumpy.

a/n wrote this after getting up at 2pm🩶

[jonsnowisthesexiestbastard]

Still pissed that the MCU didn’t bring back Sharon Carter instead of adding THAT character

[missacidburn928]

It's a year old but here's some holiday spice for you all while I wait in the urgent care with my autistic son.

I Really Do Believe In You....

Steve Rogers × Bucky Barnes x Thor Odinson × POC Singer!Reader "Honey"

Let’s see if you believe in me.

The Avengers Holiday party. You are both a guest and part of the musical entertainment. Will you end up on the naughty or nice list?

You spot them as they enter the main ballroom. Your three strapping men, color coordinated and cutting intimidating frames in their suit choices. Thank the goddess you had a good hold on the mic as you waited for your cue to join Sy in singing White Christmas, or you might have literally swooned in front of this mass of party goers.

You start your verse as you watch them make their way over to the bar where the team, plus one Sharon Carter, have gathered. Thankfully tonight’s event is Jane Foster free, so it should be a good night with you, Sy and the Chanti’s house band entertaining Tony’s rich friends and employees before enjoying some much needed time with your men.

You can't help but feel festive in your short red dress, studded red fishnets and nude pumps. You’ve kept your makeup simple with a nude lip and a smokey eye. Your hair down and in its natural state. Sy made a comment when picking you up that you looked like Santa’s little Siren. Seems appropriate if you do say so yourself.

Per usual you notice Sharon being a bit too chummy with your Captain. The woman just can’t help herself. You know all about the “kiss” when they were trying to save your beloved Bucky. But according to Steve the reason it never went further was because there was no spark when their lips touched. And he tried giving her a chance, chalking the lack of spark up to the stress of the situation, but she was way too into his status and power. So he ended things before it made it any further than a couple dates and a subpar makeout session.

What is it with these prude ass women that hang around these strong ass people? Sharon, like Jane, thinks your quad is ridiculous and you don't need that many men. Especially when you added Steve in. 

“He should be upholding traditional values as he’s America's golden boy. Not flaunting such an alternative lifestyle. Hell if he was gay it would be easier than this bullshit. Why on Earth would you want to willingly share a woman with two other men. Not to mention one of those men is a God and the other a murderer.”

Let's not forget what she also stated in that little rant of hers, when she was unaware you could hear her perfectly clear from your spot in the common room. “I just don’t understand what he sees in her. Who stays in a band with someone they used to be fuck buddies with? It’s just tacky and sad. A man that powerful should be with someone who is only devoted to him and can boost his image, not damage it. ” 

I’ll show her tacky. Lord knows I'm certainly not above being petty. I’ve been behaving for far too long. Time to put these Siren skills to use. What good are they to have if you can’t fuck with uppity bitches using them.

Continue

[endlesstwanted]

Rainy Day Cinema

Created for @shewhowillrise’s Sharon Carter Year event, Dec 12th prompt: Rain ☔

Fandom: Captain America (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers

Tags: Canon Compliant, Neighbors, Propositions

Summary: Sharon’s quiet evening takes a warm turn when Steve shows up at her doorstep.

Wordcount: 100

Also created for: @steverogersbingo — Steve hates the cold

Read on Ao3 here or under the cut!

Steve ringing the doorbell was the first thing Sharon had heard in two hours that wasn’t the rain outside her apartment. The weather in Washington had suddenly turned pretty bad, but at least she could stay home, pretending she didn’t have a shift at the hospital.

“Hey, neighbour,” Steve greeted her with a smile. “I hate the cold, and I thought of watching a movie under a pile of blankets. I also made too much popcorn,” he added, holding two huge bowls of buttered popcorn.

“We can’t let those go to waste,” she agreed, smiling. “So, what are we watching?”

[hightownquccn]

POSSIBLE SIDEBLOG CREATION

Please VOTE on which one you think would be fun to play with.

Adding a little more description that I have thought out in my head. Some is canon from MCU/comics and some is the twist I want to put on the character for my portrayals*.

Agent ???. ( I still have no name for him ) former SHIELD agent. best friend of Sharon Carter. or so he likes to claim. computer genius. skinny white boy. flirt. bisexual. he's annoying but really a sweetheart. not big on field work. but he can hack.

( ? (name undecided) is a former agent of SHIELD now mini-Tony Stark minus the suit and superhero status. Coming up through the academy he somehow befriended a woman by the name of Sharon Carter when they were put on an undercover assignment together. He was mostly just the support but made a few appearances in his undercover roll when needed to support Sharon aka 'Emily'.

A bit of a nerdy genius all he has ever wanted was to feel wanted and valuable. He was loyal to SHIELD until it fell thanks to HYDRA infiltrating and finally revealing themselves. With the fall of SHIELD, he used his knowledge to freelance and made a name for himself. He has been known to take on projects to help the likes of former SHIELD-loyal agents. He is very anti-HYDRA. )

Alex. "Dove". literature professor. musician. Inhuman. pain manipulator. Guatamalan/naturalized American.

( Original mini description that may be tweaked: Alex received his nickname of Dove from his mother in what almost feels like a different time. She used to call him her little pacifist. Now a lot older ( and not necessarily a whole lot wiser ) he still holds that peace should be tried before war.

After terrogenesis, Alex discovered he now has the power to cause pain in others. It goes against a lot of what his parents taught him growing up and what he believes in...but he isn't an idiot. Sometimes if you have a gun in your face or pointed at a loved one you need to act. So as much as he hates his powers he does try and avoid it if at all possible. Known for his aversion to violence many have begun calling him the Dove. )

Steve Rogers. captain america. the first avenger. the little guy. the man out of time.

( Steve is a World War II veteran, a founding member of the Avengers, and Earth's first known superhero. Rogers grew up suffering from numerous health problems, and upon the United States' entry into World War II, he was rejected from serving in the United States Army despite several attempts to enlist. Rogers ultimately volunteered for Project Rebirth, where he was the only recipient of the Super Soldier Serum. 

Fighting in the war, he served his country before supposedly sacrificing himself in a plane crash. Decades later he was awoken from his sleep and begins to readjust to modern life. Cap is needed once again and he picked up the mantel again, joining The Avengers. He served with his fellow members for a time before eventually post The Snap 2.0 retiring. He has passed the mantel on to a man formerly known as Falcon, Sam Wilson. Now he is trying to figure out what to do with his life. )

Amora of Asgard. The Enchantress. asgardian. formerly exiled to Midgard by the Allfather. seductress. intelligent.

( Parentage unknown. While still in adolescence, she ran away to the land of the Norns and apprenticed herself to Karnilla, one of the most powerful sorceresses in all the Asgardian dimension. There she studied all the basic arts of Asgardian magic until Karnilla expelled her for being too undisciplined. She picked up further mystical skills from seducing other Asgardian mages and wizards. In time, Amora became one of the more powerful magic-wielders in Asgard, with her magical arsenal focused on (but not limited to) charming and mind-controlling people. Her by-then well-renowned beauty did not hinder in this.

Amora has always had an obsession with Thor. She has been used as a weapon by the Allfather to try and distract Thor from his love of the human, Jane Foster. But she has also done things unsanctioned by the royalty of Asgard. During one of her many attempts to make the God of Thunder hers she is caught and sentenced by the Allfather to Midgard. While there she took up the name of Sylvie Lushton. Stripped of her powers she is/was stuck in the realm until Thor is banished as well. When Loki appears they strike a deal and she regained her powers. )

KEY NOTES*

I would not play Steve as having gone back in time to rejoin Peggy. He stayed in his current timeline and lives in New York.

I play Amora as having 'Sylvie Lushton' as her mortal name in tribute to the two different women that had the title of Enchantress in the comics.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 7

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omarashi

Summary: Bucky Barnes is young, confused, and conflicted - a real "rebel without a cause" type. His parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Wait! I haven't read an earlier part of this fic! Story Masterlist

Part 7 - The Liberal Assault on Traditional Values

After the bathroom, Bucky feels … loose. Kinda like how you feel right after getting one of those beat-the-crap-out-of-your-muscles, deep-tissue massages. It’s positively dreamy.

Steve drops him back off at French with Sharon, and Bucky sits at his desk and doesn’t hear a word the teacher says for a little while, because he feels nice and fuzzy and weak. He’s back with it once class is over, and is grateful to find that not only did Sharon take notes on the rest of the class for him, but that she also plans to act like the whole bathroom incident didn’t even happen. 

They go to lunch in the dining hall, and Bucky remembers his excitement over how the food at this place is going to be one of the main highlights. There’s so much to choose from, multiple buffets, and it all looks delicious. Sharon grabs a tray for him, because the rules are that Bucky has to go around with her and ask for what he wants as she fills up his plate. It’s a dumb rule but not worth fighting over, so he complies. There’s a boy over by the dessert bar who looks like he might be around Bucky’s age. He appears to be pleading his case for a piece of chocolate cake.

“Please, Nat? I’ll do an extra thirty minutes on my parkour tomorrow!”

The redheaded handler who’s with him looks amused. “It’s not about calories, Parker. You can’t have sugar like that. You’ll be bouncing off the walls all night—and not in a parkour way.” She guides the boy over to a soft serve machine that’s mounted into the wall. “Frozen yogurt,” she proclaims. “No sugar added.”

“Blegh.”

Bucky smirks and sets his sights on the chocolate cake for himself, later. As far as he knows, no dietary restrictions have yet been set for him. This theory is confirmed when Sharon doesn’t say no to anything he asks for. She doesn’t even hesitate to comply when he asks to have double portions of the less healthy items, so Bucky decides not to get huffy at her over how silly it is that he can’t fill up his own plate.

Besides, he’s just relieved that Sharon doesn’t make him kneel on a cushion on the floor like some other students are doing. 

They sit down at one of the dining tables and Bucky asks if the kids who are kneeling and being hand fed by their Handlers are being punished. Sharon looks at him funny for the question, like she thinks he’s really ignorant and feels bad for him. “It’s a protocol,” she says, then proceeds to explain the difference between “punishments” and “protocols.”

The former are always deterrents and are meant to be unpleasant. The latter are daily or weekly routines done for reinforcement and wellbeing, and are tailored specifically to each individual student’s needs. Sharon points out that there can sometimes be a degree of intersection between the two (as in the case of spanking), but that protocols typically involve things like sleeping restraints, or hand feeding, or leashing. “It depends on how you’ve been assessed,” she tells him. “What your Handler decides your needs are. Some boys eat at the table and never get leashed, some get hand fed and maintenance spanked. It just depends on the student.”

Bucky flushes at the mental image of Sharon “maintenance spanking” him on the daily. Yikes. He forces himself to casually eat a few potato chips off his plate so that he doesn’t come across as too anxious when he next asks, “Um, so … have you assessed me yet?”

Sharon smiles sweetly at him and sips her drink through its straw. “Oh, I’m working on it,” she says, somehow managing to make it feel like a threat even through her cheerful tone. She tells Bucky to finish his food, as lunch is almost over and they’ve still got his afternoon classes to get to. Bucky hurriedly complies, hopeful that there’ll still be enough time to go back and snag that piece of chocolate cake for dessert. 

Well, the bomb had to drop somewhere. 

Turns out, that first half of the school day had lulled Bucky into a false sense of security, exceeding his expectations and leading him to think that he’d be receiving a totally normal education at this backwards institution. But no such luck. 

Reality comes crashing in after lunch, when Bucky’s made to sit through the introduction of material that he refuses to believe could be accurate. “Who produces this garbage?” he mutters, flipping to the front cover of his biology textbook and searching out the copyright page.

Scholastic Publishers The Complete Human Body: a comprehensive framework of human biological systems  Copyright © 2024 Oxford College Publishers

Well. That actually seems pretty legit. He twists his lips unhappily and closes the book. In the tutor’s seat beside his desk, Sharon taps her hand against the desktop to get his attention. All she has to do is give him a look, and he knows she’s telling him to pay attention to the teacher. 

Up at the front of the classroom, Professor Cho has been giving a lecture on brain anatomy.

“The limbic system is where we see the biggest differences in the omega brain,” she says, clicking her little remote to bring up the next slide. It shows a cross section of a human brain with labels and highlighted regions. “It’s located here, to either side of the thalamus and just beneath the medial temporal lobe.” She uses her laser pointer to highlight said parts of the projection. “Now, the main functions of this system are emotion, behavior, olfactory, and long term memory. Omega brains are both structurally and functionally unique. We see the biggest structural differences in the nucleus accumbens, the amygdala, and the septal nuclei. Let’s take them one by one and explore what the differences are and how that affects us.”

She says “us,” but Bucky is pretty sure she isn't omega. Why would an uber-traditional school like this one hire an omega professor, after all? Bucky listens with pursed lips as Cho proceeds to talk about the different structures.

“Now, the piriform cortex in omegas is the one part of the limbic system that’s actually very similar in structure to that in the alpha brain.” She indicates a spot on the diagram with her laser pointer. “Right here. This is where we process olfactory information, including pheromones. You see how much bigger it is compared to the beta brain? You’ll always see this increase in size—that’s why we can scent more intensely than betas do.”

Sharon taps the desk again and looks pointedly at Bucky’s notebook, telling him to get to work on taking notes. Bucky huffs but he does listen, picking up his pen and scribbling down a few notes about the piriform cortex and scenting.

“In terms of omega brains specifically though, we do see massive structural and functional differences when it comes to the pleasure and reward centers and emotional regulation.” She points to another part of the diagram. “Here. This is the septal nuclei, and this,” she points again, “is the nucleus accumbens. They both deal with one’s pleasure and reward feedback loops. The accumbens especially is enlarged in omegas, and that is where sexual arousal is processed.”

A few students snicker at the mention of sex, and Cho smiles good naturedly while she waits them out. “Yes, yes, let’s all try to be mature about this, okay? Moving on. You can see the size difference, yeah? In omega brains these structures are nearly double to the size of what they are in the alpha or beta brain. That is what leads to the hypersexuality we see in omegas, and the heightened level of pleasure response to certain stimuli that wouldn’t really affect betas or alphas. This is multi-faceted, by the way: it’s not merely sexual pleasure that’s intensified. We also see the marked increase in pleasure-reward pathways with regards to things like scruffing, Holding, biting, and other possessive Alpha behaviors. These structures are the reason why omegas respond so strongly to dominance and aggression behaviors.” She looks at them all and says, “So the next time you get that gooey, goosebumpy feeling from the pressure of a collar, or from your Handler making you kneel, you know you have your nucleus accumbens to thank.”

Bucky scowls, resentful as fuck of his nucleus accumbens. One sharp look from Sharon has him writing down the information, though. 

Nucleus Accumbens: horny central, cause of simping for alphas.

Sharon narrows her eyes when she sees what he’s written, but Bucky just ignores her and focuses on Cho at the front of the room.

“It’s not just the bigger size of these structures that affect omegas, it’s also the differences in activity levels. And we know this because we’re able to observe this through neuroimaging studies. Does anyone want to take a guess at what types of neuroimaging are most useful for this kind of brain mapping?” She waits, and when nobody raises their hand, she calls on the kid whom Bucky had seen begging for cake in the cafeteria. “Peter? You ought to know this.”

Bucky looks over to where “Peter” is sitting with his red-headed Handler. The boy groans a little at being put on the spot, but eventually he guesses, “I dunno, like a CATscan or something?”

Cho smiles. “Good guess, that is one type. But the most common methods we use are MRI scans and EEGs.” She clicks to the next slide, which shows animated pictures of multiple brains, each illuminated in various colors that flare and flicker to show the brain activity.  “So this is an alpha brain’s amygdala, and this is an omega brain. Unlike the different sizes of the accumbens, the amygdalas are structurally identical. But the omega amygdala is much less active. The warmer the color, the more activity is indicated.” She points to the alpha brain. “All this dark blue? That means that it’s only moderately active—not too much emotion. But over here on the corresponding structure in the omega brain, what do we see?” She points to where the same part of the omega brain is lit up red. “Much more intense activity. So what does this tell us?”

She waits, and after a moment another student raises their hand. “That omegas are more emotional?”

Cho nods. “Exactly! Brain mapping studies have long indicated the increased emotions of omegas, but what’s important to note is that it’s not just that one factor that results in a high level of observable emotionality. We also have to consider this other little area over here.” she points to another spot on the diagram. “The anterior cingulate cortex is what regulates emotional control, and this is where the most pronounced difference is. Not only is this structure physically smaller in the omega brain, but it’s also much more inactive. This is why omegas struggle with independent emotional regulation and focus. Now this is fascinating: If you look here at these three comparison scans, the one on the left is an unmated omega at rest. You see the dark blue, indicating minimal emotional control? Now look at the next one over: that’s the cortex of an omega who’s been newly bonded!”

Bucky squints at the powerpoint, able to clearly see the lighter color blue in the area.

“Now it’s still extremely poor compared to alpha or beta brains, but you can see how the bond has mildly improved the activity levels.” Cho beams at them. “This is because of the influx of the alpha’s bonding pheromones. That’s the connection and settling that omegas feel upon bonding.” She says it all cheerfully, as if this a good thing, and Bucky sits back grumpily in his chair. Cho continues, “This last brain on the right shows the most activity of all, however. Anybody want to guess why?”

A few students raise their hands. One guesses that it’s not an omega brain at all, but Cho assures them it is. “This is the burst in activity levels seen just after an alpha has Voiced,” she says. “They had omegas wear headphones in the MRI machine, and hearing the Voiced intonation of an alpha caused many observable brain changes. All to the positive.” She continues prattling on about all the ways in which interactions with alphas have been shown to increase positive and decrease negative brain activity , annoying Bucky with every single fact she throws out. “Next class we’ll talk more about pheromonal feedback loops and the structures of the prefrontal cortex, so for homework I want you to read all of chapter two in your textbooks.” 

When class is over, Bucky slaps his pen down onto his notebook, and on the short walk to his next classroom, Sharon asks him what’s wrong. Bucky avoids looking at her. “That’s all bullshit,” he says. “Just putting a spin on things to make it look like we’re dumb.”

Sharon ‘tsks’. “I don’t recall Professor Cho saying anything about intelligence in that lecture.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Bucky grumps. “That’ll be next.”

“Hey kid, I don’t know what to tell ya. The science doesn’t lie.”

“Junk science,” Bucky grunts, though he honestly isn’t so sure about that. Dr. Cho’s slideshow had cited sources from places like Johns Hopkins and the Mayo Clinic, The Lancet and The New England Journal of Medicine. Bucky’s pretty sure those are major medical institutions and publications …

“Don’t be grumpy,” Sharon says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Maybe you’ll like psychology class more.”

Bucky does not like psychology class more. 

Professor Banner spends a whole thirty minutes lecturing them on the roles of neurotransmitters in omegas versus alphas and betas before Bucky finally gets frustrated enough to call out, “How come they don’t mention any of this crap in regular school? Huh?”

Banner looks over at Bucky, surprised, and Sharon shoots him a warning look from where she’s sitting across the room. Unlike in Cho’s class, where all the desks face the front of the classroom and the Handlers stay by each student’s side, in Banner’s class they’re all sitting around in small clusters at communal tables and the Handlers sit in chairs along the far wall. Bucky’s cluster has the chocolate cake kid, Peter, in it, along with two other boys. In the chair directly across from Bucky’s, Peter is staring at him with wide eyes. Bucky clenches his jaw and looks back down at the worksheets they’re supposed to be filling in as Banner lectures.  

“Well …” Banner says, parsing his words. “It depends what school you went to before this. You’re American, right?”

“Duh,” Bucky mutters. Across the room, Sharon narrows her eyes at him.

Banner just chuckles. “Yeah, well. A lot of folks in academia don’t like to emphasize anything that goes against the popular narrative, I suppose. But this is all extensively documented.” 

Bucky scowls. “It’s not a narrative. It’s just the real world.”

Banner blinks mildly at him. “Uh huh.” He turns back around to continue the lesson. “So, moving onto the role that endorphins play. I believe you all discussed regulatory centers in the brain in bio today?” A few students murmur in agreement, and Banner nods. “Okay, good. So we know that the parts of the brain that house your pleasure pathways and emotionality are located in the limbic system, and that’s where everything gets processed, but what makes the process happen, what makes it work?”

Bucky stares mutinously at his paper and mutters, “Apparently there’s not much going on up there,” he mumbles sarcastically. “Our ‘amygdala’ is ‘hypoactive’.”

If Banner hears him, he ignores him. “Think of it this way,” he says. “The structures in the limbic system are the factories, yeah? But they need workers inside and machinery to make anything happen. What is the factory worker, in this case?” He calls on Peter when the boy raises his hand. 

“Um, is it endorphins?”

Banner claps his hands, pleased. “Yes! But even broader than that, it’s your neurochemicals and the receptors for those chemicals. Endorphins are just one type of neurotransmitter that the brain releases. And you’re right, that’s what makes these processing centers in your brain work the way they do. The main ones we’re going to be going over today are omgestrin, oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin. Only omegas produce omgestrin—it’s totally unique to you guys. That’s known as one of the “love hormones,” and omegas produce the most of it when they’re in heat, newly bonded, or when they have a new baby. Omegas naturally produce higher levels of all of the other three neurochemicals too, but: their bodies aren’t as good at regulating it. It has to do with the amount of receptors available in the brain—don’t worry, we haven’t gone over that yet. But in a general sense, you guys have more neurotransmitters floating around, but less active receptor sites. So your body struggles to be able to use the neurotransmitters effectively. Does that make sense?” A few students mumble in agreement, and Banner nods. “So does anybody know how we turn the receptor sites on? How is good regulation achieved?”

“I’ll take a whack at it,” Bucky drawls, not raising his hand. “Alphas?”

Banner nods and shoots him an approving grin. He doesn’t seem to notice Bucky’s sarcasm. “Yes! Exactly. Now simple proximity is probably the biggest and most important factor. We know that omegas who spend large amounts of time in close proximity to alphas fare much better than those who don’t. Usually this means an alpha in the household, but there can be other situations that provide enough contact. Perhaps a friend or a neighbor or a teacher. Someone or several people in the community.”

Bucky doodles nervously on the edge of his worksheet, not looking up. “So then ... what happens if you don’t have an alpha in the house?”

“Good question! Now this is something psychologists have studied extensively. We see a lot more depression in omegas who forego A-o contact, along with higher rates of emotional and behavioral disorders. Suicidality rises by almost ten percent when no alpha is present in the household, and an omega is much more likely to engage in impulsive and high risk behaviors.”

Bucky’s eyes track to the question on his worksheet that asks about the effects of lack of A-o contact. Sighing, he reluctantly writes down Banner’s answer. “Stupid,” he mutters, but it’s said so quietly that nobody hears it except for the boys in his group. Peter shoots him a curious look from across the table, and Bucky flushes and looks away.

“Of course, there are a whole host of proven behaviors that alphas and omegas can engage in that essentially ‘turn on’ the neurotransmitter receptors in your brains. It’s that ‘rush’ of good feelings that you get when an alpha Voices, for example.” Banner looks around the room. “What are some other examples you can think of? I’ll give you a hint: they don’t all require an alpha to be effective.”

This is another question on the worksheet, so Bucky poises his pencil and waits for the other students to call out their ideas. He’s not willingly participating in this misogynistic lesson, he refuses to. One by one, the other kids call out their ideas:

Holds? Scruffs? Scenting? Kneeling? Being hand fed? Spanking?

God, this is so cringe. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and writes down a few of the answers that Banner nods along to.

“Remember, they don’t all require an alpha. Nesting is a good example of one that you can do on your own,” he says. “Though of course it always helps to have Alpha-scented materials available to use. Proximity to one’s own offspring is another, especially if the child in question is under the age of two.”

“Can’t we just cut to the chase?” Bucky interrupts. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, this is all just leading up to the part where you tell us that we can’t exist in the big bad world without an Alpha, right?”

Banner, surprisingly, doesn’t get mad (even though Bucky can see Sharon glaring at him from the other side of the classroom). “Exist? No, no I wouldn’t say that. You don’t need an alpha to exist. But to thrive? Yes, I would say so. Optimal mental health almost always requires interaction with an alpha.” Banner walks up to the room’s whiteboard and uncaps a marker. He begins writing on the board. Let’s discuss what can happen when one is absent that contact, okay? We already mentioned depression.” He writes “depression” down in big, looping letters. “And impulsivity, and high risk behaviors. Anybody want to take a gander about some of the most common high risk behaviors?”

“Sleeping around?” somebody says.

Banner makes a ‘meh’ face. “Well … yes, in the sense that arbitrary promiscuity is unhealthy. But not sexual activity altogether.” He writes down “promiscuity.” “Omegas have high sex drives, so it’s actually important for there to be outlets for that, but it should be with people you’re close to, not strangers or acquaintances.”

Bucky looks down. He’s never slept with anybody but acquaintances. Around the room, the students call out other problematic behaviors, and Banner writes down on the board, “alcohol and drug use,” self-harm,” and “criminality.”

“Good, good. Those are all good examples. And we see these behaviors in omegas who are, for example, raised in very rural communities where there might not be any alphas at all. It’s complex, but all you need to remember is that, in general, if there’s no A-o contact, then the risks for depression, addiction, suicidality, and criminality are all significantly raised.” 

That’s another question on the worksheet, so Bucky begrudgingly fills it out. He can’t help but make comparisons to his own life, of course. He’s never spent any significant amount of time around any alpha, and he does engage in more than one of these so-called “high risk behaviors.” But he’s not depressed, and he’s certainly not suicidal. Jeez. 

“So basically, the two big categories are one: being in physical proximity to alphas; and two: engaging submissive-dominant behaviors. Who here has a daily protocol?”

Almost everybody raises their hands, and Bucky glances over to Sharon. She shakes her head minutely, and Bucky’s shoulders untense. Banner calls on Peter, who’s got his hand raised. “I’ve got spanking protocol,” the boy volunteers.

Bucky’s eyes shoot up. “Daily?” he hisses, slightly horrified. 

Peter just smiles and nods. Banner calls on another student, who volunteers that they have assigned “lap time” with their Handler. Bucky doesn’t even know what that means. “Yeah,” Banner is saying. “So, what’s happening on a neurochemical level when you’re engaging in these activities with your Handlers, is that your body’s sending signals to more efficiently direct your happy hormones. More receptor sites become available, and that’s when you feel the effects—that rush of pleasurable sensation.”

Bucky answers another question on the worksheet, jotting down a few of the daily protocols that the other kids mentioned. He really hopes that he won’t get assigned the more humiliating protocols, like nudity or spanking. Yikes. 

“Now,” Banner says, erasing the board and starting over by drawing long lines to make a table. “Let's chart out all the protocol activities and work through which of the four pleasure receptors is involved in each.”

Banner’s class stretches on for what feels like forever, and Bucky is relieved when the bell rings and they’re dismissed. On the way out the door, Peter walks alongside him and holds out his hand. “Hey. I’m Peter.” 

Bucky shakes his hand. “Hey. Bucky.”

“You’re from the US too?” Peter asks.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky confirms, and watches Peter’s face light up like a Christmas tree. 

“Really?! I’m from Queens!” 

Bucky grunts. 

“Do you have gender studies next?” Peter asks eagerly. 

“I dunno.”

“He does,” Sharon supplies from behind. She’s walking alongside Peter’s Handler and the two of them are chatting back there while they walk along the hall. 

“Awesome!” Peter nods. “Miss Foster is my favorite teacher. She’s really nice and down to earth, you know? You’ll like her.”

“Doubt it,” Bucky mumbles, but he says it so quietly that Peter doesn’t hear, just keeps talking about how they get to sit in beanbag chairs for this class rather than at tables or desks. Bucky doesn’t say a word, just lets Peter prattle on, while privately wondering why the heck the boy seems so happy to be here.

They arrive at the next classroom, and inside there are indeed a bunch of beanbag chairs arranged in a circle. Bucky chooses one and isn’t too surprised when Peter plops down in the next one over. “Miss Jane” turns out to be a pretty omega woman, which surprises Bucky a lot. She’s wearing a collar, which means that she’s mated, and Bucky curls his lip in disdain. He wonders how self-hating an omega would have to be to want to teach at a place like this. 

Jane greets them all and introduces herself. “Welcome to gender studies,” she tells them, taking up one of the beanbag chairs for herself and tucking her legs under her. “I see a few new faces, so let me explain what this class is all about.” She gestures to herself and around to everyone in the circle. “We’re all omega, and in this class we study and explore the nature of that designation, what it means, and how we can all live our best, happiest and healthiest lives.”

Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he groans inside his head. It’s like they’re doing this on purpose, he thinks, slowly ramping up the rhetoric and reinforcing the previous teacher’s points. 

“This isn’t quite like your other classes,” Jane is saying. “For one thing, these chairs.” She wiggles in her own and smiles. “They mimic the atmosphere of a nest, so they should be much more comfortable for us than the usual desks. This is a place where we talk a lot more openly, omega-to-omega, and we have all sorts of discussions. It's much more loosey-goosey in structure, a place of free expression. Okay?”

(Bitterly, Bucky thinks that she probably wouldn’t like what he has to express.)

“Today I thought we could talk about gender roles and expectations, and how we all might feel that society is pressuring us to act one way versus another,” Jane says. 

“What?” Bucky says. “You mean like how we’re expected to stay home, pregnant and barefoot and catering to our Alpha’s whims?”

Jane smirks at him. “Actually quite the opposite. I’m talking about modern society, progressive values that dictate that we should all live and function independently, that we shouldn’t express our feelings or our needs. The modern feminist perspective is that there’s no difference between the sexes and that we should live exactly as alphas do, because that’s the right way to act. The valued way.”

Bucky frowns at her. “That’s a good thing though.”

She tilts her head. “Is it?”

Before he can answer, another student from across the beanbag circle speaks up. “I don’t think it’s always good,” he says. Bucky glares at the kid and Jane asks him, “Why not?”

The other boy shrugs and tucks his knees in. “I dunno. Just … it’s stressful, you know? I feel like we’re supposed to not say anything about how we're feeling, like it’ll be bothering people if you say you need help, or if you admit that you’re feeling sad or seem too needy or something.”

Jane nods along approvingly. “Yes. Well that’s the thing: modern feminism tells us that a good omega is just like an alpha, and that a good omega doesn’t need extra support. So we internalize that and feel guilt and shame when we do have these needs. We’re too embarrassed to speak up and feel like we should just keep it to ourselves and not say anything. But that’s not healthy, and it’s not fair to us. Modern western culture completely devalues the natural omega by insisting we’re the same as everybody else. What’s so wrong with being different?”

“That’s not true,” Bucky argues. “Feminism is good. It’s trying to make a fair world for us!”

Jane raises an eyebrow. “When did ‘fair’ become ‘identical’? When did ‘equal’ become ‘the same’? In today’s world we’re constantly sent messages to be self-reliant, to not be a burden: ‘Don’t mention it if you’re close to heat, just take suppressants. Don’t admit you need body contact, just stay in your space and don’t bother anybody.’ We have all these natural interests, abilities, and inclinations, but society tells us to pursue alphas’ interests and inclinations, to be just like they are because those are the valued traits. Don’t you think that’s the most sexist thing of all? To completely dismiss our natures as something undesirable?”

Bucky frowns and looks down at his lap. “I dunno,” he grumbles. He’s never thought of it that way. He doesn’t like the spin Jane’s trying to put on it though, as though omegas can’t or shouldn’t pursue independence. 

Jane goes back to addressing the whole class. “Just look at the ways that modern feminism has denied omegas’ nature and actually hurt us: We’re told we should want to suppress these traits, that we should ignore our urge to have children and a family, that we should avoid leaning on an alpha for support or comfort. The sexual revolution insisted that we could and should have casual sex with anyone, robbing us of the proven benefits we get from bonded sex and long term partners. It’s drastically increased the risks we face for abandonment upon pregnancy, because alphas are now given the message that they don’t need to commit and they don’t need to protect or nurture us. Both sides wind up lonely and deprived, and we’re told we should be saying thank you for it.” Jane looks around sadly at them all. “And what we’re seeing consistently now is tons of omegas in their thirties and forties—alone, mateless, childless, depressed—with houseplants and cats and regrets that’ve come too late.” She shrugs. “I would posit that true omega feminism would promote acceptance of our natures, rather than pretending they don’t exist. We need to think about what our culture can do to start valuing omegas how they are, not how they ‘should be’.”

Around the beanbag circle, a lot of the students are nodding along, looking relieved as if Jane has just put to words the way that they’ve all felt for a long time. Bucky isn’t nodding, but he is frowning down at his own lap, ruminating on it …

“Is there anybody who’s had an experience where they felt like they weren’t allowed or weren’t ‘supposed to’ act a certain way, and had to hold something that they really felt or thought in so they wouldn’t be judged?”

Several kids raise their hands, and they all volunteer times where they’ve felt pressured to not be their true selves. Bucky’s dismayed to realize that he can relate to many of the stories. He’s just never considered it before. He pulls his knees up to his chest and burrows further into the beanbag chair, chewing his lip and listening to things that he doesn’t want to believe might be true.

“So what?” he eventually says. “We’re all just supposed to stay home and make babies and never do anything?”

Jane shoots him an exasperated look. “Do you know the rate of antidepressant use in omegas in the US?”

“No.”

“It’s seventy nine percent. In the general population it’s thirteen.”

Bucky’s frown deepens. “Oh. … I didn’t know that. That sounds high.”

She nods sadly. “It is. But back in the fifties and sixties, the rate was nearly identical to theat of the general population’s. It only skyrocketed after the sexual revolution and second wave feminism. You think that’s just a coincidence?”

Bucky shrugs mulishly. “I dunno. It could be. Correlation isn’t causation.”

Jane nods. “Yes, but we also know that in bonded omegas who have children and work in traditional jobs, antidepressant use is still over sixty percent. In bonded omegas who fulfill caregiver roles? It drops to eight percent.”

Bucky avoids her stare, uncomfortable with being confronted with all these facts. “Whatever,” he mutters. “We should still have the choice to do whatever we wanna do.”

“Well of course,” she says. “We’re not saying those paths shouldn’t be allowed, but society has decided to demean and diminish the most common and beneficial life choices for omegas. It’s made us feel like what we naturally want to do isn’t good enough, isn’t worth anything. And that’s what’s not fair. We should be allowed to take pride in our designation, not be constantly told to ignore it and repress it.” 

Bucky shrugs, unhappy to concede the point. “Sure, I guess,” he mutters. 

Jane seems to sense that he isn’t interested in talking anymore, because she directs the conversation back to the class as a whole and moves on from there, leaving Bucky to sulk in his beanbag.

This story is an ongoing commission for an amazing supporter who wishes to remain anonymous. If you have a story that you'd like to see custom written, send me a message on Tumblr or reach out on my Kofi.

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[ex0rin]

End Of Year

continuing the tradition this year:

Fandom: HydraTrashParty (January-July) Fic Count: 37 Word Count: 115,925

Fandom: The Boys/ Jack Quaid RPF (August-December) Fic Count: 12 Word Count: 42,049

Total Word Count: 157,974

Find me on AO3 here

Top Three (Kudos)

The Other Stuff (The Boys) - Butcher/Hughie

Ein Gift (TFATWS) - Zemo/Bucky, Rumlow/Winter Soldier (past)

Something to Remember (CA:TWS) - Rumlow/Winter Soldier

Top Three (Personal) (under the cut)

Easy Intel (CA:TWS) - Rumlow/Steve Rogers

Rumlow’s not expecting the pretty blond who ducks into the hallway with timing a little too perfect for Rumlow to mark down as accidental, she glances up as they pass and, oh, he certainly knows her well enough that he could blow her cover when Steve says a friendly and neighbourly hello in passing; he makes a mental note to update their Intel later and make sure to include Sharon Carter’s name as a possible risk before giving her a wink on the way by while Rogers isn’t looking. It’ll be twice as fun tonight if Steve’s place turns out to be bugged by SHIELD as well as Hydra.

OR: Rumlow has a thing for sticking his cock in super soldiers that could snap his spine; more Intel on Steve Rogers was just an added bonus.

Running Lines (The Boys, RPF) - Karl/Jack (Butcher/Hughie)

This doesn’t feel like Karl to him at all, this feels like – Almost like – “Butcher,” he says, breathes. Karl's smile goes a little wider, a little feral at the edges, dangerous is what it is and Jack tries to swallow around the way the older man clenches his fingers a little more, effectively cutting off Jack’s ability to take another gasping breath. "Ah," Karl starts - just a low, rough exhale, "you wanna play do you Hughie?"

OR: Jack goes to run lines with Karl, gets more than he bargained for (but exactly what he wanted)

‘Til the End of the Line (Series, CA:TWS) - Steve/Bucky, Rumlow/Bucky

It might finally break what's left of him if Steve knew the way he's had to dig his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood just to shape his breath into the sound of a moan.

OR: Steve will never be able to give Bucky what he needs

We're about 70k less than last year but that'll happen with a mid-year fandom switch up 😅 As always, so much love to all my pocket-friends and cheerleaders/ readers this year but especially to:

@sparklingbinjuice @5ummit @billyboyblue @the-ravening @unlikelymilliner @ladyshallots @crushcandles & @semains

Here's to more words (more smut) in 2024 ❤️

[roboticonography]

it's getting really upsetting to see certain corners of the fandom demonize peggy. do you have any thoughts on the matter?

Oh, if only this were a new thing, anon!

I’ve been in the MCU fandom since before there was an MCU to speak of. Shitting on women characters and the actors who play them has been going on forever. People posted about how they hated Pepper Potts, saying she wasn’t a good partner to Tony because she didn’t constantly enable his erratic behaviour, or sacrifice her safety to accommodate his trauma. They posted about how Pepper should have died in Iron Man 2, for the good of Tony’s story, and when Iron Man 3 came out, they said the same thing. It was fucking exhausting.

People also posted about how they hated Natasha Romanoff, how they hated Jane Foster, how they hated Wanda Maximoff, how they hated Sharon Carter. 

And yes, there were Peggy-haters then too. They called her a “karate-kicking fucktoy” and a “vengeful feminazi” and those are the most polite terms I can recall. They complained that she was too powerful, they complained that she was too feminine, they complained that she was pointless without Steve, they complained that she talked about Steve too much. And so on, and so forth, ad infinitum.

Now, to be clear, I am not talking about some of the very valid criticisms people had about the Agent Carter series - its writing, its casting, etc. I am also not talking about the very valid criticisms people have about the larger MCU related to representation, or lack thereof, across multiple fronts. I believe it’s possible to enjoy a piece of media and still have issues with some (or even many) aspects of it, and I enjoy reading posts that grapple with those issues. I’m not even talking about venting about a popular character you can’t stand: that has its place, though I’d argue that the place is probably not in the tag for that character. (I guarantee you, your “unpopular opinion” is never as unpopular as you think.)

I’m talking about misogyny. The same tired, rehashed, played out bullshit woman-hating that has existed in fandoms, so many fandoms, for at least the 25+ years that I’ve been active in them.

And that’s still what’s happening.

Many of the posts I’ve seen that fall under this category are expressing anger that one character or relationship or storyline or interpretation of canon is getting airtime, while another one, one they like better, is not. I’m not going to argue with anyone about that. You like what you like, and you're entitled to be annoyed if you don't get it. But if your argument is sound, you should be able to make your point effectively without calling the character the grossest euphemism for vagina you can find, or speculating on the exact sex acts an actor had to do to keep her character popular.

Other posts I’ve seen are just absolute buckwild conspiracy theory nonsense. The only thing I have to say about that is, yikes. Get well soon.

Tumblr, like other social media platforms, recognizes that they get more engagement if people are forced to play in the same sandbox, which is why it probably feels like you're seeing a disproportionate number of hate posts. And anyone who writes for money on the internet knows that hate clicks are often the juiciest clicks, and so they will write articles and listicles and polls with titles and subjects designed to get your blood up. It’s become increasingly difficult to avoid seeing other people’s ridiculous opinions. But that’s still the strategy that I find best helps me enjoy fandom. 

So if “certain corners” of the fandom are not to your taste, anon, then my advice is this: block, blacklist, and just don’t engage. Don’t feed the trolls. Instead, put that energy into positive interactions. Make art. Comment on things you liked. Find your friends, and have conversations that inspire you and amuse you, instead of ones that make you angry and tired.

Thanks for the ask! Take care.

[bedlamsbard]

About 700 words written today. This scene is feeling a little uneven in a way I don't love, though I think some of it is that I need to go in and fill in the edges so it's not just dialogue. Deliberately took today kind of chill because it is, technically, a holiday; did two loads of laundry and watched a lot of Revenge. (Which is making me think about Sharon Carter's role in THE SHIELDRA fic.)

Snippet from Of Home Near chapter 17.

“I don’t know if we can get the CIA’s records from back then –” “Sure, easy,” Clint said. “Their security is going to be shit right now, everyone’s is.  They’re probably not digitized either, right?” Steve looked at Natasha, who shrugged. “The stuff from the war isn’t digitized,” Bucky said. “And the records are really easy to get into – I mean, for someone like us.”  When they looked at him, he added, “What?  I had stuff I needed to know.” Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I don’t – why do you people turn to crime as your first option for everything?  This is why –” Steve and Sam both looked pointedly at him.  “I don’t think the CIA is going to take my calls,” Steve said. “Or they’d take them, but they’d show up to collect personally,” Sam said. “Not the CIA,” Clint said, pedantic. “They don’t have jurisdiction inside the U.S.  They’d have to pass that tip on to the FBI or probably directly to Ross now that SHIELD’s out of the picture.  He’s been calling, by the way.” Steve exchanged a look with Natasha and said, “Great.” “What’s he want, anyway?” Tony asked, frowning. “What exactly does he think we’re supposed to do about all this?” “I don’t think he knows,” Sam said.

[sjsmith56]

Into the Mouth of the Lion, Chapter 21 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Lacey finds herself on a private jet with no memory of her name or her past. Meanwhile, in Madripoor both teams come up with a plan to take down Sharon Carter and rescue Tommy.

Length: 6.45 K

Characters: Lacey, Bucky, Sam, Dr. Strange, Scott, Hope, Peter, Maria, Bruce, Fury; unnamed oc.

Warning: Recalling lost memories, anger, angst, betrayal.

Author note: Bucky faces some major Dad moments, and decides to embrace his future and family. Feel free to reach for some tissues.

<< Chapter 20

✈️ 🦀 💉

Somewhere over the Atlantic

The blonde woman felt a hand on her shoulder and automatically shrank away from it. The hand belonged to a dark haired woman carrying some food who kneeled in front of her while studying her face.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," she said. "I will not hurt you. In fact, I am here to help you and prepare you for the viewing." She gently touched the blonde woman's hair. "Do you have a name?"

"I don't know," whispered the blonde. "Just when I think I remember it I don't anymore. What did they do to me?"

"I'm not sure," said the brunette, kindly. "Perhaps as you adjust to your new situation you will remember. Here, have something to eat. You must be hungry."

The blonde nodded her head and began to eat the food that had been offered to her. The brunette went to the back of the aircraft and spoke in Russian to a man who had observed them interacting.

"They wiped everything," she said. "They could have left a name, a sense of her identity. Did Dendrov say whether he touched her?"

"He said he left her alone," replied the man. "Not sure if I believe him or not but she doesn't seem to be showing the trauma of a rape. Her face looks familiar though and that could be a problem. I should run facial recognition software on her before we put her in the viewing."

The blonde ate the food that had been given to her and strained her ears to listen to the conversation of the brunette woman and the man at the back of the jet but she realized it was in another language.

"Russian," said a thought that came up in her mind. "How did I know it was Russian? Have I heard it before?"

There was a magazine on the seat next to her, in another language which she didn't recognize but she began looking through the pictures. An ad for a men's cologne made her pause and she looked at the male model in it. She didn't know him but his dark hair and bright blue eyes brought an image of another man to her mind. Just as quickly it was gone and although she tried to get it back she was unsuccessful. As she chewed her food she went over in her mind what she did remember. The other blonde woman, with the harsh face, and the crying boy she kept with her. The boy kept calling out "Mom." Did he mean her? Was she his mother? His eyes were also bright blue and for a moment she saw the man again in her memories. Was he the father? Her husband? Taking a deep breath the blonde woman tried to remember again but had no luck. There was a tattooed man with a shaved head, who seemed to know her and had offered the other blonde woman money for her. They had haggled over her price and she realized she had been sold, like a slave. It hit her, mid chew and she began to choke a little, grabbing a drink to wash the food down before the brunette woman came to check on her. The tattooed man took her into a vehicle while the boy kept screaming for her until the other blonde woman slapped him. She felt a surge of anger in her as she remembered that slap. How dare she hit Tommy. Tommy ... the boy's name was Tommy. She was sure of it and she let the triumph of that memory wash through her.

"What's so funny?" said the brunette who had kneeled in front her again. "You have a big smile on your face."

The blonde looked at the woman and knew that she couldn't let her know that memories were coming back, not yet. "I'm in a private jet," she answered excitedly. "Am I rich?"

The brunette smiled indulgently. "Perhaps you are," she said. "I was just told to transport you so it's a mystery to me. Are you finished eating?"

"May I have some more, please?" asked the blonde, even though she wasn't hungry anymore. She needed time to remember more before they arrived at their destination.

Smiling kindly at her the brunette brought her more food and went back to the man where they both watched her eat. The blonde kept chewing her food and looking at her surroundings hoping to see something, anything that would trigger a memory. She thought of the other blonde woman and focused her mind on her. She was sure the negotiation with the tattooed man hadn't been the first time she saw that woman. Letting her mind wander she had another flashback of a farm yard and the blonde turning her head, then throwing off a hood that had previously obscured her face. Wong printed a picture of the woman out of thin air. Wong, who was he? She remembered his name but not his face but she knew he was important ... he knew magic. Flipping through the magazine she looked at the ads again, hoping to see something that seemed familiar and then she saw it. A red origami crab, amongst other origami seafood on a platter. It wasn't the animals that triggered the memory. It was the origami itself that sparked it and she could see it, could see her hand putting an origami heart and the picture of the blue eyed man in her drawer. He made her an origami heart. His name was Bucky and he was the love of her life. In fact he was Tommy's father and he wrote on the heart that he would remember her. The blonde laughed out loud as the memory of the blue eyed man returned to her. She turned to the woman and the man with confidence.

"He'll come looking for me," she declared. "He's a super soldier and he will search the world to find me. You don't know what you're up against."

"What do you mean?" asked the brunette, pulling the blonde roughly up from the chair.

"Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier," said Lacey, grinning like a mad woman. Yeah, Lacey, that was her name. "He's my lover and he'll find you. You can run but he'll find all of you. It's what the Soldier does, right?"

She laughed again and the brunette pushed her down into the seat then turned to the man with a worried look on her face. What kind of trouble had Dendrov got them into?

Madripoor

Everyone in the room turned as the portal opened and watched as the others filed through it. Sam came forward to Bucky, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry she wasn't there," he said. "You still got a lot of women rescued and that counts."

"Yeah," replied Bucky unconvincingly, "we made a difference. What's the word here? Are we in High Town or Low Town?"

"High Town," said Sam. "About a block from Sharon's place that she showed us when we were here. Haven't seen her but there have been signs of activity at her place and some other places. Specifically a warehouse in Low Town that has had all sorts of building activity and increased security. Scott has been there a few times, hitching a ride on Red Wing. Now that Hope is here they can go together."

"So no visual of Tommy," stated Bucky.

"No, but we do have an in at the warehouse," said Sam. "The Dora Milaje applied for security positions at the new warehouse. Clint created a back story for them online that appears to have passed scrutiny. They're wearing nano masks with a spell on them to nullify any electronic signal and had their first shift today."

Both women approached. "White Wolf," said the first, Yama, "it appears they built a lab for creating serum. There is also a section of the warehouse which is off limits except to specific staff which we suspect is being used for the reconstruction of the memory suppression machine. We have not seen your son but there is gossip about the boy child which the Power Broker keeps with her at all times."

"They say he is abnormally strong and killed a grown man before he was taken," said the second warrior woman, Nomble. "He is rumoured to be uncooperative when he is with Carter. Some have speculated that the Power Broker is attempting to purchase his mother back from the traffickers to secure his cooperation."

Bucky smirked. It would serve Sharon right. Tommy had no qualms about hitting him when he left them. If a rumour that he killed a man circulated it would put doubt in the minds of others about dealing with him.

"Can you spread other rumours about him?" he asked. "Things like he won't hesitate to kill the Power Broker if she turns her back. That sort of thing, just enough to keep them unsettled."

"Won't that put him in danger?" asked Nomble.

"He's a source of the serum," said Bucky. "She's gambled a lot on taking him to make more serum. But Sharon made her first tactical blunder getting rid of Lacey as she was the only leverage that could be used to keep Tommy in line. She did that to hurt me which was her second tactical blunder."

The two women nodded their assent and returned to the perimeter of the room. Sam looked at Bucky questioningly, pulling him aside. "Why would Sharon want to hurt you?" he asked in a low voice. "Did something happen between you two?"

Bucky's face was grim. "No, because I turned her down," he replied. "After I took her to a cash only doctor to get her fixed up in New York she asked if she could crash at my place. She came on to me in a big way, wanting to repay me."  He rolled his eyes.  "She never was my type so I pulled her arms off of me and told her no, very firmly. She didn't take the rejection well and got angry when I told her I was in love with Lacey with plans to get her back. Sharon stormed off and I went back to Brooklyn."

"Damn," whispered Sam. "That's messed up but it explains why she went after Lacey and Tommy so viciously. "

Hope and Scott approached them. "Mind if we take a trip to Sharon's place?" asked Scott. "At the least we can scope out possible entrances if we decide to go there on a raid."

"Okay," said Bucky. "Keep your comms on all the time and be careful. If she even gets a hint that we're here she'll send an army after us."

About twenty minutes later Scott and Hope began reporting what they were seeing at Sharon Carter's place. There was a party going on in the gallery that was full of party goers. Bucky told them to locate the residential portion of the apartment. They reported two guards standing in front of a door, finding access into the room through an air vent.

"Tommy's here," said Hope. "He's lying on the bed, on his side, sleeping ... no sedated. There's a syringe in the waste basket. He looks pale. I thought sedation didn't work well on super soldiers."

"It doesn't but he's young and his body might not be able to fight against it yet," replied Bucky. "Can you bring the empty syringe so we can determine what was in it?"

"Okay, I'm going to full size then I'll shrink again with it," said Hope, going quiet for a moment. "Done."

"What does access look like into the residential part of her place while a party is going on?" asked Bucky. "Does she have additional guards on duty other than the two in front of Tommy's door?"

"We only saw the two when we came through," said Scott.

They retreated from the bedroom and went through the residential portion of the apartment. As they were exchanging observations between each other Scott told Hope to go back to a certain wall.

"This is a false wall," he stated. "Look at the surface of it. It bows, as if it is cheap wallboard. I'm going to go to full size." They heard a knocking sound through the comms. "It's definitely hollow behind here. Hope, if I pry open the side can you fly in and see what's there?"

"Do it," she said, "then shrink again as soon as you can. You don't want to be caught." There was no sound for a few moments. "He's right. This is an old exterior entrance. Scott, go to the window nearest this spot and see what's there."

Again there was no sound then Scott laughed as he opened the window. "Ah ha!" he said excitedly. "There is a fire escape but they have boarded over the access on this floor. I'm going to see if I can pry a corner off. Hope, if you see me in infrared, fly out."

"I see you," said Hope, a moment later, "and the night sky. I think we found our access point."

"Get back here," said Bucky.

"On our way," said Hope.

Twenty minutes later they arrived back at the safe house, resuming their normal size. Hope brought the syringe out from a pocket on her uniform.  Taking it from her, Dr. Strange gingerly smelled it, curling his lip as he did so. Then he used magic to analyze it and the formula for it scrolled through the air, making him shake his head in disgust.

"Well?" asked Bucky.

"Midozolam," said Strange. "It's used to put you to sleep immediately and it keeps you from having memories of procedures done to you when it's used in a clinical setting. It depresses the central nervous system."

Bucky's vibranium hand curled into a fist as Dr. Strange described its effects. "Is it addictive?"

"Not if it's used in a single instance before surgery," he said, "but given repeatedly, yes. It's only used on a repetitive basis as an end-of-life palliative regimen, to reduce delirium in a patient, making them comfortable, before they ... move on."

Bucky's face became dark and everyone stopped as they watched him handle the information. Sam gently put his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Do you need to take a few minutes?" he asked gently.

"I need to beat the shit out of something or someone," was the barely audible reply from his tightly clenched mouth.

Then he took several deep breaths and slowly forced himself to deal with the anger coursing through his system. No one said anything until Bucky's hand finally relaxed and his breathing returned to normal. Clint had located blueprints of the apartment and brought them up on a tablet. With a wave of his hand Dr. Strange was able to project it in 3D in the air before them.  Scott showed where the fire escape was on the outside and where the boarded up wall on the inside was.

"That wallboard can be kicked out by anyone wearing a heavy boot," he said. "The outside is ¾ inch plywood but easily pulled off by Bucky or John. If we go in during one of her parties they probably won't hear us as the bass in the music is cranked right up to maximum. The guards might be a problem but Hope and I can probably take care of them."

"So are we going in?" asked Walker. "I'm getting pretty antsy waiting for the right opportunity."

"If we do go in then I want to hit the warehouse at the same time," replied Bucky. "We need to shut that place down, destroy the serum and the memory suppression machine. Do we have blueprints for the warehouse?"

"No, but we can start scanning while we're there tomorrow," said Yama. "A kimoyo bead from our bracelets can be configured to compile a floor plan without anyone noticing."

"Do it but be careful," replied Bucky. "Do you know if Sharon is hosting a party tomorrow night?"

"She hosts a party every night," said Sam. "What about the stolen artworks at her place? Should we recover them?"

"We can only do that if we get rid of the partygoers," declared Bucky then he looked at Walker and thought of something. "Which we can do if there is a fire alarm. People are conditioned to obey it. We're also taking Sharon into custody." There were sounds of concern over this decision. "As long as she is free Lacey and Tommy will always be at risk. We take her in and destroy her base of operations so no one else can come in and take over."

Bucky looked from face to face, receiving nods of approval from everyone. It was important to him that everyone was on board with his plan as he didn't want anyone going off on their own agenda.

"Okay, after we get the floor plans of the warehouse, we hit it and her residence tomorrow evening," said Bucky. "Torres, I want you on the warehouse with Sam. You'll be more effective there. You too, John. Destroy that memory suppression machine even if you have to tear it apart by hand. Clint, explosives everywhere. Yama, Nomble, do your thing. I want the rest of my original team with me. Maria, you'll bring Tommy by portal back to the compound where Dr. Banner can examine him. You make sure you tell him what was injected into Tommy. Everyone else, once that fire alarm goes it's a smash and grab for the stolen artworks while I go after Sharon. Everyone disable the guards, destroy infrastructure, make a mess. We're tearing both places apart. Any questions?" He looked around. "Okay, get a good rest tonight. If we do this right we can get it done tomorrow night."

Everyone bunked down where they could. Most of the beds were given over to the women while Bucky and Sam had no problem with the floor. Peter webbed up some hammocks which were surprisingly comfortable according to those who used them. After only having a couple of hours sleep in the previous two days Bucky had no problem dropping off and was sleeping quite well until he heard his name softly spoken close to his ear. He opened his eyes to see Dr. Strange kneeling beside him, motioning for him to get up. They went to a window where Strange placed a spell around them so they could talk in private.

"How much do you trust John Walker?" he asked point blank.

"About half the time," replied Bucky. "Why?"

"He serves another master," said Strange. "One who is very interested in what Carter is doing. He may take some of the serum that has been made already."

"Who does he work for?" asked Bucky.

"Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine," said Strange. "I took the liberty of running your plan through the time stone. We have a very good chance of success but Walker's actions concern me."

"Can you restrain him?" asked Bucky.

"Certainly," replied Strange as if it were a foregone conclusion.

"Then once we return to the compound you restrain him," said Bucky. "I'll take the serum from him and we destroy it. Did you happen to see if they took any more blood from Tommy?"

Strange smiled. "Just what they're converting to serum now," he said. "He fought them tooth and nail which is why he was sedated. He's a brave boy. One more thing." Bucky looked at him questioningly. "I couldn't locate her but Lacey is remembering who she is. It's possible she will not be put into the auction as her value decreases the more she remembers of her previous life. If that is the case then her wellbeing is at risk. I would suggest that you join up with the Wakandans as soon as we're done here. They will need you. Lacey will need you."

Bucky thanked him, returning to his sleeping location. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but it was no use as Strange's information bothered him. He really thought he was making inroads into John Walker's psyche. If he was working with the Contessa that could be bad news. Yelena had been contracted by the Contessa to kill Clint, on behalf of another client but the Contessa willingly delivered the assignment. She even told the young woman that Clint had murdered her sister, Natasha. After learning the truth Yelena had undergone some soul searching then showed up at the Avengers compound, looking for Nick Fury. Still, they needed Walker for this mission and perhaps there was a chance he could learn the responsibilities that came with being a super soldier. Perhaps.

As promised the Dora Milaje returned with a full floor plan of the warehouse except for the off limits room. They were able to project it holographically from their kimoyo beads so everyone that was going on the warehouse raid would know what to expect in terms of security, location, etc. Because of Dr. Strange's warning Bucky already spoke to Sam during the day, giving him the heads up but warned him against confronting Walker so as not to trigger him. When the time came for them to leave for the raids Strange provided a portal for each team. At the High Town building Hope and Scott entered first to confirm that no one was near the fire escape. Bucky leaped up, grasping and pulling down the fire escape ladder that allowed everyone to get to the first level then he continued running up to the top of stair structure and pulled the plywood off. Once everyone was with him on the top platform he pushed the wallboard in allowing them all to enter unseen. Hope and Scott took out both guards at Tommy's door. Hope then located the fire alarm and waited near it for the signal to pull it. Bucky broke into the bedroom and kneeled beside his son, stroking his hair, furious at seeing him sedated but also relieved he was alive.

"Tommy," he said, shaking his shoulder. "Can you hear me?" There was no response and he lifted him into Maria's arms then signalled Dr. Strange on his comms piece. "Stephen, open a portal for Maria and Tommy, please."

The portal opened and she stepped through carrying the boy, straight to the Avengers compound. Hope was given the signal, pulled the alarm and as predicted, everyone in the party began filing out as the klaxons sound. While the crowd dispersed the team moved in during the confusion, taking out security guards guarding the stolen art works. Bucky searched the space, still lit by the pulsating lighting, located Sharon and began making his way to her. When she spotted Bucky she sent two body guards after him but Peter saw them first, webbing both men up. Approaching the doorway that Sharon left through Bucky went up a flight of stairs to the roof, where she was just stepping into a helicopter, the pilot ready to take off. Pulling out a handgun he took aim at one of the rotors and damaged it, necessitating the pilot to shut down. He bailed, taking cover elsewhere. Sharon fired back at Bucky, making him take cover.

"Give up Sharon," he yelled from his cover. "I have a team destroying your lab and warehouse, Tommy is safe and being treated by a doctor, and you have no way out of here, except with me."

"We could have been a good team, Bucky," Sharon yelled back. "You would have been rich beyond belief. We could have made a fortune selling serum."

"That was never going to happen," he replied loudly. "You know that. You never should have taken Lacey and Tommy, either."

"What did you ever see in her, Bucky?" she called back. "Weak, old before her time, and a major bitch as well. We would have been great together. I would have done whatever you wanted between the sheets."

"You really don't get it, do you?" he answered. "You're poison, Sharon.  I was never interested in you." 

He could hear a cry of rage and shook his head at the arrogance of the woman.  As the sounds of her venting her frustration with angry screams continued he heard Hope in his comms piece.

"I'm right behind her Bucky," said Hope. "Peter is with me. Give the signal and I'll push her out of the chopper while Peter webs her up."

"Roger that," he said quietly. He yelled at Sharon again. "One more chance to give up, Sharon. It's over for you."

She responded by firing her gun at him until she emptied the magazine. Bucky gave the word and Hope pushed Sharon out of the helicopter so she fell on her knees. Peter wrapped her in a web before she could get up. Hope flashed to full size and together, she, Peter and Bucky looked down at Sharon as she struggled against the web.

"You think you've beaten me?" Sharon boasted. "The CIA will have me out by morning."

"They've disavowed you," said Bucky. "Three dead FBI agents was three too many, even for those vipers. Besides, you'll be in the Raft by then and even they aren't stupid enough to try and break anyone out of there." He kneeled down to her.  "It really bothered you that Steve went back for Peggy, didn't it?  You had your brief moment with him then he didn't come looking for you after you brought him the shield."

"All my life I only ever heard how wonderful Steve was," she fumed.  "Then he left me dangling in the wind."

Bucky thought of something at that moment.  "That night I took you to the doctor you were going to knock me out and put me into the machine, weren't you?"  She said nothing but she didn't have to as it was written all over her face.  He stood up and pressed his comms earpiece to speak to Sam. "How's it going over there?"

"Almost done," replied his friend. "The machine was in that room and John is tearing it apart. Clint will put some explosives on it for good measure. We're still smashing the lab up before we blow everything. About that matter you spoke to me about, he did."

"Okay, once you've blown it, return to the safe house to pick up our equipment, then we'll get a portal to the compound," ordered Bucky. "We'll deal with that matter there. Good work, Cap."

Bucky went to pick Sharon up but Peter put his hand out. "You'll stick to her," he said. "I can carry her."

As Bucky stepped back Peter easily picked Carter up and slung her easily over his shoulder. It was most undignified but both Bucky and Hope smiled broadly at the sight. They joined the others meeting at the exit to the fire escape.  Nearly every one carried either a stolen painting or sculpture that would be returned to its rightful owner.

"Dr. Strange, we're ready for a portal here," said Bucky on his comms. "If you would oblige us, please."

A portal opened on the top level of the fire escape and they all stepped through to the house. Shortly after they were joined by the warehouse team who reported the warehouse was completely destroyed and burning out of control.

"We might take out some other illegal operations in Low Town," said Sam. "It was unavoidable really. It's drawing a real good crowd, though."

"Catch on fire and people will come for miles to see you burn," said Bucky. "John Wesley said that. He formed the Methodist Church." The others looked at him strangely. "I read ... a lot."

When everyone had everything Dr. Strange opened a portal to the compound. Instead of opening it outside he opened it indoors. A crew took custody of the stolen artworks while Peter removed the web from around Carter.  She was taken by several MPs to a holding cell. Dr. Strange, Sam and Bucky all observed Walker as he walked around shaking hands with the others over the successful mission. Then he straightened up and looked at his watch casually.

"Well, Olivia will be up," he said. "If I leave now I might catch her for brunch. Thanks for inviting me on the mission, Bucky. It felt good."

"Before you go, John," said Bucky ominously. "Is there anything you want to give me?"

Walker looked at him, colouring a little then his eyes shifted. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, looking at Bucky defiantly. "What are you talking about?"

Bucky looked at Dr. Strange who put a restraining spell on Walker. Unzipping a pocket on Walker's pants Bucky pulled out three vials of serum. He frisked Walker but didn't find any more. Holding up the three vials he looked sadly at the former Captain America.

"I asked you to join us in good faith," Bucky said to him. "I thought by showing you the straight and narrow path you would understand the responsibilities that go along with being a super soldier. Being truthful to yourself is as important as being truthful to others. Tell the Contessa no one can be trusted with the serum. Thanks for your help this time but I won't ask again as you've shown you can't be counted on to stay onside."  He started to turn away then looked back at the man.  "I will still uphold my offer to defend your wife and child if it ever comes to that."

Strange released him and Walker angrily looked down at the ground before looking at everyone who now saw him with disappointed eyes. An MP came out with his belongings then escorted him off the premises. Maria approached touching Bucky gently on the arm.

"Tommy's awake and is asking for you," she said kindly. "I'll show you the medical lab."

Bucky handed the vials to Dr. Strange. "Could you please destroy these for me?" he asked.

Strange nodded and destroyed them on the spot as they disappeared with a slight puff of scattered light. Bucky followed Maria to the medical lab where Bruce Banner was sitting next to Tommy's bed. He stood up when Bucky came in, pulling him aside briefly.

"It's good you found out what they gave him," he said. "He had several injection sites but I think his high metabolism will prevent it from becoming a problem. His memories of what they did to him while under are sketchy and giving him some grief but you know what that's like."

"Thanks Bruce," said Bucky, gratefully. "Is he okay to be moved to a different location?"

Bruce nodded his agreement then gave them their privacy. Bucky sat down in the chair, gazing emotionally at his son who looked back at him, deciding whether to trust his father or not.

"I'm sorry," murmured Bucky leaning towards the frightened boy. "I got scared when I had a PTSD flashback. It made me think that I could physically hurt you and your mom. Instead of talking about it I pushed you both away and that was wrong of me. If you never want to see me again I understand."

"I'm sorry I spit on you," replied Tommy in a small voice as his lips trembled. "I was so angry at you. Uncle Terry tried to explain about PTSD but I didn't understand until now. It's when you remember bad things that have happened to you. Will I have PTSD?"

Bucky almost cried at the agonized face Tommy was showing him. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

"Maybe," he answered. "If you do, you can talk to me about it because I will understand. They hurt you and they hurt your mom in front of you. You'll never forget that but you can learn to live with it."

Tommy nodded, then he looked at Bucky hesitantly. "Dad, can I have a hug?" he asked plaintively. "I really need you to hug me."

Without hesitation Bucky took Tommy in his arms and held him close, whispering how proud he was of him for trying to fight back. As his son cried Bucky told him it was okay to cry for as long as he wanted. They sat like that for some time until Tommy settled down and began to pull away. There were tissues in a box on a side table and Bucky pulled several out for Tommy so he could blow his nose.

"Are you going to get Mom now?" Tommy asked. "They took her memories away then sold her, Dad, like she meant nothing to them. The man who bought her knew her. He said she shouldn't have given the flash drive to the FBI. I wanted to hurt him."

"I got him and he will never get out of prison," replied Bucky. "But he had already passed your Mom on to someone else. While I came to get you the Wakandans started looking for your mom with a special squad of people who deal with those type of criminals. I have to go to them now, and help them find and rescue your Mom. When I do, I'll send her to you. If she forgives me then I'll make it right with both of you. I'll marry her, legally adopt you and we'll be a real family. That's my promise to you, Tommy."

"Alright," said the boy. "Will I be safe while you're gone?"

"I'll make arrangements for you to be safe," said Bucky. "I don't know who will take care of you yet, but they're all Avengers and you're part of the Avengers family now that I'm one."

Tommy looked at him in surprise, with bright eyes and a smile. "Really?" he asked. "You're an Avenger?"

"Yeah," smiled Bucky, feeling something warm inside at the look on his son's face. "Turns out I'm kind of good at it."

Tommy hugged him hard making Bucky feel like his heart would burst with happiness. He kissed Tommy's head then put him back on the bed and promised to see him before he left. As he left the lab he smiled at Banner in thanks, then sought out Fury who was in the same office he had been the day before.

"The other team destroyed the lab, serum, and the memory suppression machine," reported Bucky. "Tommy was rescued, Sharon Carter taken into custody and we took possession of the stolen art works she was fencing. Walker tried to take three vials of serum but Dr. Strange alerted me to the possibility and we recovered them. They've been destroyed. After I make arrangements for Tommy to be looked after I'm joining the Wakandan anti-trafficking unit to find Lacey. I also accept your offer."

Fury pushed a contract towards Bucky, with a pen. "I thought you would," he said. "You can live anywhere in the country but you're on call 24/7. We'll make it worth your while pay wise as the governments of many countries have realized that funding the team will be worth it. Full medical benefits for you and your family. $2,000,000 life insurance policy if you're killed or disabled in the line of duty. If you decide to buy a farm I can help acquire it, off the books, of course."

Bucky picked up the contract and began reading it. One of the benefits of the serum for him was his reading speed could be as fast as he needed it. When he read for pleasure he liked to savour the written word, take his time to enjoy the reading material. But when he read any type of business correspondence he could get through it quickly with 100% understanding and retention. Within a minute he had read the full contract and he picked up the pen, signing it. Then he pushed it back and stood up. Looking intently at Nick he took a breath.

"I realized that I never made amends with you," he said with feeling. "I'm sorry I shot you in 2014. I know now why Alexander Pierce ordered me to do it. You're a man of action. You give the people under your command the freedom to act independently and you back them up when they do. Not Pierce. He wanted to be in control of everything and everyone. People like Rumlow interpreted it to mean that everything was to be handled with brute force to make people submit to them in fear. I was their blunt weapon that they pointed at anyone they determined was a threat. You were definitely a threat to them. Thank you for trusting me to be an Avenger. I won't let you down. That's my pledge."

Fury stood up and offered his hand. "Like I said before," he stated, "you have a strong personal moral code. Once the HYDRA programming was dealt with I had no doubts that you would serve as well as Steve Rogers did. You were both cut from the same cloth and went through the same crucible that was World War II. When he identified who you were I knew that he could help bring you back from the personal hell you were in. Time has proven him right. Welcome to the Avengers. As for Tommy, Clint Barton has already offered to take him back to the farm. We'll make sure he gets there safely. You have my word."

Bucky shook Fury's hand then sought out Clint to confirm the offer.  He returned to Tommy to inform him, sharing some more bonding moments with his son. After another very welcome goodbye hug Bucky picked up his weapons and go bags, then met up with Yama and Nomble. Dr. Strange opened a portal for them and they stepped through to a safe house in Germany. It was early evening there and Ayo, as well as half a dozen others, were waiting, including a face from his past that gave him pause. Everett Ross, who was Deputy Task Force Commander of the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre in Berlin when Bucky was apprehended stepped forward with his hand outstretched.

"Sergeant Barnes," he said, "I'm here to help, if you'll let me. I'm sorry about what I said and thought about you in Berlin. It's obvious you aren't the Winter Soldier anymore. If you don't want me here I'll leave."

"What have you got?" asked Bucky, after a short time studying Ross' face.

Then he put his hand on Ross' shoulder and turned to the photos that were spread out on a table. He wasn't going to say no to anyone's help in finding Lacey.

Chapter 22>>

Series Masterlist

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[askstevella]

See you again event bonus scene / Earth 65

—-

A couple of hours after Steve return home with Thiego, he gave himself some time to breathe. To let Thiego hang out with his little sister, as you can hear some laughter, a light sense of sobbing and chatter coming from down the hallway. Hell he could hear Natasha and the girls rolling into a little conversation with his wife, Liane even mentioned she is gonna paint her nails a pretty teal color.

Yes it sounds horrible to some that he didn’t see his own wife right away the moment he returned but he wanted to freshen up properly before he did. Which meant he took a quick trip to the flower shop downtown and the farmers market, then came home to have a nice little shower. As he showered, all he could think about was the memories that the other version of Stella placed to the forefront of his mind as he smiled softly at the mere thought. He forgot about the tiny yet memorable moments he shared with his wife.

The day they met in 2010 to him asking her out on a date as she gladly said yes, to their soft dating period where he kept that secret time away from the team. He didn’t bother to tell his teammates about dating the SHIELD nurse yet for 2 years, it never came up until 2012 when the battle of New York came Natasha noticed how he kept his gaze every once in a while on a few agents and nurses on the Helicarrier. She smirked but didn’t say a word until after the battle was over and jokingly teased Steve, along with Tony and Bruce about who it was that he liked.

He was even shown his period from 2013–2015, where SHIELD and The Avengers members worked alongside one another to do good. His time in Washington DC for 2 years living with her as Stella and his friend down the hallway who pretended to be a nurse was actually a agent called Sharon Carter. Finding out about SHIELD being compromised with Sam Wilson, Natasha, Fury and Maria. Bucky being alive and searching for him.

They took a lot of hits but everything turned around as Sam and Steve found Bucky, able to coax the man into coming to get some real help after a couple of visits to his apartment. Bucky said yes, coming to live at Avengers Tower with the others, meeting Elle and after a long while starting to date Sam.

Steve remember the whole Ultron thing with Elle, 2015 was a great year having been together for 6 years at that point as the idea of marriage and kids started to roll around in their heads. Especially after the whole Clint Barton farm visit, talking with Laura and meeting his beautiful family. Bucky was teased by Sam about having little monsters running around the compound.

And they did talk about it, as 2016 he got down on one knee in front of everyone during a dinner party, giving a sweet speech and asking who to be his girl til the day he died, as she said yes. Bucky, Natasha and Tony were the first ones to think of a engagement party, as all the girls and guys gushed. It was also the year of the accident for Elle, as she was pretty banged up and went in and out of surgery, as he stood by her and did everything he could to nurse her back to health. In which she did, getting a dose of magic added to her system. Months later the two were married having a little celebration at the compound.

Years later, The Accords happened (nothing bad since the avengers were able to fool and outsmart the government. Hell Black Panther was on their side along with The X-Men), Thanos never really came in full force as he was a huge one and done, but Ultron did make a few returns across the years. Yet the series of heroes and anti-heroes, young and old were able to defend their world every time.

As of now in the—

“Daddy?”

~~~

Steve was in the kitchen in his thoughts already, creating a simple meal and organized a special bouquet of flowers when he heard the small voice. He looked over his shoulder to see a pair of brown eyes and rich light blonde curls meeting him halfway. Her cute little dress and wearing indoor shoes, as she held up her notebook.

Sarah Theodora Rogers. She was a spit image of his mother from the first name to her short blonde curls. However her eyes and nose were all Elle’s and her facial expressions were a clever mix of both parents. Her middle name was inspired by Thiego Strange, her uncle.

He smiled, placing her on the kitchen counter pushing the curls away from her faces.

“What are you doing here? I thought you and Pietro were spending the day together.” He asked with a smile, looking at the sandwich that was being grilled in the frying pan.

She shrugged with a smile, “Oh I was! But then we got sidetracked at the park after he realized he had to guy groceries and then he met a pretty girl…”

“And then he went a date with her?”

“No, he asked her where he could buy some donuts, so he can give them to Ji-Hoon.”

“Ah okay, what about afterwards?”

“Then he dropped me off at Wanda and Ethan who were watching Sitcoms. Uh, I got bored and found you.”

“And found me you did. I’m making lunch, you hungry?”

She nodded with a grin as he went to work making her a grilled cheese and ham sandwich. He would have mad something more grand but he knew she would have liked something more simple today. Besides she adored his sandwiches more than anything!

Sarah noticed the two sets of flowers. She pointed out the daisies and tulips, asking, “Who are those for?”

“The daisies are for you. The tulips are for mama. You like ‘em?” He asked, placing two plates next to the frying pan ready to put the sandwiches on them.

“Very! I um..uh daddy, I have a question. Is momma gonna be okay? Like get better?”

He put the sandwiches on 2 different plates and paused. He couldn’t lie to her in a sense, he was smart enough to notice and braver than he could believe, being very proud of her for it.

He tried to find the words and nodded, “..okay. Uh, honestly sweetie, i don’t know the true answer to that. I like to believe she will get better and push through it, especially with how much love and support we all give her..there are days where she doing better than most, there are days where she weaker than others..but she will get better.”

“And if she doesn’t? I know about life and death, Grandpa Stephen says that he sees it a lot in the hospital..auntie Nat says it is part of life..” Sarah repiled with a curious look on her face, as if trying to make sense of it all.

“Well, remember that birdie you and Theigo found one day after school?”

“Yeah?”

“And how she was hurt really badly so you tried to take care of her? Then afterwards she was doing fine and once the world made it clear, she flew away into another life..”

“Yeah it was sad but she looked calm when she died.”

“Mhm exactly, she wasn’t scared. Remember what happened a few days later?”

Sarah smiled this time and nodded, “My teacher got us a class bird! Her name Ruby, even though she is blue. It was like she was meant for our class, or least that’s what my teacher said.”

Steve chuckled, “Exactly. What happened with your birdie, is that she moved on but her spirt stayed to bring joy. So her next life, she must’ve became that bird to watch over your class, like a mascot.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Mommy is gonna turn into a bird?”

“Hahaha, maybe. Depends on what life has in store for her but I know for certain that she will be watching over us and let us know she’s still around in her own way.”

“How do you know so much, Daddy?”

“I just do. Just like I know your grandma Sarah, who you’re named after, is doing the same thing right now.”

Sarah smiled brightly and hugged her father, as Steve wrapped his arms around her tightly showering her face with kisses as she giggled. Once the father-daughter duo pulled away, Sarah brought the flowers to her room then came back following her father into the living room as he requested of she can bring the tulips to her mom for him as he carried the sandwiches.

~~~

In the living room, sat Elle on the couch with a blanket over her legs to keep her warm as she flipped across channels looking for something entertaining enough to watch. She looked very much less pale than when he left as she got a lot of color back, she laughed like herself again at the movie silly slapstick humor and her hair looked to be in a low ponytail.

She was playing with a old colorful fan in her hand, waving her around making silly flirtatious eyes as the paired walked into the room.

It made Steve’s smile grow at the sight. She was doing a lot better today and he thanked the universe for that gift. He winked at her doing so.

Sarah was the first to reach the couch, holding the flowers up to her mother giggling as she curled into her arms. Elle wrapped her arms around her daughter kissing her cheeks and thanked her for the bouquet, giving the fan over to her to play with. She knew how much Sarah loved that fan as she stayed twirling it around, resting her head on her shoulder.

Steve sat down on the other side of his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek and handed her the plate. She thanked him, watching Sarah take her own plate and started to dig in, looking up at the silly film as she did so. Elle took a bite of her sandwich, humming at the delicious food in front of her and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

Midway through eating, Elle stopped and looked at her husband. Steve glanced over as he locked eyes with her alert, asking, “Are you okay? You need anything?”

She scoffed chuckling, “Relax! I’m fine..I feel better today.”

“You look better. You’re cheeks are rosy and your not as pale.”

“I noticed. A little tired but I’m fine. I know what you did earlier.”

He raised an eyebrow as he click onto what she meant and sighed, “Elle, doll, I’m sorry it’s just…”

“I know..” She simply replied, with a half hearted smile, “I overheard Thiego and Bruce talking with Nat down the hall when Liane was painting my nails. They weren’t subtle enough about it..you are insane, you know that?”

“I had a plan! Make the plan, execute the plan and expect the plan to not go off the rails. Yes, I was a little extreme the last 48 hours..”

“A little?”

“A lot. I broke a few short grids, bruised a rib or two..then made a mistake to take ones life over another..not my best move. I was not thinking straight, baby..and ran past a few stop signs as well to buy myself some time.”

“You broke into another Earth’s SHIELD headquarters and tricked a few people to get to another version of me..meanwhile Thiego was searching across the fields of earths causing some damage to strike a deal. You two could’ve been arrested for that.”

“I know. I know! I made that version of Cap to look like public enemy to SHIELD by causing that damage..I’m sorry, I messed up but it was because I was afraid..”

“..of losing me? Instead of staying with me and enjoying whatever time the universe is giving us..”

“Well if you say like that, I sound even worse.”

This time Elle snorted and chuckled shaking her head at his comment. She didn’t blame him for it, she knew the people in her life would do anything to make things right, find another way to fix things. Even if it meant getting hurt or something.

Steve rested his forehead against hers, a simple yet gentle move he does plenty of time before during moments like this. She leaned into his touch. He sighed and smiled, letting out a chuckle.

After a moment tears came to the blink of her eyes as he spoke, “I got your note today..it was lovely. Bittersweet like a poem, almost like a song. You’re my first love, Elle. I don’t want to see you gone yet..but when it comes I won’t be as scared or furious as I think I would be..”

She smiled had her eyes wet and asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because I know you won’t be alone. None of us will. You gave me the greatest gifts I could ever ask for. I could not thank you enough for being my wife and friend from the day I woke up in this century. You gave me a beautiful little girl who laughs like you and has my mother’s name.”

“And Thiego likes to brag about her being his mini me.”

“This is about me, not him.”

Both of them laughed, snorting at the joke. She knew he was joking. Steve was being humorous with that last comment, of course he was happy that his brother in law got a wonderful gift as well.

She smirked, waved for him to continue his lovely speech, “Go on, Mr Rogers. I like where this is headed.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me now, Elle.” He replied with a smile and winked, “If you do, I might have to take you to bed later. In all seriousness, you are always gonna be my light in dark. Despite the problems we have had over the years, we always find a way to make it home to one another.”

“You are my home. My family.”

“And you’re mine. I know when the time comes I will see you again any form. Even if we’re both two little birds flying in the park.”

Elle paused for a second to understand what he meant by the birds reference, noticing his gaze fell to Sarah who was minding her own business watching the movie, as it clicked what he meant. She smiled at that, knowing that no matter who it is that goes first to fly around in heaven their daughter will be safe and sound.

She nodded at her husband and chuckled, “Yeah, two beautiful birds. I love Mr. Rogers.”

“I love more Mrs. Rogers.” He replied, leaning forward to cup her face with a hand and press a long awaited kiss onto her lips.

She leaned into his touch placing a hand to the back of his cheek as she returned kiss in full force.

They stayed there for a couple of moments, locking lips with one another whispering sweet nothings, resting their foreheads together out of old habits. Steve lazily wrapping an around her body, bringing her in closer using the other hand to reach over to tickle Sarah’s side grabbing her attention as she giggled trying to wiggle away from her parents.

Elle opened her arm, wiggling her fingers to tickle their daughter as tried to crawl away but Elle gently reached forwarded lifting Sarah into an embrace. The little girl giggled and smiled, curling into her mother’s arms in glee stealing a bite of the sandwich her mom didn’t finished, then placed the sandwich in front of her father who took bite himself humming.

Elle mock gasped, “Hey that was mine!”

Steve finished chewing and chuckled, “You didn’t finish it! And I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“Are not.”

Sarah giggled, “Yes you are, daddy! You and uncle Thor and uncle Bucky always are hungry.”

Steve gasped and tickled her, “Who’s side are you on, young lady?”

“Mommy’s side!”

The small family laughed smiling, deciding to enjoy the film that was placed on the TV.

——

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! Tell me what you think about?

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @mallowbee4 @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

[professionalranter31]

So who do I think will next be added into Marvel Rivals?

I’m hoping for one of the Hulks just because I want to see how they’ll be different from Hulk

However based off the lore stuff I have a few ideas

Knull, Dracula, and Doom seem no brainers since they’re being built up to be villains

Zola is on a poster in the hydra map

They already have a design for Shuri from the animations

Blade, Mister Fantastic, The Thing, Human Torch, and Invisible Woman have all been hinted at and leaked that they’re being g work on

Then there’s those like Agent Thirteen/Sharon Carter and Nick Fury who were mentioned in Hawkeye and Black Widow’s stories respectively

Possibly Ratatoskr given she seems to be a key to beating Dracula in the lore

Definitely some other members of the Spiders given the story going on with Spider-Zero and the Master Weaver although how many remains to be seen

There was reference to Morbius in a dialogue between Spider-Man and Cloak & Dagger

Given that Stormbreaker is in the game on the Yggsgard convoy map they could be planning to add Beta Ray Bill, plus in the dialogue between Spider-Man and Thor where he’s referenced Jane Foster is also referenced so potential for her

I’d also say some of the other champions like Iron Fist will be added (also does anyone know if Danny Rand become something else after a new Iron Fist is picked?)

And finally I’d say Red Skull is a possibility given he was referenced in the Hydra story for Doom’s Rise

I really like how they’re able to hint at potential future heroes and villains to be added with all the lore they have in the game so this is fun