#and yes i did stomp it to death with my leather cowboy boots

[belalugosiseyebrows]

POV, you are the cockroach I saw in the corner of my bathroom floor 2 months ago

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I’m so excited for all of the unnatural travesties we’ll get from you tonight around the dumpster fire of shame!!! How about a Fuck Marry Kill, but with a blurb on each one of course, for Captain Blowhole, This is Sparta, and I’m Your Huckleberry!

Unleash the shame and crack!!!

@safarigirlsp YOUR MIND IS SO DEPRAVED AND IM ALWAYS LIVING FOR IT!😂 

GET READY FOR THE WILDEST RIDE A YER LIFE DARLIN’! 

FMK WITH THE CRACK AU’S: CAPTAIN BLOWHOLE, THIS IS SPARTA, AND OF COURSE.... HUCKLEBERRY 

FUCK: CAPTAIN BLOWHOLE 

Flip loved the sea and all its sea-crets (i hate myself) it held. Yes he grew very fond of you as well, keeping his cock nice and warm every night while you wailed on top of him. His balls never felt so light as his cum stayed nice and safe in your slick folds at all hours of the day. But if there was one thing he detested more than death, it was marriage. 

He never felt like he was the committed type, leaving you to question all the progress you’d made on his salty heart. Finally settling with what this all really was in the end, a quick fuck and forget. 

You hated the idea of being a pawn in his game, cursed him for it every time he entered your pussy, but the hate-fucking made it more exciting than anything in the entire ocean. 

You soon grew to enjoy being his own personal pet of sorts, him using you as his personal cumbucket whenever he needed to relieve his frustrations. 

Never once muttering the words commitment once you’d figured out his triggers. The one night you did resulted in a night spent in the barracks with the crew, grabbing at your clothing, shredding it to pieces as you cowered in the corner, kicking their grubby hands from your skin. The mutual relationship was enough to get you out of the stuffy town you’d grown up in, full of drunks and homeless buccaneers, taking even more advantage of your beauty than Flip had already. 

At least he was handsome, and well-endowed in just about every department you could think of. You craved the adventure, the smell of the salt in the sea, the wind in your pretty locks as you trekked the world with the Jolly Roger. 

Getting fucked into oblivion every single night, eating gourmet dinners, being gifted with all the treasures of the Seven Seas, even participating in a battle or two amongst the rivaling pirate ships. It was perfect. Being his personal pocket pussy was just enough to keep you satisfied. 

MARRY: THIS IS SPARTA 

The wedding would be short and sweet. The entire village present as the nuptials of the two most beautiful people in the community were to be finally joined with the Gods blessing their union. 

You were draped in the finest silks your family could provide, the white illuminating your skin in a halo of glitter as you walked down the path to the steps of the temple. The grin plastered on your warrior rivaling Zeus himself as he watched you glide down the aisle, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers in your delicate fingers. 

You hid your face under a sheer veil, a small crown adorning your head as he was clad in his full army gear, including the Spartan helmet which covered his precious nose from your view. 

He and you were only able to remove the garb when the officiant blessed the marriage. You traipsed up the stairs, grabbing the majority of your silks in your free hand as you came to his place on the marbled floor. 

He held a large hand to which you took, both of you gazing into one another’s eyes as you waited for the end of the ceremony. 

“Phillip,” the senator pronounced, “will you uphold the will of the Gods to complete the duty to your country, as well as your commitments to this woman you’ve chosen to be yours?” 

Flip turned his head from the minister, to gaze into your precious eyes, smiling before he answers slightly above a whisper, “I do,” a chorus of javelins hitting the ground as the warriors in his guild were present in their full gear to witness their leader wed. 

“Y/N,” the senator turned to your direction, “will you uphold the will of the Gods to complete the duties to your country, as well as your commitments to this warrior you have been blessed with to be your betrothed?” turning your neck back to face him as his amber eyes swirled in your brain. 

“I do,” hitching a breath as you released the anxiety that had built up throughout the day of getting prepared for him. 

“Then it is the will of Zeus and Hera to bless this sacred union in holy matrimony,” he pronounced to the crowd of hundreds gathered, “you may seal your duties with a kiss,” gesturing for the removal of your coverings. 

He let go to remove the golden helmet, his ravened hair falling over his face in curls as he fixed himself enough to remove your veil. Your beauty shimmering in the light of day like a beacon, the smile on your face rivaling Aphrodite’s gorgeous stare. 

He pulled you to him, gripping the back of your head to tilt it to his face, embracing your lips in a searing kiss. The movements only increasing as the crowd signaled their agreements with the union, cheering and stomping their feet while throwing flower petals into the air in celebration. 

Yes the wedding would be short, but the reception would last days. The people dancing in the streets over your love. Women weeping as they watched their only chance with Flip fade away as you both gazed into each other, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. 

“I love you my muse,” he whispered by the lit bonfire surrounded by dancers, celebrating your marriage. 

“I love you too my strong warrior,” running a finger along his jaw as he leaned in to give you another kiss, your tongues laving over each other as you both fell into each other’s embrace. 

KILL: IM YOUR HUCKLEBERRY

“Phil!” you screamed, tied to the bed of the truck in a spread eagle pattern, naked as a jay-bird in the cool night. 

“Fuck! Phillip! I’m gonna kill you!” crying out as your empty pussy puckered from the breeze that blew over the Colorado Springs plains. 

You heard a deep chuckle roll from the side of the truck, the flick of his bic lighting a cigarette that he blew smoke out from your peripheral, “aw darlin’, don’t promise somethin’ ya can’t keep,” a grunt leaving his lips as he lifted a spurred boot on his tailgate, the motion causing the entire bed to shake. 

“I said what I said,” spitting a wad to smack on the leather of the shoe as you shivered in the cold, “there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it, cowboy,” arching an eyebrow at the smirk that landed across his face again. 

“Oh, sugar,” he cooed, lifting his entire weight on his tailgate, pulling the knots on your ankles to make sure they still held up from your writhing, “there’s a million things I could do about it,” pressing a spur to dig into the flesh of your thigh, the metal causing you to wail out in pain as it drew the slightest bit of blood. 

“Just fuck me already you son of a bitch!” gritting your teeth to sand as he dug further into your perfect skin. 

“Hold the fuck on,” he growled out, sucking the last of his filter as he lowered to your mound, watching your hole open and close from the bite of the air, “last time I checked, brats like you don’t get anything they want,” running his free hand over your slicked up folds, a hiss leaving your mouth as you felt his gritty fingers touch your pretty pussy. 

“You’re such a goddamn slut,” snarling as he lowered the burning end of his cigarette on your other thigh, ashing it on your delicate epidermis. 

“Motherfucker!” the pain unbearable as he pushed the ashes into the welt, “Flip! Goddamnit!” a gush of slick dripping down to your asshole as you cursed his name into the night. 

“I know ya like the pain, whore!” spitting into your open mouth as he grabbed the trail of wetness and rimmed your puckered butthole with his thumb. 

“I’m gonna,” you winced out, moaning as he pushed his digit into your ass, “I-I,” losing yourself in the feeling of his other fingers filling your gaping cunt, coaxing them to close in on them like a finger trap. 

“You’re gonna what, sugar?” taunting as he watched your head roll back in pleasure, “you’re gonna kill me?” he chuckled again, watching you unravel on his fingers. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna do anything, baby doll,” feeling your walls close in on him as he brushed your G-spot, “in fact, I think you’re gonna cum all over my hand... like the fuckin’ slut you are,” cooing with his Cameled breath as he watched you come closer and closer to bliss. 

“You’re gonna cum,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna do it right now, Y/N,” growling out as he ran his free thumb over your aching clit, sending you into a frenzy of euphoria, the pressure built up so much from all of this causing you to release your spend in a stream that coated the entirety of his large hand. 

Yes, you were gonna kill him, but not until after he made you cum a few more times tonight. 

HO-MY-GOD IM EXHAUSTED FROM THIS BUT I LOVE ALL OF IT WITH ALL MY HEART. THESE AU’S KILL ME IN THE BEST WAY!

[sicprowl]

Death by Chocolate

Dimitri and Cute Byleth stuff - bc why not?

“What the heck are you wearing?!”

Dimitri frowned, glancing down at his pristine white outfit with black trim, gold buttons, and matching blue and white cape.  Even his long hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, something he’d been proud of.

The nine year old couldn’t help but panic and clutch his novelty bag close, “I-It’s my costume!”

Sylvain blinked, his fake fangs peeking out from his upper lip.  "Yeah, I can see that!  But what are you supposed to be?!“

The red headed vampire guffawed only for Ingrid to stomp on his foot.  She then smacked him out of the way with her Valkyrie shield, “I think you look great Dimitri.”

That seemed to ease the young boy, “T-Thank you.  El helped me pick it out.”

Now it was Sylvain’s turn to be unsure, “Edelgard?  Your step-sister?”

Ingrid punched him with her shield again and gave the blond an approving nod.  "It’s great that you two are getting along.  Getting a new family is…tough.“

Dimitri didn’t reply, not needing to be told how hard it’d been when his father married her mother.  The boy had been excited to get a sibling, but all his interactions with said girl made him think she didn’t want anything to do with him.

"Where is Ms. Imperial Princess?”

“She’s with Hubert,” Dimitri answered as Ingrid hissed at him to stop it.  "They left the house before I was done getting ready…“

"All, tall dark and Snape-y.”  Sylvain snickered, earning another hit in the gut - only this time from an arriving Felix.

“Would you stop acting like an idiot?”  The shorter boy snarled while crossing his arms, “You’re embarrassing!”

Sylvain gave his friend an extra toothy grin, “Says the boy dressed up like Leonardo.”

“I’m a NINJA!  Not a ninja turtle!!”

The boys sniped at each other while they left Dimitri’s house and joined the many costumed kids filing around outside.  The sun was still out, so a lot of the younger kids were walking with parents or in large groups - much like their own.  It was going to be crowded like this for a while considering they were one of the better neighborhoods.  

Three words.  King sized bars.

“Is Dedue going to trick or treat with us?”  

Dimtri smiled at Ingrid, “Y-Yes.  He’s got to do something first, but he said he’d meet up with us soon.”

“I’m surprised he’s coming at all,” Sylvain shrugged as they came to the second house.  "Trick or treating might be too childish for him.“

"Says the eldest of the group,” Felix sniffed disapprovingly while Sylvain looked affronted.

“Hey!  I’m just trying to enjoy my last Halloween!”  The vampire grinned and flipped his hair, “I’m getting older after all - and I can’t spend next year looking for candy.  Not unless there’s a girl involved.”

Felix and Ingrid looked disgusted and made fun of the red head as they continued down the line of houses, bags growing heavy with treats and the occasional peppermint.  Decorations both cute and scary greeted them at each house - along with the occasional dad who thought he was scary enough to frighten some kids.  They didn’t mind if it, not if it meant more candy if they played along.

It was an hour later when the sun was already halfway past the horizon, most of the younger kids already going home for the night or visiting their last few houses.  Now the streets were littered with kids thier age and preteens like Sylvain, clinging to their last night of childhood before they focused on things like sports and awkward dating.

Dimitri didnt’ look forward to that, not when his mind was already reeling with nervousness.

Not when they were nearing the house.

“Whoa, look at this place!”  Sylvain pointed, “I think it’s the creepy place behind your house, Dimitri!”

“S-Shush!”  The blond whispered urgently, wide eyes staring at the old manor with panic.  "You’re being rude!“

But Sylvain continued to talk loudly, noting that the place was probably the oldest manor in the neighborhood.  With run down shingles, shabby siding, dirty panels and creaky steps that could wake the dead.  The windows were dirty, or foggy, Dimitri wasn’t sure.  The front yard was slightly overrun with weeds, boxwood bushes that looked like lumpy meatballs and a driveway full of cracks that were need of serious repair.

Felix gave the shabby home the side eye.  "Does anyone even live there?”

“Y-Yes,” Dimitri replied with a soft voice, his gaze looking around for something or someone.

“Whoa, really!?”  Sylvain’s smile grew, “Do you think it’s haunted?  Is the guy living there creepy?  Does he stare at you from his windows?”

“N-No!”  His head whipped around on his friend, affronted.  "The family that lives here is very polite-“

But Sylvain ignored him, already walking towards the creepy home.  Even the sight of other kids avoiding it wasn’t enough to deter him - which only made Dimitri begin to panic.

"W-Wait!”  The Prince grabbed his friend’s arm, but he was looking around wildly.  "We can’t!“

"Huh?  Why not?”

Dimitri blushed, suddenly nervous as everyone began to stare, “B-Because…  Because-!”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” A new voice piped in and they all turned.

“Dedue!”

Oh thank the Goddess!

Dimitr couldn’t help but feel relief at seeing his loyal friend who was…dressed as a cowboy?  The group eyed his button up shirt, jeans with carpet sewn on the sides, leather boots and  spurs, and brown leather hat placed neatly on his head.  Sylvain would have laughed at how serious Dedue looked in his not-so-serious costume if he didn’t already know the boy could knock him into next week.  The fact that the dark skinned boy acted like nothing was wrong was enough to make Dimitri feel better about his own costume.

“Took you long enough,” Felix scowled with a point of his plastic sword.  "You missed half the houses already.“

"Apologies.  The bakery was busy and my family needed the extra help.”

Felix huffed, accepting the explanation while Sylvain gestured towards the run down house with his thumb.  "All right, let’s go, let’s go!  I wanna see what kind of candy this place has!“

"If they have any at all,” Felix muttered as he walked with the vampire, Ingrid following after them.

Dedue and Dimitri stood still, the blond’s body fidgeting with nervous energy while the tall cowboy looked down at him, silent.

“Did…Is it done?”

His face felt scorching hot when Dedue nodded, pulling a wrapped bundle from inside his pocket.  "Yes.  It set before I had to leave.“

Dimitri let out a breath of relief, wanting to open the foil and look at his personal creation, but was also too afraid to see it.

"T-Thank you,” he smiled while taking the item, cradling it in his hands like it were precious.  "I really appreciate your help with this…I wasn’t sure…“

Dedue placed his hand on the blond’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze and tiny smile.  No words were said, but the look that passed between them was enough.

Gathering up his courage, the Prince gave his friend a nod before they walked up to the house where Sylvain was repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

"Hmmm, maybe no one’s home?”  

Ingrid glared and smacked his hand away from the button, just in time as the front door to open and an adult greet them with a gruff hello.  All but Dedue paled at the sight of the messy haired man, eyes blearly from what could only be from a heavy sleep.  No one said anything as he ran a hand through his honey brown hair while looking down at them.

“Trick or treat?”  Sylvain smiled, bag out hesitantly.

The man blinked, clearly confused as he looked at the boy before he cursed under his breath, hand rubbing his chin.

“Shit.  Is it Halloween?”

Sylvain lowered his bag while the others showed varying degrees of disappointment on their faces.  The man mumbled out an apology, tired eyes watching as the kids talked about the next house as they turned to leave.  Then his gaze stopped on Dimitri and Dedue, waiting for them to also leave.

…

“Uh…”  The man rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.  I don’t really have any candy.”

Dimitri swallowed, staring up at his very familiar neighbor.  Though he’d never seen the man up close, he recognized by his hair and the way he stood, that this was the same person who spent many hours of the day working outside.  Each day was either spent on the roof, windows, or yard; hammering away at loose nails, pulling weeds, or painting anything that wasn’t dry rotted.

It was no surprise that he was so tired and Dimitri almost felt bad for bothering him but…

“Oh, Byleth…”

The young boy stiffened, eyes wide as he saw a bit of movement behind the man’s legs.  A girl, his other neighbor, peeking out at them.  

Suddenly his throat felt dry and words escaped him when their eyes met.  Mint meeting blue, curious vs panicked.  The familiar girl stepped out in the door way, getting a better look at the two trick or treaters.  He blushed the longer she stared, suddenly wishing that pretty gaze wasn’t looking at him at this moment.  Oh goddess, his hands were so sweaty; so hot and sweaty that Dimitri feared he’d melt the treat between his palms.

“T-Trick or treat!”  He stuttered at her, holding out his gift to the girl he’d been watching from the small gap of flowers and fence that separated their yards.

Amusement flashed between the man’s eyes as he looked down at Dimitri.  "I’m pretty sure we’re the ones who have to give you a treat, kid.“

Dimitri blushed, shaky arms still held out towards the blank girl.  Hopeful.  Desperate.

Her father nudged her shoulder.  She looked up at him for silent confirmation and earned a nod before she took the gift.  The Prince swallowed when their fingers touched then quickly pulled away the moment she had the bundle.  Dedue gave him a look of encouragement as the girl unwrapped the chocolate in the shape of a flower.

Dimitri spent many hours with Dedue the day before in his family’s bakery, learning to make chocolate from his friend specifically for this reason.  It had been embarrassing to ask, but Dedue had been understanding and patient as he showed him the steps and how to decorate.

"It’s a Forget-Me-Not.”  Dimitri blabbed, eyes wide as if under a spotlight.  "I-I tried to make a rose, but they’re a little hard and…“

He shut up, feeling stupid for doing all this in the first place.  

This pretty girl was probably already in MIDDLE SCHOOL and what was he?  Some dumb little kid with a dumb little crush.

She turned the candy in her hands, staring blankly at the simple shapes before nodding at Dimitri.  He exhaled through his nose in response, only to snort.  The Prince covered the lower half of his face, mortified.

"Byleth?  You got something to say?”

The girl looked up at her father then back to Dimitri who still had his face covered.

“Thank you.”

Red began to spread up his neck, cheeks, and even to the tips of his ears as he let out a garbled you’re welcome.  After another awkward second of staring, Dedue came to his rescue by bidding the two farewell then dragged his friend away before he could make a bigger fool of himself.

“You did well.”  Dedue whispered, making Dimitri want to groan.

“Please don’t tell anyone…”

“Of course.”

The rest of their night was uneventful as they collected more candy then they could ever eat and went back home, bellies full and aching.  Dimitri didn’t touch any of his, too busy groaning into his pillow and wondering what had come over him.

Perhaps he could convince his father to move?  Surely it was doable.  

Luckily the boy didn’t feel the need to.  Not when he found a small bag of Hershey kisses on his side of the garden, right next to his flower gap where he’d sit and stare.

He wasn’t sure if he should look deeper into the meaning, but the gift made his heart soar all the same.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Canadian Girl

Chapter Twelve

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC  |  Word Count:4515 Warnings: Swearing, mild violence, implied abusive former relationship, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

A/N: For those who are familiar with, or have been to the Canadian Finals Rodeo please note, I have taken artistic license on a few things. I am aware that not everything portrayed is correct. That's why it's called Fiction.

Jonas was still reeling a few days later as he watched the two Americans unload the three bulls from the trailer into the pens. Matt, Natasha, and Kennedy were dealing with the horses, but watching Steve and Bucky was both amusing and amazing.

The two men knew absolutely nothing when it came to bulls. They were decent with the horses, but the bulls were completely new.

He’d warned them to watch out for the Brahma.

Cyclone had a wicked temper, wasn’t afraid to gore you through the fence if he could, and of course, he’d tried, but Bucky with that metal arm had simply grabbed the animal by the horn and given it a shove which had skidded the big bull backwards, nearly bowling him right over. Every day since Cyclone kept a wary eye on Bucky, and Bucky kept one on the bull.

Steve had had his own run-in with one of the old males, a breeding bull by the name of Jacks All In. It had charged him in the paddock, but Cap had only turned around and punched him square between the eyes. The massive black bull had toppled over stunned, gotten up, shaken himself off, and followed Steve docile as a kitten around the pen afterwards.

Thank the good lord the bull wasn’t one he needed to buck anymore, cause he doubted he would. Cap had punched the ornery right out of him.

They definitely did things differently, but, after the second day, he’d worried less about the men and more about his livestock. Long as neither of them punched one of his prize bulls, the rank ones no one could ride, they’d be okay.

They both sat a horse reasonably well. Diamond was quite taken with Bucky, and Steve had gotten up on Rocky.

He was struck with the fact that they would have used horses on occasion back during the war. After spending half a week with the two men, it was hard to remember they’d come from a different era.

Now, Natasha, on the other hand, was a little ball of fire. She really knew nothing about livestock, but Kennedy had taken her under her wing, and the two had bonded fairly quickly, much to his daughter’s surprise. It was no secret Kennedy was self-conscious, but between Steve’s constant attention – something he was so not ready to see – Bucky’s brand of teasing, and Natasha’s boundless enthusiasm, they were dragging her back out of the shell she’d hidden in.

Kennedy’s relationship with Carl stuck in his craw something fierce.

He’d known something was wrong there, had for months, hell, years before she’d finally come home after graduation looking like death.

She was a completely different person.

His exuberant, outgoing Kennedy had become a shadow of herself.

They’d had to practically force her to eat, and it had taken weeks for Mary to convince her to confide in what had gone down. All Kennedy had said when she’d come home was that it was over, she had broken up with Carl. Even now he was sure there were things she’d told Mary, Mary had never told him, likely to keep him from up and killing Carl.

But now she had Steve. Captain freaking America. Dear lord! If the man married his daughter, he was going to be related to a superhero! Hell, the wedding they’d have to throw because, holy jumpin’s, just how many other superheroes would show up?

Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts away as too much, too soon. He refused to giggle like a fangirl at the prospect of getting to meet Thor! He clenched his fists to hold back the excited ‘eee’ which wanted to slip out.

Clearing his throat, he glanced around to make sure everything was still under control and turned his thoughts to Fury’s proposal.

The man had been one scary S.O.B. Between the black clothes and the eye patch, Jonas had taken one look at the man stomping his way towards the door and stiffened his spine. Yet, here too, he’d found a completely different person than what he’d expected, kind of like Stark, in that though he was gruff and a bit intimidating, Fury had a good head on his shoulders and had come offering them what seemed like an interesting idea.

With the size of the land and house, would they be interested in allowing the newly reformed SHIELD program to use their property as a base of operations. Nothing big, mind you, but a place to do wilderness training for the newer recruits, as well as possibly housing those agents who needed a place to recover after a severe traumatic event.  They’d build a small training facility away from the house and barns but wondered if the Canadians would extend their hospitality to those who were injured, allowing them a comfortable and completely normal environment to spend their recuperation. Of course, SHIELD would pay them for their cooperation, stay as much out of their way as possible, and provide needed security for their family.

Mary had always wanted to run a bed and breakfast, and the boys had both been making plans to build their own homes on the property now that they had growing families, so the big house would have been sitting empty. He’d asked to think about it, talk it over with his family, but he was leaning towards saying yes. Hydra was a threat to all of them now.

At dinner a few nights back when all the family had gathered, they’d finally convinced Joan and Daniel it was time they moved out with them. While Joan’s medical was covered, it was getting harder for her to get around and Daniel worked from home more often than not. It wouldn’t be a hardship to transform a chunk of the house into their space, and this way all of the family was safe and the worry he saw in Kennedy’s eyes would disappear.

A clang had him snapping his eyes to the boys as Bucky shut the gates and Steve closed up the trailer. Matt, Kenny, and Nat were doing the same, and he clapped his hands together, turning toward George Malin, this year’s organizer of all things CFR. “There we go.”

George opened and closed his mouth a few times before peering at Jonas. “Jones is that… are those… are they…the Avengers?”

“Hm?” He glanced at the boys as Steve helped Kennedy down off the fence. “Nah! That would be crazy!”

The only one who could wear a cowboy hat with any confidence was Natasha, so Steve and Bucky had stuck to ball caps. Bucky’s long sleeved shirt hid the metal of his arm, as did the leather gloves he wore, while Steve had popped on a pair of thick-framed glasses.

He’d heard his daughter whisper something about how he’d made being a nerd sexy. He’d didn’t even want to know. Just like how he didn’t want to know Steve spent every night in his daughter’s room, or how he was staying in her hotel room either. Those were things no daddy needed to know about.

“Ha… yeah… what was I thinking?” George murmured. “What would the Avengers be doing at CFR, right?”

***

Kennedy’s hair was braided into two pigtails which stuck out the bottom of her hat.

Steve gave one a gentle tug. “Pretty cute, Doc.”

She had her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, a belt with more glitter on it than he’d ever expected to see her wear, and a pink and white gingham shirt tied beneath her breasts over her white tank top. She was the epitome of a cowgirl right down to her sexy white hat.

He wanted nothing more than to squeeze her ass in those tight jeans but resigned himself to hands on her waist. “There’s my cowgirl.”

“You call me a filly, Steven, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes while Natasha laughed.

“I would never dream of it, doll.” He grinned down at her before ducking beneath her hat and kissing her mouth.

She’d made them all go shopping, a rather… interesting experience, kitting them out at a western apparel store, so they didn’t stick out quite so badly behind the chutes.

All three had gotten a crash course in rodeo 101, and with Nat’s talents, she’d blended in beautifully. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if she got on a horse and ran the barrels.

He and Bucky were doing an adequate job of blending in, though they’d both refused the cowboy boots she’d wanted to put them in. The bottoms were just too slick to make for decent footing if something went wrong, and they had stuck to their combat boots. Both pairs were so worn down, so comfortable, Jonas didn’t think it would matter. Steel toes to work with the bulls wasn’t a farfetched story.

They’d be here most of a week, and Steve was finding the looser fit of the button down shirt he was in kind of nice. Currently, his was navy, Bucky’s was black, both had names of rodeo-related sponsors down the arms and across the shoulders. They’d been given jeans Kennedy said they were a necessity.

Apparently, if his ass didn’t say Wrangler, it would be some kind of rodeo faux pas.

Considering Kennedy had swallowed really hard when he’d walked out of the dressing room and couldn’t pull her eyes from his butt, he wasn’t averse to having his clothes changed.

“What now, doll?” he asked softly.

***

They were later in their arrival on that Tuesday evening thanks to the snow they’d come through, but the events weren’t due to start till the next day.

“Dad will want to visit with the other stock contractors and Matt while likely stay with him but…” She bit her lip and glanced at Nat and Bucky. “You guys want to hit the Roadhouse?”

The rodeo’s after-party bar would likely be up and running already for the competitors, even a day early, and they could go have some fun. It wasn’t all work when you came to these things after all.

“Roadhouse? Like the movie?” Bucky asked his grin a tad cheeky.

Laughing, Kennedy shook her head. “I guess it depends on how drunk everyone is.” As a girl, she’d adored Patrick Swayze, so she knew that title well. “It will be fun.”

“You do know we can’t get drunk, right?” Steve smirked down at her.

“But I can! I’m in!” Nat whooped and jumped up beside Jonas. “Hey, Uncle Jonas, Kenny’s going to take us to the Roadhouse!” Sweeping her hat from her head, she bussed him a kiss on his cheek and slipped a panic button in his pocket. “Push that if you need us,” she whispered in his ear, before giggling and looking up at Matt. “You comin’, cuz?”

Why she’d ever thought Nat was intimidating, Kennedy couldn’t remember. Formidable. Strong willed. Tough. Those were words which fit the redhead best. It was Nat’s confidence in herself which made her intimidating, and the woman had been more than willing to help Kennedy find hers again. Natasha was just… awesome, and had become an inspiration to Kenny in a lot of ways. She liked Nat, had found a friend, and the two of them were a bit more alike than she would have ever guessed. They liked to tease and joke and had quick tongues

Matt blinked down at Nat once and slowly shook his head. “My wife would kill me. I’ll stay with dad.” He glanced at Steve and nodded. “Do not let her drink tequila.”

“Hey!” Kennedy huffed.

“Do not make me remind you what happened last time.” Matt pointed his finger at her. “The words from that song suit you just fine, Kenny!”  

“Rude!” she huffed.

Nat giggled, evidently having heard the song Tequila makes her clothes come off,  but Steve and Bucky looked confused.

She was of no mind to enlighten them.

Chuckling, George tugged six passes from his bag. “Here’s your passes. Get you in where you need to go.”

Taking them from him, Nat smiled as she plucked out four, passing the rest to Matt. “Let’s go!” She jumped down and handed them off to the others.

“We’ll move this trailer and take the truck, dad. See you in the morning!” Kennedy chirped and waved, bounding around the front, climbing in to drive. The other’s followed suit and twenty minutes later, and one very cold walk through the parking lot, she was dragging them through the door of the loud and noisy dance hall. “I haven’t been here in years!”

Nat grinned at Kennedy and took her hand. “There’s a mechanical bull!”

Laughing, Kennedy nodded. “You should try it!”

Smacking her hand into Bucky’s abs, Nat snickered, “He should try it… and use the left arm.”

“That would be cheatin’, doll,” Bucky smirked.

“Besides, he’d pick up so many buckle bunnies we’d need to de-fluff him to take him home,” Kennedy chuckled.

“Explain buckle bunny?” Bucky asked, his grin smug.

Kennedy only looked at him. “No.”

“Ah, doll. That’s mean.” He pouted.

She only narrowed her eyes. “No skanks, Bucky. That’s just… ew.” She shivered in disgust. “We’d have to delouse you before you could get back in the truck.”

Natasha burst out laughing and made her smile.

“Don’t worry, baby. He’s just teasing.” Steve murmured in her ear and grinned at Buck.

She smiled back at Steven.

Late one night, he’d explained a bit about Bucky. How his friend had had his share of women over the years, but Bucky wasn’t like that anymore. He may joke and laugh about it, but the nature of Bucky’s time with Hydra had ingrained in him too many scars for the man to be comfortable letting just anyone crawl between his sheets. It was why he flirted and joked so easily with her.

She was, apparently, safe because she would scoff at him and wave him off as being ridiculous. She was safe for Buck to flirt with because nothing would ever come of it, but it gave him a sense of normality, a link to his past self. She’d silently vowed, then and there, to always be Bucky’s friend, and if that meant suffering his teasing ways, so be it.

“Guess you’ll just have to buy me a beer, doll face,” Bucky smirked at her and caught the keys when she tossed them at him. “What are these for?”

“Someone’s got to be sober enough to drive. As neither of you can get drunk…” She let the ending hang and dashed into the party hand in hand with Nat.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“This could be a really long night,” Bucky sighed softly, stalking after the two giggling reds.

***

It was more fun than she’d had in… Kennedy couldn’t remember how long. Being out of the lab, her project finished and not having selected a new one, gave her a freedom she hadn’t had in years. She drank, she laughed, she dragged Steven out to dance with her, both fast songs and slow. She’d taught Bucky to line dance, went through a line of shots with Natasha – a very bad idea – and managed to get Steven on the mechanical bull.

It was cake for the super soldier in the hat and glasses, but man. His muscles had been all flexy in his arms and legs. And that ass. So hot. Of course, when he’d dismounted like he’d been bull riding all his life, landing lightly on his feet, he’d been instantly surrounded by a host of fluffy women.

How shocked they were when he walked through them, up to her, and had taken her mouth in a possessive, nearly brutal, kiss. It was glorious!

She’d watched Natasha flirt her way through a line of cowboys, dance, drink, and she was nearly sure she’d heard her conversing with Bucky in Russian at one point. Not that she knew Russian, but Kennedy was pretty sure it hadn’t been English.

She’d dragged Bucky out on the dance floor too, learning his smooth, debonair included fancy footwork as well. It made her laugh when he’d dipped her, spun her, and two-stepped her around the room with ease. After, he’d had a host of dance partner’s offer, but he’d stuck to mainly her and Natasha. It wasn’t exactly difficult to feel the difference in his two hands.

A couple of times people came up and casually made mention they sure looked like Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff.

All three just played it off like it happened all the time. After all, what would the Avengers be doing at the Canadian Finals Rodeo?

It made people chuckle and continue on their way.

Now, a few hours in, she was hot, sweaty, and damn did she have to pee. Seeing Natasha heading that way as well, Kennedy was quick to catch up. “Well?”

“Okay. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun when it didn’t include guns, torture, or kicking a little ass!” Nat laughed happily, linking arms with Kennedy.

Taken only a little aback, Kennedy chuckled. “You’re kind of scary when you just throw that stuff out there, you know.”

“Meh.” Nat shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”

Snickering softly, they rounded the corner to where the washrooms were when Kennedy jerked Nat to a stop so quickly it had the former assassin reaching for the knife hidden in her belt.

“Kennedy?” Nat asked.

She knew she’d paled to a ghostly white. All because of the man striding towards them. “Carl…” Kennedy whispered.

***

Natasha was quick to step between Kennedy and Carl, the whisper from her friend one of intense fear. Old fear. A fear which still plagued the doc.

“Well, if it isn’t Kennedy Jones.”

The man walked like a used car salesman, all rolling gate and slick smile. His cowboy hat was tilted back so she could see the eyes which assessed first her, then flicked past to latch on Kennedy.

She could say with honesty he was handsome. He had a chiselled face, square jaw with high cheekbones, and dark eyes which seemed to see right through you. Dark brown hair curled around the edge of his hat, a black one – fitting for a villain or so Nat thought.

Raking her eyes down his form, she smirked a little. Lean, strong with it, but no match for her.

Steve would break him in half.

It wasn’t a wonder why Kennedy had been sucked in by his pretty face, but he made Natasha’s skin crawl.

Unlike Steve, she knew a bit more about Carl and what the man had done to make Kennedy pull away from the world. Women talked to other women who’d experienced similar things with a lot more freedom than they would their lover.

This was a man who needed an ass-kicking.

Natasha was more than happy to give it to him. “Walk away, Kennedy.”

“Nat…” Kennedy crossed her arms, holding her elbows, shaking with each step he took toward them.

“Oh but Kennedy and I need to catch up, don’t we, Kenny?” He glared at her, but Natasha wasn’t about to move out of the way.

“There’s nothing to say, Carl,” Kennedy murmured, voice much weaker than Nat would have liked.

Sneering, he snarled, “But there’s so much to talk about, darling.” He made to reach past her.

Nat just smacked his hand away.

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Kennedy’s friend and right now your worst nightmare if you don’t back the fuck up, buddy!” She could smell the booze on him. It wasn’t all courtesy of the bottle in his hand.

“Nat... don’t,” Kennedy said. “I’m not your darling, Carl. Not anymore. Not in five years.”

“And whose choice was that, darling? I sure didn’t say we were through. And just look at you. How you’ve let yourself go.” He tsked softly, taking his eyes over her body.

Natasha could almost feel her withdrawing, Kennedy pulling inside herself with each nasty word. “You do not listen to him, Kennedy! You’re perfect just the way you are. Just the way Steve loves you!”

“Steve!?” Carl looked shocked and betrayed. “You’re cheating now, too, Kenny? Whatever were you thinking? I’ll have to reprimand you for it.” His hand dropped to the big buckle on his belt and ran his fingers over it.

The implications had her seeing red. “Touch her, and it will be the last mistake you ever make,” Natasha growled.

***

That move would have once thrown her into a panic, but Kennedy wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she took a deep breath and thought about Steven.

He was so much more than Carl. Brave, strong, kind. He was a man she was proud to call her lover, and Captain America or not, he was a good man. He was nothing like Carl. He showed her every night just how much he loved her. He liked her soft and a little squishy. He liked how she was a little aggressive in bed and would feed his kink. He liked that she had sass and a smart mouth. And most of all... he loved her.

Straightening up, Kennedy let a shit-eating grin cross her face while placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder. “You should go, Carl, before you embarrass yourself. You’re nothing to me anymore. I have a man who loves me for me and isn’t afraid to show it. He’s so much more than you ever were.” Smirking, she made to walk past him because man did she have to pee.

Nat’s smirk was so proud it made Kennedy blush. Still, the redhead kept her body between them.

“Bitch! You always were a fat fuck, dead fish lay! I bet you found another fat fuck to hump you at night,” Carl snarled, stalking after them.

Turning her head, Natasha smiled. It was a look so potent, so clearly flirtatious, but so evil at the same time, it made Carl falter. It was her widow smile. The one that said she’d eat him alive for the fun of it. “Oh, I wouldn’t say Steve was fat, would you... Bucky?”

Kennedy froze before turning slowly around.

Standing behind Carl only a few feet away was Bucky, grinning madly, and a furious Steve.

“Steven...”

He was practically seething, his jaw was so tightly clenched it had a muscle ticking in it. “What did you just say about my girl?” Steve's knuckles cracked when he flexed them.

Carl’s eyes nearly bugged out when he caught sight of the two super soldiers who had appeared silently behind him. “I...”

“You’re going to want to walk away, right the fuck now,” Bucky said, his smile never faltering.

Glaring at the idiot, Steve stalked past him to pull her in close and cup her cheek. “Are you alright, baby?”

Nat’s miracle bruise cream had done wonders for the shiner she had sported, and makeup had done the rest, so she knew she looked okay, even if his eyes lingered.

“I’m fine, Steven.” She smiled shyly up at him. “Carl can’t get to me anymore. I’ve seen him for what he truly is.” She glanced at Carl, looking small in comparison to the two soldiers with her. “A small, pathetic excuse for a man. He's nothing compared to you. Nothing.”

The pride on his face was evident when he leaned down and kissed her. “Perfect, doll face. That’s my Canadian girl.”

Anger twisted Carl’s features as he lunged toward them. “Get your hands off her!”

Bucky plucked the bottle Carl had raised out of his hand, but it was Natasha who kicked him. Once in the gut and a second time square in the chest, knocking Carl into the wall.

“You want us to hand him off to security, Cap? Or should we just toss his stupid ass out in the snow?” Nat asked.

***

Steve had seen it coming a mile away, hadn’t even bothered to flinch because Bucky and Nat always had his back, but Kennedy had recoiled in a way which had his jaw clenching again. Just what hadn't she told him about Carl? “He never laid a hand on her, so the snow is your best option. Other than being drunk and stupid there is nothing to charge him with.”

“I’m on it,” Bucky said, grabbing the stunned idiot by the back of his shirt.

“Steven?” Kennedy whispered as Bucky dragged the protesting Carl away.

“Yeah, baby?” He gently stroked his fingers over her cheek, so proud of how she’d stood up to her ex.

“I really need to use the ladies room.”

He snickered before letting her go. “I’ll wait right here for both of you.” He nodded to Natasha, more grateful than he could currently express as Kennedy darted through the door.

***

Bucky thrust open the exit and dumped dumbass outside. Keeping his foot in the doorway so he could get back in, he crouched down beside the man who was clearly hurting from the power of Nat's kicks.

She sure hadn't been inclined to pull her punches with this one.

“You’re a lucky fellow, you know that?” he said to Carl, slowly beginning to peel the glove from his hand.

“Fuck... you,” Carl wheezed.

“How do I figure, you ask? Well, let me explain something to you. You see, Kennedy is a special girl, and my best friend loves her a hell of a lot. So much so that he wasn’t  about to take away her victory over the abuser she escaped by taking matters into his own hands and beating you bloody.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Carl had hurt Kennedy. Maybe not physically, but he'd scarred her emotionally for sure. Although, with the way she’d recoiled it was a fair guess the fucker had hit her at some point.

“Now me, on the other hand, if Kenny was my girl and I heard someone call her a... what was it? Fat fuck, dead fish lay... I’d a snapped his neck.” Flexing the fingers of his vibranium hand, he picked up the bottle Carl had tried to swing at Steve, turned it to pour what beer remained into the snow, and crushed it, grinding it down to little more than dust. “This will be your only warning. Come near Kennedy again, and it will be the last mistake you make. I am very, very good at my job.” Dusting his hand off on Carl’s shoulder, Bucky squeezed it tightly until the bones ground together and the man hollered. “You have a good night. Best you don't come back inside.”

Getting to his feet, Bucky tugged the glove back on and returned inside, making sure the door snicked shut behind him.

Carl’s pass had read rodeo doctor.

He’d be making damn sure to keep an eye out for Dr. Carl Stephenson. The man reeked of trouble.

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