#brooding about steve rogers

[shackleton2]

I also just thought about the fact that he spent the majority of 2012-2014 going on as many combat missions as possible and why I think that's plausible and I like the implications of it. That he's doing it out of loss and trauma and old-school repression of emotions yes totally, that he has in common with Nat that this job is really his only life and family now holy shit yes. But I never thought of it as something that brings his life experience a little closer to that of Bucky's, post-Soldier.

Because as others have pointed out poignantly, Steve didn't get the serum with the intention of spending his entire life as an/The American Soldier, he did it for a very specific and urgent reason. He fulfilled that purpose, but then he never got to go home. And weeks out of the ice he was thrown into a new fight, and then it's not hard to imagine how he just...didn't stop. There's no home to go back to, and he sure doesn't want to think about that, so he dives into SHIELD work as hard as they'll let him-- which was probably just fine with them.

It's not the same as the Winter Soldier's existence, one fight to another with nothing else for decades. But it's something that sets Steve apart from himself and from Bucky as they were in Brooklyn before the war. It's a new shared life experience they both have in the years when their war should have been over: the never-ending fight.

random thought:

In the beginning of CAWS when we see Steve in 2014 and he's all totally-SHIELD-agent-guy? What if that came about kinda simply, by him approaching Fury in post-Avengers 2012 and asking, "What can I do for you in exchange for your help keeping me from getting dragged back onto the stage (but way worse than it was back when he was a USO star bc it's modern celebrity)? If he's an active asset away on a classified mission he can't appear at a million campaign events for politicians he hates/talkshows etc.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Dream (One Shot)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes (a hint of Stucky x reader)

Summary: You return from a mission in the middle of the night, exhausted and a little beat up. In a bid to avoid Steve and Bucky you go the long way to your room, but you see Stark and Strange and decide they are 100% up to something.

Warnings: Mentions of readers death / being missing in action in another multiverse, multiverse travel (if that's a warning???)

Trope: Friends to lovers, idiots in love, brooding and not sharing how they really feel.

This is based around a dream I had so reader is British but you can use your imagination. I also apologise for the lengthy intro, but you know I love a back story.

"The multiverse is a complex thing Tony."

"I'm aware of that Strange and I also know we shouldn't tamper with it. Look what happened when Peter came to you instead of me!"

"You were still recovering Tony, and this is a piece of that. Things need to be put back. The consequences if we don't are bigger than anything we've faced."

You rolled your eyes as you walked passed one of the lower floor labs. You'd only used this entrance to avoid Steve and Bucky, and you certainly didn't want to get caught in whatever Strange and Stark were up to as an alternative. You thought after Thanos that things would calm down. Be a little normal. You were wrong. There's never a 'normal' where the Avengers are concerned. You huff and make your way to your room.

You were a super soldier of sorts, with the ability to control and read energy. People, objects, weapons, absolutely everything. A call from Natasha and you'd quickly found yourself on the battlefield between her and Bucky in Wakanda. When you joined MI5 as a clean up analyst, you'd never thought that would lead you to SHIELD. An incident at the London clean up after one of Thor's adventures had left you with powers. Being able to manipulate energy including your own, also meant you were fast and strong. Bucky was quick to discover how fast when you sprinted alongside him towards the fight in Wakanda, on the tail of T'challa and Steve. He was in awe of you from the start. A year later and he was smitten. Eighteen months and he struggled to hide it.

It had taken Steve a while to get to know you. Caught up with the clean ups, being pardoned, the New Accords and trying to rebuild the team and he'd watched you from a far to begin with. Starting on the day of the fight, you'd barely said hello when it started. The fight had got rougher and you'd ran to cover Wanda. You'd found Steve going hand to hand with who you now called the Rancid Raisin. Your powers pulsed and you knew you had to get the gauntlet off his hand. Thor, approaching at the same time as you, started to charge at Thanos. You'd screamed at both him and Steve as you'd joined the sprint.

"Take him down!!! Take his fucking head off."

Steve managed to get him to his knees and you brought him down further as you practically ran up his back and shoved him into the ground. You straddled the titans now outstretched arm and ripped the gauntlet from his hand as Thor took his head.

The next few months were hard. The clean up. Thor's grief. Bucky's therapy. Natasha always hovering, worried Bruce will disappear again. PTSD hits Tony hard and Sam is trying to keep everyone together and moving forward but it's slowly burning him out. Peter goes AWOL on a school trip and his identity gets exposed. Then Strange tampers with the multiverse. Wanda is suspicious of everyone and comes to blows with Stephen when he won't listen to her advice about the multiverse, not until Vision steps in, and that makes her even more infuriated.

Then in the background there's you, and Steve's embarrassed he didn't notice at first. He's not even sure when you official moved in. You were around, here and there and then you're there all the time. Your permanent arrival brings about a spring like change. Everything is somehow calmer. There's always fresh flowers and home-baked treats on the kitchen counter and fresh towels on their beds when they come home from missions. You're somehow always busy and yet have time for everything and everyone. Your soft at home and a machine on the battlefield. He's watching you more than he probably should.

Then he spots Bucky push your hair from your face as you're leaning over a dusty old map, his hand moves down to the small of your back and you smile softly at him. His stomach tightens when he watches Bucky smile sweetly back. The type of smile he's not seen since before the war.

Then Natasha seems to relax and her raised eyebrow and quips return. Thor showers and actually listens to Val when she visits him. Tony starts to jog with Sam, and you're alongside them. Pepper goes back to the office, and although it's now in the same compound, she's nervous of leaving Tony's side. He catches your reassuring whispers to her and the promise to make sure Tony takes a break and eats lunch, and he does everyday. Wanda and Vision start to build a house on the other side of the compound. The team grows and Scott and Hope visit often and so do the Guardians. Steve's still not sure what to make of the talking racoon who's always looking around their armoury and intent on stealing Bucky's arm. And then there's the tree that you, Natasha, Wanda and Pepper all seem to take a turn in mothering. The tree also seems to enjoy your awful playlist.

"He's not a tree Steven. He's Groot." You tell him.

"I am Groot!" Groot adds. Steve leaves the room as you start to teach Groot how to twerk.

It takes a while but realisation washes over Steve as he watches you and Bucky waltz after one of Tony's fundraisers. This ones for the VA and Steve thinks it might be a peace offering of sorts. The only people left are the team and a few of Sam's trusted friends from the VA. He hears your laughter as Bucky tells you that he doesn't believe you can waltz and you prove him wrong as he sweeps you around the floor. Bucky had been shaky all morning after a bad nightmare. You'd returned from a mission, swept him up in a fierce hug and Bucky had stopped shaking. You'd appeared a couple of hours later in a red dress and on Bucky's arm, and Steve feels his stomach tighten again. He watches his best friend's lips graze your head as you've moved into a normal slow dance and he knows then that Bucky is quite possibly in love with you. He also knows that he is too.

He pushes down his feelings and encourages Bucky to make a move.

"I will when you will punk." He replies, squeezing Steve's shoulder and throwing him a wink. Steve ignores it, along with the feeling in his stomach again.

Then you stagger off the jet and fall into Steve's arms. A solo mission gone wrong and he's never seen you so shaken or covered in so much blood. Thankfully, very little of it is yours. But as he helps you peel off your suit and he sees your body scattered in bruises, he realises how scared he is of losing you and he finally admits it to himself. He loves you, and if he's really honest he probably loves Bucky in a way that's passed regular friendship. He tucks you into bed and sits upright at the side of you. FRIDAY's already assured him you'll be fine in a few days, but he's concerned about the wheeze in your chest and now he knows this is how Bucky felt for all those years when he was always sick.

A few days later when the others filter back from their own missions, he speaks to Bucky and a few days after that, and after a chat with Natasha, they decide they want to talk to you, explain their feelings and see if whatever this is can work.

But out of nowhere you stop speaking to Steve. So does Natasha, then Wanda and Pepper. Val visits and sharpens her daggers whilst looking directly at Steve. Rocket shakes his head at him from afar and Groot throws some bread at him during dinner. Gamora scoops him up and leaves the table and Steve realises she's not talking to him either. The night after the bread throwing, the male members of the team are locked out of the Rec Room and there's a party seemingly going on. He doesn't know what's happening and Bucky mutters something about 'girls night' as he broods in the corner. Clint reminds him it's 'girls and Groot' and Steve realises he didn't even know Clint was there, so out of it and melancholy from not speaking to you.

Bucky stops talking to him next and it seems whatever he's done, the upset is spreading through the team. The night your due home from your latest mission Steve's on edge. He doesn't want to force you to speak to him but he might have to, to save whatever this is. He's goes to the gym to let off some steam and quickly finds Bucky there too. They don't speak, but they take their usual route around the equipment, spotting each other as they go. Bucky spots your hair scrunchie on the floor and picks it up. He chokes on a sob and asks Steve what he's done. Steve pulls Bucky into his arms, but he can't answer because he doesn't know. Their super soldier ears pick up as they hear the hum of the jet. They make their way to the hanger and they realise you've taken a different route, probably to avoid them. They turn back and go passed the lower labs. You're not there either but Strange and Stark are and Steve can't shake the feeling they're up to something.

Not long after the three of you are in your separate beds. None of you sleep well.

It's mid-morning the next day when you sweep into the kitchen still in your pyjamas and robe, hair thrown into a messy bun. You're flustered and you've clearly not had much sleep.

"What the fuck are Strange and Stark up to?" You say abruptly, as you make your morning tea. Steve stares for a moment. Slightly in shock that you're actually speaking to him. He's mid sip of his coffee, going over some old SHIELD files as he sits at the kitchen island.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said what are Stark and Strange up to? I heard them talking last night about the multiverse, and I've had the weirdest dream. They sent me to another multiverse, like ours but not, which I realise is obvious because that's how it works according to Vis but they sent me to.....hang on. It was 513, that's where they sent me, I think, only it wasn't me. It was 616 me. So I was dreaming about 616 me going to 513 me and they weren't meant to have a me but they did and she was dead."

"She wasn't dead she was missing in action."

You dropped the spoon onto the counter with a clatter. Steve suddenly realised what he'd said and frowned.

"How do I? Wait, hang on, how do I know that?"

"Did you have the same dream as me?"

Steve stayed quiet.

"Rogers, did you have the same dream as me?"

"She wasn't dead, she was missing in action and you told me off for not looking for you. The 513 you." He whispered. Steve looked up at you and you would later describe to the others that he looked broken. You take a step towards him but stop as the whooshing of the door from the stairs stops you. You know it's Bucky from his purposeful steps, making sure anyone that's around knows he's approaching, always concerned about startling anyone.

"Stevie I had the weirdest..." He paused midsentence as he sees the look on Steve's face and your startled expression. "What's going on?

"What were you going to say?" You asked.

"I asked you a question first." He replied firmly.

"Buck? What was it about? The dream?" Steve asked, his voice shaking.

"Who said I had a dream? Anyway, does it matter?"

"Yes." You replied in unison. He huffed.

"It was a dream."

"About?" Steve asked. Bucky huffed again and learned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest.

"The multiverse. Something those two said must have set it off."

"Strange and Stark?" You asked.

"Yeah, wait, how did you know that?" Bucky asked standing up straight.

You side-eyed Steve.

"We had the same dream bud."

"You and me?" He asked Steve.

"All of us. The three of us." You answered.

The elevator door opened and your heads all snapped to look at the culprits of whatever had happened. Strange and Stark.

"You!!!" You practically growled as you moved towards them. "You two!!! What the fuck did you do!!"

"Us? Nothing." Stark shrugged. You allowed your powers to check over their energy and the rhythm of their hearts and blood pressure told you they weren't lying but they weren't exactly telling the truth either.

"You've done something."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Stark quipped, trying to side step you.

"That was a lie." You replied, through gritted teeth as you blocked his path. "You might not have done it but you know something."

The whooshing of the door again brought Natasha and Bruce's arrival, with Wanda, Vision and Sam entering moments after them. If Strange and Stark wouldn't tell you, you knew someone who would or would at least be more likely to slip up. You ignored Natasha as she asked what was going on?

"Bruce?" You asked, eyes trained on Stephen and Tony.

"Ermmm yeah."

"What are these two doing?"

"Right now, they're standing in front of you."

"Bruce, you know that's not what I mean. What are these two doing with the multiverse?"

There was snaps of 'what', 'again' and general disgust from the others.

"I told you two I wanted no part of it. I'm not going to lie for you." Bruce said, turning to Strange and Stark.

"You could at least try buddy." Tony quipped back.

"There'd be no point! Most of the people here would know I lied."

"They had a visitor. A couple of visitors actually and one of them was Loki. I'll let them tell you the rest."

There was another set of outbursts around the room. Steve stood from his seat at the counter and came to stand at your side.

"Stephen. Tony. Start talking."

"Her first." Strange replied.

"Why tell you when you probably already know."

"They need to hear it." He responded, nudging his head in the direction of the others.

"Fine. Last night, I dreamt about the multiverse. About all of us. Clint and Scott were there too."

"Go on." Urged Natasha.

"So, we're clear, you go into their compound. You tell 513 Stark and Strange to stop fucking around and to look for a sign. Wait for the sign. Then they'll know what to do." Hank told you.

"Got it." You'd replied.

"And it has to be her?" Steve asked, voice full of concern. Stephen and Tony's voice confirmed it.

"So, is that my role in the multiverse? Telling you two to stop messing with things you don't understand?"

"Yes." "Looks that way."

Hope and Scott fussed over your suit and the device on your wrist.

"We'll give you fifteen minutes total. A minute warning for extraction, then thirty seconds. Then a countdown from ten." Hope reminded you.

"And it has to be her?" Steve asked again.

"Steve! For godness sake, we've already established that. They don't have a me, so it has to be me. Plus there's the energy thing."

"Just throwing this out there again, I think we should still wait for Wanda and Vision to get here." Bucky threw in.

"No time, it' has to be now." Hank pushed. "And when I say now, I mean now, get your ass on the platform. Wong. Strange."

Hope and Scott guided you to the platform and you flicked over the helmet, as Wong and Stephen took their positions. Multiverse travel need them and the quantum fields to stay stable. Doing it with just their magic alone would cause another 'incident' according to the Van Dykes. Magic swirled around you and Hank counted down. There was a flash of light and you were gone. Floating through the quantum, you followed the pull of energy that came from 513 and directed yourself towards it. You landed in a heap in a grassy field.

"This can't be right. Please tell me we've not buggered this up." The device vibrated on your wrist to confirm the fifteen minutes had started and you looked around to figure out where you should be going. You pulled yourself up, turning you saw a hill behind you and decided to run up it.

Reaching the top you discovered you were in the right place. Kind of. There was a compound, sure it was smaller but it was a compound of sorts. In reminded you of the safe house you and Natasha had used once in Mexico. Dated but kind of fancy. On reaching a side door, you pushed energy into the electric lock and it slid open. You pulled at the door and went in.

"Please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me."

You followed the smell of the coffee to the kitchen and hoped to find someone there. A clattering of a spoon into a dish let you know you had. Scott Lang sat at the counter. Shocked expression on his face.

"Oh my god!!!"

"Sorry to walk in on you like this. Scott right? I'm Y/N. This is going to sound crazy but I'm from another universe."

"Y/N?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"They thought you were dead."

"Wait what? You're not meant to have a me here."

"Y/N." A new voice and your eyes snapped towards it. Steve Rogers was looking at you eyes wide and full of emotion. He dashed towards you. "Sweetheart, oh my god, we've been looking. We never stopped looking."

He pulled you into a bone crushing hug and kissed the top of your head fiercely. You went ridged and Steve pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not who you think I am."

"Y/N?"

You pulled away from Steve to find Nat looking at you with tears in her eyes. She was quickly joined by Wanda and Vision, both of which watched you with caution. There was a flurry of voices and Sam, Clint and Bucky came into view. Bucky's eyes met yours.

"Y/N?!!" He called out, followed by a sob. He tripped over his feet in a bid to get to you, Clint and Sam grabbed at him to steady his approach as he made his way towards you.

"Wait, wait, wait." You said, holding your hands up for him to stop. "I'm not who you think I am. I was told you didn't have a me here."

"Because you're missing in action, presumed dead." Vision explained.

"Oh fuck. Wait hang on. I'm missing? Why the bloody hell are you here then? Why aren't you out looking for me?"

"We have. We've followed every lead. Every possible there is." Natasha told you.

"And yet here you are sitting on your arses."

"Hey now. This is the first time Buck's even been here in a year. There's always two of us looking. Danvers and Thor are out right now." Sam told you. "He needed to come home."

"It's the anniversary of your disappearance." Steve told you sadly.

"That's why." You whispered.

"Why what?" Natasha asked.

"I was told it had to be today. You must have all needed to be here."

"If you're not Y/N, who are you?" Clint asked.

"I'm Y/N, just not your Y/N. I'm from 616."

Wanda and Vision exchanged a knowing glance.

"Why are you here?" Wanda asked.

Before you had to chance to answer Stephen, Tony and Bruce, came into the kitchen, buzzing with chatter about time travel, the quantum and the multiverse.

"These two!!!" You snapped, pointing at Stark and Strange. There heads snapped up to look at you.

"Y/N?" Stark asked shocked by your presence.

"Not exactly."

"She's 616 Y/N." Vision explained. They both looked uneasy and side-eyed each other.

"What did you do?" Steve asked.

"Nothing......yet."

"Well don't." You told them firmly.

"Look, you can't come here from 616 and tell us what we can and can't do Y/N." Stephen told you, clearly annoyed by your presence.

"Actually, I can and that's exactly why I'm here. Our versions of you, as well as the Van Dykes. Have told me to come and tell you to stop. Whatever it is you're doing or thinking of doing stop it right now. You're going to cause a problem that none of us can fix."

"Look what we're working on can't be explained to everyone." Stephen told you.

"Don't speak to me like I'm stupid Strange. We've had the TVA at the door."

"TVA?" Bruce asked quietly.

"Time Variance Authority." You replied, before turning to Bruce. "Bruce, please don't get caught up in their messy bollocks. It'll only get you and the big guy into trouble."

"There's a Hulk in 616?"

"Yep and I'm sure in every universe it's best he avoids conspiring with these two."

Strange went to talk again but you were quick to cut him off.

"If you're going to belittle me, don't bother. You two stop whatever it is you're doing or trying to do. In a few days you'll get a sign. You'll know then what to do. DON'T, and I mean DON'T, do anything until then, and listen to these two." You said pointing at Wanda and Vision. "If you don't, well, it'll change everything. No good will come from it. Wait for the sign."

They both nodded at you, brows furrowed. You turned and went to leave.

"Wait!" Bucky called. "Can you stay?"

You turned to look at him and found he was now at Steve's side, both of them with tear-filled eyes. You shook your head.

"Sorry, I can't." You replied. Bucky sniffed and you took his metal hand softly in yours. "It'll cause a glitch. They only sent me because they didn't think there was a me here. It's best our paths don't cross if there's more than one of me."

"But there's not. I can't find you." Bucky told you as tears ran down his face. Steve threw his arm around his shoulder and pulled him into his side. You looked between them both. In 616 you were alone. There was a whole bunch of lingering touches, longing looks and missed moments between you, Steve and Bucky but nothing more than that.

"Wait. Are we? Am I with one of you here?"

They nodded.

"Both of them. The three of you are together. Took a while but you figured it out." Clint told you. This explained the upset. You thought for a moment and looked up at them both.

"Are we a like? We obviously look the same, but in personality? Is she an agent?"

They nodded.

"Your voice, the telling people off, the mannerisms, it's all the same." Steve told you.

You might not know 513 you, but you knew you, and that if you had Steve and Bucky you'd never let them go and wherever you were, whatever had happened you'd fight to get back to them.

"Don't stop looking."

"I won't. I never will." Bucky told you.

"Listen, if you can't find her. She'll find you. I know if I had you both, either one of you, I'd never stop fighting to get back. If you can't find her, she'll get here or somewhere so you can find her."

"We're not together in your timeline?" Steve asked. You shook your head and looked down at your feet. Steve reached out and cupped your face, tilting your head for you to look at him. "Tell them, tell them how you feel."

"I'm not sure they feel the same."

"I'm pretty sure I'd love you in every universe sweetheart. Tell them."

You felt a wave of emotion and tried to stay composed.

"Keep looking. If she's like me in anyway, she'll find her way. She won't stop. She'll keep trying to get back to you." You grew tearful as you told them again.

"Can you stay just a little longer? For them?" Natasha asked, nodding towards Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could. The buzz of the device on your wrist said you couldn't. One minute and you'd be pulled back. You shook you head and lifted your arm to show them the device.

"That's my cue." You turned back to Steve and Bucky. "I'm sorry I'm not her."

You took a chance and pulled them both into a hug, which they returned.

"How did you know?" You asked Steve. "You didn't question when I said I was from 616, why?"

"She never goes stiff when I hug her. Not even when we've fought. And your shampoo. Your hair smells different."

You hummed in understanding and hugged them both again. The device buzzed again warning you had thirty seconds before you were pulled back. You found yourself having to pull your hand from Bucky's.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, they'll pull me back and if I'm not outside I'll end up through that wall, which will really bloody hurt." You rushed down the hall and through the door as they followed.

"Don't stop looking." You called behind you. "She's bound to leave a biscuit wrapper or a half drank cuppa somewhere."

You sprinted out into the field. There was a flash and you were gone from 513. You landed back at 616 on the platform. Two super soldiers waiting for you.

"Then I woke up."

"OK, so just so I have this right. You dreamt that 616 you, went to 513 to tell these two off and you three were together but you were missing?" Asked Bruce.

"Yeah, I know that sounds absurd but they had the same dream." You replied, gesturing at Steve and Bucky.

"What did you do?" Bruce asked, turning to Tony and Stephen. Wanda approached them both, anger in her eyes.

"Yes, what did you do?" She asked.

"We." Stephen started.

"Not we." Tony interrupted. "You did it. You were the one that did it."

"You were there."

"But you did it."

"Stop it!!!" You shouted. "What did you do!"

"Strange connected your subconscious to some of the other versions of you."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"Because you needed to see something."

"Yeah, see that you two fuck around in every timeline." You snapped.

"Not exactly." Stephen replied.

"Stop talking in damn riddles Strange." Bucky ordered.

"She needed to see something." Stephen replied.

"Me???!!!" You exclaimed. "So why did they have it too? Why did they have the same dream? You shouldn't have done that to them!! You can't play with Bucky's mind like that."

You closed in on Strange and Steve slipped an arm around your waist to keep you back, as Bucky joined your side.

"That was unexpected."

"Because you don't know what you're dealing with Strange. What happened with Peter proves that." Wanda told him.

"It was unexpected but needed."

"Tony." Steve said. "If he's not going to explain, can you."

Tony sighed.

"Just so you know, I didn't do the whole connection thing. He did and as soon he said you two were connected too I told him to stop."

"And did he?" Steve asked. The lack of answer said it all.

"Everything that happened in the dream happened. The 616 version of you went to 513 with orders to warn their version of us to stop what they were doing and look for a sign."

"A sign of what? Another fight? Another finger snapper?" Sam asked.

Tony shook his head.

"Her coming back to 513."

"Me or 616 me or their me."

"513 you. You went to stop warn them and to tell them to stop what they were doing. Well, 616 did. You were the sign. 616 was."

"How do you know this?" Natasha asked.

"The T.V.A. Time Variance Authority. They paid us a visit."

"With Loki?" Natasha asked, side-eyeing Bruce, pissed off that he'd kept this from her.

"It seems another version of Loki is alive and has redeemed himself. He's working with them to keep the timelines as they should."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"Because he dies over and over again, and one of the other universes didn't fair so well against Thanos. He snapped those fingers, took out half of everyone in their universe." He paused as he walked over to the drinks cabinet, poured himself a drink and looked at you. "They didn't go for the head."

"What does this have to do with Y/N?" Natasha asked.

"There have been some misplacements. The T.V.A looks to put them right." Stephen answered.

"I am a misplacement?"

"No, you're where you should be sweetie," Tony assure "but the T.V.A made a slip up. An agent came in here as a copy of someone in our universe. Someone that's not meant to be here. Someone that I revoked clearance for."

"Sharon." Natasha whispered. You snapped your head to look at her.

"So Captain Rogers, wasn't intimate with Agent Carter in the upper lab bathroom?" Vision asked.

"What?" Steve snapped.

"Doll? Is that why you're not talking to Stevie?"

"I saw her. I saw Sharon go in to the bathroom. I waited to see what she was doing. We'd had the meeting that day."

"About Madipour?" Steve asked, his arm still around you. You nodded and glanced up at him.

"Tony was revoking her access, but I saw her. I waited to see what she was up to. She went in the bathroom but you came out."

"So to you it looked like Steve and Sharon were in there together." Sam pointed out.

"Pepper told me that you were upset and after girls night and thanks to Romanoff's cocktails, she told me why. I checked the footage. It was glitchy and then it was gone. I tried to recover it and then the T.V.A were in the room, Loki was with them. Strange arrived soon after. Our timeline was fine to begin with but their agent dropping in here and making you think that Carter and Capsicle were bumping uglies caused the glitch."

"Misplacement."

"Glitch, branch, whatever. The agent caused issues in 513 and 616, as well as here. The T.V.A wanted to resolve it in one go, snip the branch." Tony poured himself another drink.

"Tony it's not lunchtime yet. Maybe slowdown." Natasha told him.

You made eye contact with Wanda and she titled her head at you. You shrugged.

"I don't get it." You said.

"Me neither, this sounds like some Inception kinda shit." Sam added.

"I believe I can help" Vision added stepping forward. "It's the three of them isn't it?" Vision asked Strange. He nodded in reply.

"Us?" Steve asked.

"Yes, I believe so. Y/N, in your dream when you were connected to the others. 616 wasn't with her version of Steve and Bucky?"

You shook your head.

"No, it felt like there was something but they weren't together. They were both asking questions about 616 going to 513 and they were waiting for her next to the platform, but then I woke up."

"And 513, you were lost, missing in action, but you were together, with the Captain and Sergeant?"

You nodded.

"I asked them. Clint said something about it taking us a while but we go there."

"Something is coming isn't it?" Wanda asked, looking at Strange. He nodded.

"And the three of them have to be together." Vision said.

"Why?" You asked. Steve held you tighter, his chest to your back. Bucky placed his hand in yours.

"Sweetheart." "Doll." They said in unison looking down at you. You looked down at the floor.

"They said to tell you. Steve said, he ermmm, he said."

"I know, I was there remember." He ran his lips against your head. "And it's true. In every universe Y/N."

Bucky lifted your hand to his lift and kissed it softly, his actions speaking for him.

"But 513?" You asked

"She'll find her way." Wanda said.

"So, if they're together, we all get our happily ever after?" Sam asked.

"They'll be another threat. Bigger than Thanos, bigger than anything any of us have faced."

"But it won't be us that faces it will it?" Wanda asked knowingly.

"Who then?" Steve asked.

"Our children."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in silence next to the large, brooding man. You’ve heard of Steve Rogers before. Who hasn’t around these parts. You’re not a local, you moved here for the work. The job description didn’t exactly mention the state of the neighbourhood. 

You see the men in their tailored-suits, puffing on cigars, laughing, even cat-calling you as you pass. That’s just the city, you assumed. That was until you really started to notice the men. When you saw the tinted windows tailing the erratically driven beater cars or the shadows creeping around in the early hours outside your building. 

You keep to yourself. You’re just a visitor to this world. You have no plans to stay in it. 

He doesn’t say a word as he drives. You stare out the window. It’s like that awkward first date you went on as a teen with your stepfather’s co-op volunteer. Except worse. You have no idea what exactly this is. You try not to think about it or you might hyperventilate. 

He slows at a sign and you keep your gaze out the window. The city streets are clear and sunny despite the gloom in the car. You think back on the brief conversation between him and Brenner. He seemed irked by more than your upstart boss. ‘Engagement’... something happened there but you learn from the mistakes of others. Don’t ask. 

As Rogers taps the gas, a man in a hoodie dodges out in front of the car. The brakes lock and the man in the driver seat mutters. The jaywalker looks over and laughs, stopping to make a show as he taunts the driver. He sucks in and horks a wad of phlegm onto the windshield. 

Oh shit. 

You stare in shock. What the heck? You’ve met your fair share of wildcards in this city but you simply keep your head down and keep going. Not Rogers. 

He shifts into park. He’s still silent. He calmly undoes his seat belt and checks the traffic behind him. He gets out as the walk-by spitter continues across the street. The man doesn’t make it as he’s caught from behind and thrown onto the tarmac. 

Without hesitation, Rogers kicks the man’s side, then his stomach as the force of the first rolls him over. He continues his assault with a stony look on his face. His eyes are determined and his chin is set, but no furrow and scowl breaks his veneer. 

You watch as a swirling sensation stirs in your stomach and quickly invades your head. You don’t like violence and this is such an overreaction, you can hardly believe it’s real. It very much is. 

You can’t help the squeak that escapes you as Rogers bends over the man and grabs his skull between his hands. He smashes his face down into the street and you close your eyes. Oh god. This can’t be real. 

Your open your eyes to the ripple of reality. Others watch in a similar awe from the pavement. Drivers idle nearby. A police officer walks by and simply ignore the scene as Rogers stomps the man one last time. 

Fear courses through you. What did Brenner get you into? Why did you just go along with this? Your passivity was always bound to get you in trouble. 

You feel your body slacken as he stands straight and smooths his jacket. You slump in the seat and your eyes roll back as a wave of black specks invades your vision. Your chest feels ready to burst, your head too as you sink into oblivion. 

When you come to, the car is moving again. You lurch forward as the motion flips your stomach. You grunt and try to shake of the disorientation. You put your hand on the dash and gulp in air. 

“You fainted,” Rogers says dully. 

You blink and turn to look at him. You slowly sit back, “yeah, I did. Sorry.” 

He doesn’t offer any other comment. You don’t know what to say or do. You’re embarrassed at how you just passed out but you didn’t really have a choice. You’ve never seen anything like that. And now this man, who can light up like a match, 

“What kinda person...” you begin and flinch at your own voice, “just spits on someone’s car like that?” 

You swallow dryly at your redirection. Sometimes, your thoughts bubble through too quickly but you caught yourself. You think. 

He glances over at you then back to the road. 

“Yeah, like,” you ramble, your nerves bouncing off each other, “if I had a nice car, or a car at all, I’d be mad too. That’s not... cool.” 

You cross your arms as if you’re holding yourself together. You lean back and stare at the road. You’re too afraid to look at Rogers. He can probably hear your fear in your voice. 

“Right, that guy deserved it.” He says. “Got no idea what I’m dealing with. Don’t need that.” 

You nod and meter out a breath, “totally.” 

He grunts. You think he bought it. At least, he knows you’re too scared to tell him your real thoughts if he doesn’t. 

He drives on wordlessly. He’s tense, you’re tense. Everything is tense. 

You glance over at his knuckles as he grips the wheel tight. They’re bruised and there’s a bit of blood on the middle one. Your mind is racing. You see his fists flashing. This man is a maniac. 

“That must hurt,” you say. 

“Huh?” He utters. 

“Your hands.” You don’t know why you’re talking but if you sit there in silence any longer, you’re going to lose your mind.  

He shrugs, “don’t feel it right away.” 

“Right, right, of course, makes sense,” you accept, “I wouldn’t know. I never... whatever. Sorry, I’m going to be quiet.” 

You look out the window and focus on the buildings instead. Just don’t look at him. If you don’t, he can’t hurt you. Like the boogeyman. 

“I’m fine,” he says after a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

You nod and keep your eyes aimed out at the sidewalk. You’re not really worried about him. You’re worried about you. Well, you’ll just be sure to stay on his good side. 

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter i

Summary: As the sun sets over Winter's Reach, Lord James 'Bucky' Barnes expresses his feelings toward his arranged marriage to the youngest of The Black Widow sisters. Meanwhile, the bride arrives at the Reach.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 926

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A/N: I'm out here writing chapter after chapter when I should be having a writing break. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love |Let me know if you want to be tagged specifically for this series.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The sun dipped below the horizon of Winter’s Reach, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. In a secluded corner of the estate, near the training ground stood James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Prince Steven Rogers, side by side. The evening breeze rustled their cloaks as the two friends spoke in hushed tones, their words carried by the wind.

“I never wanted a bride,” Bucky’s face was set in a frown, his eyes dark and brooding as he confessed. “This union, this marriage… it’s a chain, not a blessing.” His voice was low and edged with bitterness. 

The future king looked at his friend with a mixture of sympathy and firmness. “I understand, Buck. However, alliances are crucial, especially now. House Romanoff’s support is vital for the stability of the kingdom.” 

Scoffing, Bucky’s expression turned cold. “I know. I know it’s about duty and the greater good. I’ve spent my life fighting, not having to deal with courtly niceties and forced smiles.” 

Steve’s gaze softened with understanding. “She has a gentle heart, unknown to the Black Widows of Belova. She wants to make this work, to support you and your house.” 

Anger flashed over Bucky’s eyes. “Support me? She’s a stranger, Steve. A little pawn in this game we’re playing. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure as hell don’t need her support.” 

Choosing his next words carefully, Steve took a silent moment. “I get it, Bucky. But sometimes, we don’t get to choose our paths. You might even find that she’s more than just a pawn.” he nudged his friend's shoulder. 

Bucky turned away, his jaw tightening as he stared out at the darkening sky. “Time is one thing I have little patience for.” He felt a flicker of doubt amidst his bitterness. 

~

The journey had been long and arduous, cold biting through your layers as you rode through the frost-covered landscape. The reach loomed ahead, a fortress of stone and vibranium, standing resolute against the approaching winter. 

Dismounting your horse, your legs ached from the ride. You looked up at the imposing structure. A sense of trepidation settled in your stomach the moment the gates opened. His expression as cold as the frost beneath you, greeted you in the courtyard. You could only assume this was James.

“Welcome to Winter’s Reach,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. His gaze was sharp and assessing as he looked you up and down. “I trust your journey was uneventful.” 

You nodded, trying to hide your unease. “It was long, but the scenery made it manageable.” 

His eyes flickered away, disinterest evident. “My father has arranged for your quarters to be prepared. You’ll find everything you need there.” 

“Thank you, Lord James.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, annoyance crossing his features. “Let’s not pretend this is anything but a political maneuver. Your gratitude is unnecessary.” 

“I understand,” you swallowed hard, his harsh words feeling a sting. “Still, I appreciate the gesture.” 

Turning on his heel, Bucky did not say a word as he led you into the Reach. The silence grew heavy and uncomfortable. A chill seeped into your bones as you looked over the interior, with sparse decorations and dark lighting casting shadows on the stone walls. Depicting past battles and family crests, tapestries hung forlornly.

Stopping abruptly once inside your quarters, he spun around to face you. His eyes pierced through you like ice, holding a brewing storm within them. “This is not what I wanted,” he hissed, leaning down until he was inches from your face. “I never asked for a bride, least of all one forced upon me.” 

You flinched with every word spat, you tried to steady yourself between him and the door. Your heart raced at the proximity, but you fought to remain composed. “I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t choose this either, my lord.” 

His lips curled into a sneer. “Sorry? Save your apologies. They mean nothing here.” He towered over you as he straightened up. The tension between you was thick and suffocating.

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. “I understand your frustration. But we are in this together–”

Scoffing he cut you off, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Together? Don’t fool yourself. We are bound by duty, nothing more. Do not expect anything beyond that from me.” 

His coldness ached your heart, but you nodded, you could not let his bitterness break your spirit. “Of course, my lord. I’ll do my best to respect your wishes.” 

Without another word, he brushed by you as he walked out of the quarters. His footsteps echoed through the cold, empty hall. You were left standing alone in the vast, unwelcoming space as his presence seemed to pull all warmth from the room. 

Watching his retreating figure, you realized that earning the man’s trust and affection would be a long and arduous journey. You remained determined, despite his resentment, to break through his defenses. Believing that beneath his hardened exterior, lay a heart and soul worth understanding and loving. 

Making your way further into your quarters, the cold stone was a stark contrast to the warmth you hope to bring into this union. A simple bed, a wooden chest, and a small fireplace were the only comforts. You silently vowed to be patient as you tried to settle into your new surroundings. You longed to show Bucky that this forced marriage could become something more. 

For now, you had to navigate the cold terrain of Winter’s Reach, both outside and within the walls of the Reach. 

---

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[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 13

Summary: Steve softens and submits

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, bit of a chase kink, teasing, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, bathtime fun, D/s dynamics, breeding kink, bit of voyeurism, mean!Steve, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

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Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*edit by @nixakimbo

You give a final smile to Bucky and Shy, and hug to your former guard. Making sure to kneel down to rub on Shy’s belly, leaning to give the bump a kiss, “You take care of your mama, little Ember. I can’t wait to hold you. Thank you for a lovely day,” you stand back up, giving Shy another hug. “Your home is lovely.”

And with that Steve nods a head to both Bucky and Shy, leading you out to the car where he opens the door up for you. He can be sweet when he wants to. When he isn’t so brooding and all business. Trying to be create a persona that is quite different to the man you were starting to learn. Days like this made you realize that there is a lot more to Steve than meets the eye. He could be soft. Just with the right people.

You suppose that is probably the safest thing to do, be cautious. For him. You just loved people, and wanted them to know. Everyone needed words of confirmation from time to time. “She looks adorable pregnant.”

“So will you,” he answers, giving you a soft smile. He could be a bit confusing with his personality. Today you are getting the sweet Steve. It had to have been seeing Bucky again. Bucky leaving Steve’s business for good seems to have affected him. He realizes how things have shifted.

“Are you sad?” He keeps his eyes on the road, and his Adam’s apple bobs while he searches for the right words.

“That you have an IUD? Of course. But I’ll let you decide when I get to fill you full of me,” you roll your eyes as your hand naturally falls into his. He is so silly. Always going back to that, and not at all what you are thinking about.

”I meant about Bucky choosing Shy over…the business,” you hesitate to say over Steve. he didn’t necessarily choose Shy over him. But in a way he did. Bucky found something more important to him than what he had been doing for years. More important than being in the business with his best friend. The business risk didn’t outweigh his love for his fiance and future family.

Steve goes silent. His sharp eyes look out in front of the car, but never respond. It hurts him too much to think that Bucky would never be a part of this world for him. “I mean, having a child is a huge responsibility. It seems like Shy makes enough money to keep them afloat. And he seems to really be right at home with her. And their kitty. We should probably get a pet. I bet it was nice for her to have a pet when Bucky was out at odd hours of the night. Especially when he was with me. Heaven knows that man has seen so much of my body, and just what you do to me. Do you think she was ever jealous of that? Have you met Shy before today? Wait, no you said that was your first time meeting her. Bucky must really love her to want to protect her from your life.”

”Dovey,” his thumb draws shapes on your hand, and you turn to look at him. He is haunted about something. About his thoughts that never left him. There is no telling the things that he has seen in this life. “Baby, you need to breathe.”

“Where are you taking me?” This isn’t the way home. “Are we going out?” he shakes his head no, and you look at him with a pout. The facial expression does get a huff of a laugh. “Steve!”

“Does this road not look familiar?” No. It didn’t. But clearly it is supposed to. You sigh, waiting on him to hopefully answer. Your body leans more into him. Letting his warmth encapsulate your nerves. Trying to think of when you had been here, and then there is something that looks familiar.

“But…where is everything else?” It is the playground. Before there were swings, slides, monkey bars, but now the only thing left standing is the bars that Steve had set you on. “Steve?”

“I held onto this place for a long time,” he places the car into park, and while you give him your full attention, he just gazes out at the almost empty park. “I met her here for the first time,” he is taking way too long to tell a story, but for the sake of him not getting pissy at you, you wait on him. Even if you feel a pang of jealousy with the simple word of her.

“She was beautiful. I hadn’t fully grown into my body yet, but she still saw me. I told you I was bullied here, but I was slowly turning it into a drop off. It was overgrown, and kids didn’t come here anymore. But Peggy did. She stayed a bit too far away. Watching. Always watching me. I got a bit cocky, and came by more often. Bought the land, so it was my private property. Employed Bucky and Sam. And I kept getting bigger, and finally she came and talked to me.”

You don’t even know Peggy, but you hate her. It isn’t even jealousy, okay maybe a little bit. But it is mostly due to the fact there’s something so off in her behavior. She just watched him for months?

“She was a simple girl, just wanted some weed. And came by regularly to get it. And then I got the courage to ask her out. We were inseparable. I fell so hard, and so fast. I was telling that woman I loved her everyday. Bucky and Sam kept telling me there was something off with her. She didn't want to move in, but she stayed at my house a lot. Didn’t seem to have a job, but I kept her up anyways. And then — fuck,” he slams his hand onto the steering wheel, leaving you without his warmth.

“A squad came barging into my house throwing shit all around, and what do you know, Peggy was the one leading them. She’d lied the whole time. Undercover for what she felt was the next up and coming drug ring. Sam and Bucky were right, and smarter than that bitch. They cleaned out my house the night before. She was the one that shoved me to the floor, got me in a submissive position on my knees and demanded for me to tell her where the drugs were. I just smiled up at her. I spent a few weeks in jail. And come to find out later she actually is dating Rumlow. Maybe she’s going to bust him, too. Maybe she actually loves him, I don’t know. But I’ve never trusted another woman. Nor been put in that position again.”

It's your turn to go silent. You hated that bitch. How dare she even touch Steve. She got all that with him. All the love and words, and before you. It shouldn’t matter, but she broke him. And the realization of him holding her actions over you. She made him not trust women so much that he couldn’t even be honest with you.

”Until you,” your head slowly turns to look at him, and he’s never seemed so torn. His eyes are glossy, and face solemn, and all you want to do is hold him. “I got on my knees for you. I have left you in my home alone. I have entertained you for months, and I’ve done everything I said that I would never do again, and it’s all been for you. I can’t — Dovey, I’m sorry, I can't say those words you deserve to hear.”

You let out an air of breath that you aren’t aware you were holding, as you search his face. He is being as candid as he can, and his hurt from being used, and lied to still lingers. But he said you deserve to hear the words.

“Steve, I told you it was enough. I will hear those words from you, but what’s more important I feel those words from you. I see them. I didn’t know about what she did to you, but I know that every time you drop to your knees to put my shoes on, it is something that isn’t easy for you, and you’ve given that to me more than once.”

“All that I told her should have been for you.”

“It will be,” your hand cups his cheek, and you place a kiss on his face. Kissing away the single tear that rolls past his lash line. She might have gotten the words, but you get the actions. “Why did you have everything from the playground removed?”

“I didn’t,” his lips turn up into a smile, but he doesn't dare to look out at the former park. His dark lashes splay across his cheeks, keeping his eyes closed, choosing to feel this moment instead of just seeing it. “That piece of equipment doesn’t look familiar? That is the first place that I stared at the face of God. It holds a special meaning to me,” you roll your eyes, attempting to turn away from his silly self when he grabs at your face. Hand on your jaw, making you look at him. His fingers are steady but not too harsh.

His eyes open slowly, and you stare at his perfectly imperfect blue eyes with their bit of green lacing through the crystal blue, “Don’t look away from me when I’m talking to you, and being sweet.”

“You’re talking about my pussy.”

Steve gives you a boop to your nose and a too innocent smile for him, “I think you mean my pussy. At least that’s what you tell me every time I fuck into you. Are you saying I don’t own this pussy anymore,” the hand holding onto your jaw falls in between your thighs, and cups your covered mound. “I do love that you wear skirts. Do you realize how easy it would be to move these panties over and…hey!”

He yells after you as you jump out of the car. Looking back at him with a playful grin. “If it’s your pussy, come and claim it!” Squealing you run away from the giant tattooed man that stomps after you. He doesn’t even have to run with his long strides. But you don’t stop.

Bobbing and weaving on the mostly empty lot. Looking back at him laughing carelessly, and you see the first genuine smile spread across his angelic face. If it wasn’t for his chiseled body covered in ink, he’d look almost boy-like. You’re glad he didn’t tattoo his face. But right now in this moment, you see him for the man he was before his harsh world crashed over him.

Crinkles at the edge of his eyes that you love to kiss. You wished you could see those lines more often. They did seem to be making an appearance more often now. His lines on his face told a story, much like the tattoos and scars that stained his skin.

He reaches out a hand to grab you, but you dodge his advance. Doing a quick twirl before you sprint away, and turn to look at him, “Is that the best you got, Rogers?”

“Now, you’ve gone too far. Take that back!” You’re almost tempted to call him that again.

“Never, daddy!” He growls, wrapping his hand around your wrist, but you slip away. “Stevie, you really are losing your touch. AHH!” You screech when both his arms wrap around you. He pulls you so tight against his body it takes your breath away. You struggle to get away, not wanting this playful Steve to disappear just yet.

Struggling so hard that the two of you slam onto the ground in a fit of giggles, “What was it that you called me, Dovey?”

“Captain,” laughing when he rolls his eyes, and shakes his head no.

“You’re such a liar,” he crows, his teeth nibbling on your neck. Playfully biting you, while demanding you admit the names you called him. “Tell me, baby,” his voice turns labored. The playful chase already over as you wiggle around in his embrace.

His thumb hooks under the elastic of your panties. And he starts to jerk down the cotton. Lifting you up a bit to fully remove them. Legs being pushed apart by his wide body, and you pull at his button, trying to release the monster cock that is straining in these jeans. “Tell me first, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

Pushing aside your hand, he pulls himself out. You yip at the sight of his pretty little piercing coated in beads of precum. Gripping the base of his cock he pumps himself a few times before rubbing his tip through your drenched center. His squishy head barely pushing through your entrance, “I called you Rogers,” his hips thrust forward, leaving you blinded by the intense and immediate stretch.

Vision is blurry. Like a filter had been laid over the world around you, and all you see is him. All you feel is his weight lowering over top of you, and his arms caging you. The cold grass tickling your backside. Senses on overdrive because he gave so much of himself to you today.

“I called you — daddy,” you scream out as he fucks into you so hard and deep his tip kisses the edge of your cervix. The one name he told you not to call him, and you would pay for your indiscretions in pleasure. You are now aware of how you haven’t fully taken all of Steve from the way he is filling you up. A perfect fit indeed as you revel in having him so purely. His hips piston him deeper into your warmth than he’s ever been. Branding you in a different way than before. This is just for you and him.

”Fuck,” Steve grouses, a hand slides up to your neck. Keeping his eyes on yours as he adds a bit of pressure. He is fighting off saying what he really wants to say. Using your body to work through his emotions. Never looking to where the two of you connect, keeping both eyes trained on you.

The softest whimper explodes out of his chest as he holds your gaze, “You’re my best friend.”

His words contradict his sharp thrusts inside of you. “You are. I trust so few, but I trust you…the most,” you preen at his words. Mewling out his name, and circling your legs around him. Allowing your body to take every part of him. Soft words with harsh movements have your body floating and unable to focus.

“I love…love spending every day with you. I don’t want to miss a day,” he is getting there. Slowly. But he is. And judging by the sparks going through your body, you’re also almost there.

“You’re my best friend, too, Captain. Now finish me,” he rams into you. Hitting you in all the right spots until your eyes go crossed, and you roll them into the back of your head. “Steve!” you scream out as your body begins to tremble. There is nothing but the two of you out here in the middle of nowhere where Steve changed your life. And now you are also changing his life.

“My pussy sure does feel good,” he smirks at you. His body slams into you, and your back skids across the ground in the most delightful pleasured pain. You owned him. He is yours. And you will do everything to protect him. This stunted man is now yours to protect. He could hide and deny it, but he is yours.

“Your pussy is only for you.”

“Good,” he growls as you arch your back into him. Bringing yourself close to him. Your body stiffens up. Everything builds to the climax. Looking deep into his beautiful eyes, he nods, “Let go, Dovey,” and everything crashes down around Steve. Your velvety walls cling tight to his thick girth, and his sticky heat fills you up.

He lets your body sink to the ground slowly, and he smirks down at you. “You’re so pretty like this. Fucked hard and dumb, and filled to the brim of…”

“Steve Rogers,” you coo. You’d let this man do whatever he wanted to you. He is powerful, scary, intimidating, but to you he’s just your Captain.

“Let’s go home, sweetie. You need a bath. You have leaves in your hair,” he picks out a leaf, holding it up to prove the mess he made. “Plus you smell like dirt. Come on,” he slowly pulls himself out of you, flicking his eyes down to look at your spread legs. “When can we take that thing out of you?”

“Steve! I have only been having sex for a couple of months. Give me at least a year.”

”I love it when you whine, but a full year?” You nod, going to stand up. Wincing as you reach for your panties he really was deep. Body wobbling, and Steve holds you upright, but still keeps your panties out of your reach, and you stomp your foot. “If I have to wait a year, you have to ride back home with no panties.”

”Steve, your cum…”

“Yes, the thought of my cum leaking out of your cunt is part of the appeal of this arrangement,” exhaling quickly, you start walking away from him. “Oh, cutie, you acting like a brat and seeing that run down your leg is turning me on again.”

“Wash me clean, and you can have your pussy again.”

”I wasn’t going to ask,” he gulps, continuing to watch you walk away. You have been the best thing that’s happened to him. The best part of him. “But I’ll always ask for permission, Dovey,” he whispers, knowing you won’t hear him. “Because I love…hearing you beg.”

Steve’s hands squeeze on your foot, and he sighs when you can’t control the sounds that hum out of your mouth. “You’re the one causing those sounds,” your brow cocks up as you stare at him over the bubbles. “Can you be here with me all the time?”

“If you’ll let me suck on your clit underwater.”

You stare at him both confused and shocked. No way was he going under the water for such a thing, nor did you want his face between your legs right now. He starts to move his body from across the tub, closer to you, and you shake your head no.

“Do you doubt my abilities?”

“Not at all. I know you’d die in between my thighs and think it was the best death in the world. But I’d rather you not die,” or have him be where he was wanting his face be.

He blinks once slowly before getting even closer. Looking more like a predator than your boyfriend, “Steve, no!”

“Then sit on the ledge of the bathtub.”

“I’ll get cold.”

“Then dry off and I’ll feast on my pussy in the bed.”

“Can you give me a few more moments in here? Alone?” " He shakes his head no. “Why not?”

“Why the fuck do you want to stay in the tub?” Because you needed to. Did he not get you needed private time sometimes?

“I have something I need to do, and I don’t want you in here,” pursing his lips, he narrows his eyes while watching you. Making you uncomfortable with how hard he’s staring at you. “Stop! Get out, and give me just a moment.”

“What do you need to do that I can’t see?”

“Seriously?” He scoots a bit closer to you, and you push your foot up against his chest, holding him in place. All the while knowing that this would not keep him away from you, “What are you doing?”

“Going to suck on your clit,” like it is the most obvious answer in the world. Shaking your head no, Steve sighs. “You know I could lift you up and make you do whatever I want you to, so why don’t you explain to me what the problem is, and why you don’t want me to touch you right now?”

You take a long look at Steve, sighing before looking down at the bubbles. Steve had done so much to break down your walls. He had made you a completely different person, a stronger person. He had turned your world upside down. Had just been inside of you, but you don’t want his face down there.

“Dovey?”

“I need to shave,” Steve scoffs, trying to push his body towards you. “Steve, stop. I don’t want your face there.”

“Does it look like I care about a little bit of hair. Let me suck your clit.”

“No.”

“Even though you’re pissing me off, I do think I have found the perfect woman. Because you, my darling, don’t put up with my bullshit. How does it feel to be the only woman that has ever tamed Steve Rogers? Don’t,” the timbre of his voice lowers when you cross your arms across your chest.

He stares deep into your eyes as he gets a bit closer to you. Gaze never leaves yours, but he uses a hand to cup your mound. His fingers roll over your entrance as he tilts his head watching you, “It’s not that bad.”

“It is to me, and I haven’t even found the energy to get away from you to shave.”

“Since I’m such a menace to you, let me shave you,” it is a simple statement and said so easily, but the audacity of this man.

“No.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“It’s one of your favorite things about me.”

“I’m a bigger fan of my pussy. Let me shave you. I’ll get it how you like it because frankly, I don’t get a damn. But I also get to see the face of god,” he’s relentless. Ridiculous even. A menace for you. And the way his eyes flick all over your face, and he never once pushes past your entrance, just lazily taps his fingers on it. “It will be so fucking sexy.”

You’re doubtful of that. You also don’t trust that Steve won’t try to devour you, regardless of what you want. “I want to do it, Dove. I will bow down before you and shave every inch of you if that is what you want. I want to be in every part of your life. Even the parts that you find embarrassing. Because all I know is I get to spend even more time with my favorite girl. Please, Dovey. I’m begging you, please, let me shave your pussy.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you sigh, biting at your lip.

“Neither have I. You get another one of my firsts. Just…just sit on the edge of the tub. I’ll be careful,” he wouldn��t stop until you give him what he wants. And there’s something adorably sexy about him wanting to take care of you in the most intimate and simple way. You want him to.

Taking a deep breath you lift yourself onto the side of the tub. Spreading your legs slowly as Steve’s face beams up at you as his eyes drift all over your body. Watching as the suds coast down your soft curves. Consuming you with his eyes alone.

“This is not that bad. But let me take care of you,” he reaches for the razor and runs a smooth hand over your mound. His thumb teases along your clit, and you can’t help but whimper out his name. “Shh, don’t make that sound just yet, Dovey,” sudding up some soap, he spreads it over your skin. Making sure to coat every bit of your exposed skin with the foam, and his hands expertly move the razor over your supple body. Making sure to clean it after every pass.

Even though you know it is killing him, he never makes a lewd joke. He doesn’t slip a finger in, it’s like this is his job. It’s fascinating to watch him. He keeps looking up at you through those inky black lashes making sure you're grading his work. And when he’s not looking at you, his tongue pushes out the front of his mouth in concentration, and you commit this moment to your memory. He looks adorable.

He always does wheng a he’s not trying to be this hard drug lord. There’s a sweetness, and a loyalty to him. This need to control, but also a need to protect and take care of you. You position yourself to lean back more, and he growls, rolling his eyes to look up at you. “This isn’t funny. You’re already torturing me.”

“I enjoy the view,” this big bad drug lord was down on his knees, and just for you. Towering above you, or bowing before you. Submissive only for you, or your fearless dominating Captain. He was all yours.

“You’re a fucking tease, too,” Steve’s hand drops into the water, giving you a clear view of his hard and angry cock under the water. “You’re killing me.”

“I enjoy you from this angle.”

“You enjoy me worshiping you right at the face of god. You’re a sweet little tease. Has her pussy spread out deliciously before me, and making me shave you. Dove, the water isn’t fooling anyone,” you hum as he lets water drip over your body, washing away the remaining bubbles before he spreads your puffy lips out. Keeping you wide open before looking up at you.

“You’re dripping. Coated in that sweet honey because all you can think about is me fucking into you so hard and deep that my sweet little Dovey falls asleep, huh? Do you like me on my knees in front of you, and taking care of you in this way?” You answer by nodding your head. He knew you too well. You’d let him command you because you knew he had these sweet moments ready to remind you it isn’t just your cunt that keeps him obsessed.

“Dove, you’re no longer in the water, and I can’t attempt to deep sea suck on your clit.”

“You are ruining a sweet moment, Steven,” Steve adjusts to his knees, letting his heavy cock rub against your leg, and your legs spread even more, “Steve,” a whispered whine escapes your mouth, and you start going into that space where he controls your every thought and movement. Making everything about pleasing him because you get the utmost pleasure.

“I will try that one day. But you need to be fucked like my sweet little slut don’t you,” your head nods. A mess of words tumbles out of your mouth, and he stands up. Cock and piercing right at your face, and you whimper. Leaning forward you kiss the tip, sticking your tongue out to lick the vein on his cock. Looking up at him through your lashes when you tongue his slit.

“You sure do love Clarence, huh?”

“He loves me, too. Doesn’t he?”

“Clarence loves and adores you,” stepping out of the tub, he turns to you, lifting you up in his arms. He carries you into the bedroom, ripping open the curtains so you can see the woods and the moonlight creating silvery light into your room. Turning to the bed, he sets you on your knees.

“Put your head on the bed, and keep your eyes on me. You’ve teased me for too long,” you do as you're told, receiving a smile, and a soft slap to your pussy, “Such a good girl for me. As much as I love your fight, when you get in this space and will do anything just for this,” he spears into you with such a hard and deep thrust, your body scoots onto the bed.

Fingers cling to the sheets as Steve pulls himself out of you, “And what my Dovey wants,” another sharp thrust has you seeing stars. Stretched out, and that cool metal grazes over your cervix, “She gets,” gripping onto your hips he pounds into your depths.

Such frenzied movements. You aren’t sure if you have ever taken him so fully like this. So deep. So full. So aggressive in his movements. “And I…soon — soon you’ll have that thing removed and I will pump you so full of me that I start growing in your belly. You’ll be so filled with all of me. Something I have never done. You’ll get it all.”

His voice is gravely despite the words coming out of them. He means every bit of it. Making you understand and know that you are his world. Giving you all that he can, and more than he has to anyone else.

“I will do whatever it takes for you, Dovey. Anything to keep you safe. But you will always be mine. There will never be another. No one can ever treat you the way that I do. I own every part of you, all the way down to your soul. We’re bonded together. In this life and the next. I’m yours, but you’re mine. All of you. Every bit of your every being. It’s all mine. All. Mine.”

”It’s all yours,” you let out a scream of pleasure. Trying to get a grip on anything because the build up for the orgasm has you on edge. Your body tenses as euphoria builds up in your body. All the way deep into your soul. The most lewd, but also innocent form of being together. Searing himself throughout your body. And you didn’t even realize just how much you are burning yourself into his world. When he said anything, he meant it. You will always be his first thought.

No one has every had this much of Steve. And he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. The first and last thoughts on his mind are always you. Everything was just you. With your body almost flat on the bed now, he stabs into you, spurting his seed into your warmth and letting you milk him clean.

Losing a bit of himself in the moment, “God, I love…this,” he pants out. Watching your eyes close, and a derpy smile on your face. “I love it.”

You sleep so soundly. Can’t even feel Steve ghosting his lips over your worn body. You never complained about how much that he needs and uses you. You always just let him have whatever he wants. Even if you’re asleep he’s going to make sure that he spoils you with his touch. The only way he can show you how much he loves you, even if he can’t say it.

Not the way he sinks into you, but these moments. The ones where you’re softly snoring, and he’s staring over your body and painting your skin with his kisses like you are the most beautiful work of art. He wants to cover you in his — touch. He is working on it. He wants to give you what you need from him. He wants it more than he wants sleep. And one day he’ll find the way to give you all you deserve.

He didn’t bother closing the curtains and blinds. You love watching the woods outside to fall asleep. Saying that it makes you feel closer to him because it was just the two of you and the creatures.

He blinks, looking out into the distance when a flash of light catches his eye. Staring down onto the forest floor when he slings the blanket off him. Taking a moment to make sure you’re still asleep before he walks out the cabin. Teeth already clenched together as he marches down into the darkness.

Stopping when he squares up against a woman that once upon a time could have looked just like you. Her eyes lifeless as her sight moves from the bedroom window to Steve, “Didn’t bother to put a shirt on did you?”

He glares at her, snapping his fingers in her face when she looks back up at your sleeping form, “I need some money.”

“I told you I wasn’t giving you money,” his voice is quick and final, and she pouts up at him.

“She gets money.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Oh right, she lets you use her,” every conversation starts the same with her. Always money. Always he uses you. “Does she know?”

“That I paid for a fucking apartment and you trashed it, and got kicked out? No. I told her I would keep you safe. I don’t know what the fuck all that does because you can’t keep you goddamn nose clean. Let me see in between your fingers.”

“Fuck you!” Steve didn’t have to see. He could tell by the state of her, she’s no longer clean. A junkie that had nothing to lose and knew where he lived was dangerous.

“Why are you here, Lark? How did you know about our home?” She cocks up her eyebrow, looking Steve up and done before staring at his brand. “Yes, ours. How did you find this place?”

“I know people. Pussy gets you a lot of things. Ask my sister,” if she wasn’t a woman Steve would have backhand her.

“My patience is growing thin. What the fuck did you want,” she looks back up at your sleeping body, conflicted with emotions at how comfortable and unknowing you are. Did you even realize the shit Steve was into? Or did you just not care? The people that Steve employed? What they could do to you. “Lark!”

“Since you won’t give me money, we’re done here. I’m surprised you left her unattended. Did you remember to lock the door?” A more sinister person would smile, but Lark seems sad. Waiting for Steve to gasp before he bolts back towards the house. The door now wide open, and he sneaks around the room. Checking every dark corner before slinging the bedroom door open. You’re still asleep and none the wiser, but he can’t relax.

Needing to check the bathroom and closets, and keep turning back to you. Still relaxed and dreaming. Unaware of the turmoil that is going through his head at someone having the ability to hurt you. Didn’t even feel he had the right to crawl back in the bed beside you, or even hold you.

“Steve?” You whisper, turning in the bed to look at him. Blinking away the sleep in your eyes, “Baby, get back in bed. Can you close the curtains?”

“Yeah,” he says, telling himself the curtains will never be open again. Looking out into the woods, he wonders how Lark got here. Where she was at and where she was going. She was up to something. She wasn’t alone. He made promises to you to never hurt her, but if it comes between you and her, she will be eliminated.

“Take the sweatpants off, too,” you hated when he wears clothes to bed when you’re naked. As he tosses his pants to the side, they hit the dresser, knocking something into the floor. “The hamper, Steve.”

“Yes, ma’am,” his voice is quiet and solemn, and he doesn’t pay attention to the envelope that floats to the floor. “Let me set the alarm though.”

You’ll never be left unattended. He’d have you with him every second. You were all that mattered to him. “Mmm,” you moan, unaware of what transpired tonight. And even he wasn’t sure, but he would be soon.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovelylove

[dami-is-delusional]

Fighting or Flirting?: A Series of Confusing Events (seriously. someone stop them.) - Steve Rogers x ExHydra!Male!Reader

Summary: You used to be an experiment, curated by Hydra to be a living weapon. Somewhere along the line, SHIELD saved you and decided to place you with the Avengers. As the superficial leader, Steve Rogers tried his best to welcome you. Somehow it all went downhill from there... until it didn't!

(enemies to lovers, might not be the most accurate Steve, my second fic ever so i apologize in advance.)

PART TWO: Meeting the Avengers (and your downfall... jk it's just your future bf!)

If someone were to see your expression on the car ride to the Avengers tower, they would've assumed someone had just killed your puppy. But nope, you were simply upset that you had to join the team of heroes. Were you even going to get paid for this? Probably not. You sighed, the agent who was driving paid no mind. Now, one might be questioning why you were so against joining the Avengers. If it were anyone else, they probably would've been absolutely thrilled! Who wouldn't want to be in the same space as the heroes of New York? You. That's who.

It wasn't like you had anything against them. No, quite the opposite. You admired their heroism and their desire to keep people safe. You found it noble and extremely cool. It was like something out of your comic books. The real problem was the fact that you would have to work with them. As in teamwork. As in talking to them. As in socializing and having to hold conversations.

Due to your experience at HYDRA, you knew how to do many things. Like how to intimidate and interrogate people into giving you information. How to sneak around buildings without making a sound. How to end someone's life in 74 different ways. You know, the basics! What you didn't know how to do was how to interact with other human beings. Making conversation past a basic introduction? Not your thing! Turns out that being isolated from humanity for a good portion of your life doesn't exactly do wonders for your social life. When SHIELD took you in, you were perfectly content with going on solo missions where you only had yourself to depend on. That's what most of your life has been like anyways. It wasn't anything new. You went from one set routine at HYDRA to another set routine at SHIELD, both in which you were by yourself.

Now, you were being added to a team of people who already knew each other pretty well. You would be an outsider who didn't even know how to knock on the door. You didn't know how people behaved around each other. You didn't know how to get closer to people. You had very low hopes on surviving this. You sighed once more and the agent driver ignored you and your brooding once more as well.

The tall and imposing Avengers tower stood like a mean taunt. Poor little Y/N is going to have to function like a normal human being! Let's hope they don't secretly hate you! You looked up at it and grimaced. It almost felt like the building was making fun of you and already predicting your inevitable doom.

"Maybe doom is a bit much. Oh, who am I kidding? If I'm lucky, the building will explode and I won't have to talk to anyone," you thought hopefully. You looked at the tower for a couple more seconds. No explosion. You sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Before you could decide to run away to India, you stepped into the building.

The elevator ride up to the floor you were told to go to was nerve wracking. Questions and doubts swirled inside your mind like a snowstorm trying to keep you frozen where you stood.

“What if I can't do my job properly? What if I can’t figure out how a team works? What if I trip when I step out of the elevator and that’s all they think about?” Luckily (and unluckily) for you, your thoughts were brought to a stop when the doors of the elevator opened. Taking a deep breath and giving yourself speedrun mini pep talks in your mind, you took your first step as an Avenger.

CRASH.

Several people stumbled over to the elevator and tried their hardest (and failed miserably) to look normal and stoic. Clint Barton and Tony Stark seemed to have toppled over each other in an attempt to be first. Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner approached in a much more orderly fashion, the former looking as though she was going to whack the first duo. Finally, the poster boy of all of America. Steve Rogers. How could someone look like a Greek statue and a golden retriever?

“So these are the Avengers… at least I didn’t trip!” you thought, feeling the most joy you could muster up from this day.

The owner of the building and the man who could probably buy your entire life with one phone call started to speak first.

"So you're the new member that Eye-Patch was telling us about! Welcome to my- our tower," Tony said in greeting, correcting himself after a sharp nudge from Natasha. You knew both Natasha and Clint since they were also SHIELD agents like yourself. You hoped that they could help you out so that you didn't actually have to talk to someone entirely knew about it.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N L/N," you answered simply. You were already off to an awkward start as you stood there, unsure of what to say. You had expected this, of course, but it felt ten times more unbearable in real life.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Steve Rogers, welcome to the team," came a kind and gentle voice.

You looked over at the source and saw Captain America himself, smiling politely. What were you supposed to say to that? You didn't want to lie and say you were happy to be here.

"Shit, should I smile back? Do I say thank you? Oh wait, a thank you sounds right..."

Hoping no one took note of your obvious silent panic and hesitance, you cleared your throat, "Uh, thank you. I hope... we can get along...?" you weren't sure if you were actually replying or asking a question. At this point, you were just relieved that you managed to say something at all.

To your surprise, the recently defrosted Super Soldier just continued smiling. It was beginning to creep you out. "I'm sure we all will. We're excited to have someone new! You should join us for lunch, Stark is taking us to some shawarma place," Steve offered, his golden boy smile seemingly glowing and radiating with his optimism.

The idea of being thrown into a group social setting right off the bat made you want to jump out of a window. You prayed to some divine being that your face didn't automatically react and show your distaste to such a plan.

"I'm okay, thank you. I'm just gonna... find my room and settle down... and stuff," Lord, you wanted to shoot yourself because of how stupid you probably sounded to them. You saw the slightest falter in Wonder Boy's face but it was gone the next milisecond.

"That's alright! You do that. We can all get together another time," he suggested. You just sort of laughed awkwardly and walked past them with your bags. You wanted nothing more than to hide in a hole and never come out.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y is gonna help you find your room!" Tony called out as the group walked over to the elevator. You turned back slightly to nod in acknowledgement, even though you had no idea who the hell 'Friday' was. As you did, you noticed that Steve was staring at you oddly. He immediately looked away when you caught him. Weird... but who were you to judge?

The elevator door closed and you let out a shaky sigh. How long would you have to repeat the tedious and torturous act of making conversation? You picked up your bags, ready to crash into a bed.

Now for future references, if anyone asked you if you screamed louder than a tornado warning siren when a disembodied, robotic voice began talking, you will deny it with your whole body and soul.

So that's who F.R.I.D.A.Y is...

A/N: This totally did not take almost a full month to make, no you're just being crazy. I don't procrastinate EVER.

Side note, I don't know why I put this off for so long. I will try my best to be a tad bit more consistent in the future.

[ishipallthings]

Cap Iron Man Rec Week 2024 (Sat)

Smut Saturday - July 27th for @cap-ironman Rec Week

Smut Saturday (one day late!) - here are my recs for the sex pollen/Fuck or Die/Aliens Made Them Do It Trope 👀

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

Full Body Workout by Nix (616)

Hank has a lab accident. Steve and Tony bear the consequences.

Love Across the Multiverse by Sineala @sineala (Ults)

Mojo presents: Love Across the Multiverse! In tonight's episode, a battle-hardened supersoldier finds himself drawn to his handsome, genius teammate! It's an agonizing duel between his long-held beliefs and the secret passions of his heart! Will true love conquer all? There's only one way to find out! Don't miss the highlight of the season! (Viewer discretion is advised. Mojoworld residents who do not vote for their favorite participants of the season will be summarily sent to the arena. All hail Mojo.)

All the Love You Hold and Hide by Mireille (MCU)

On a mission, Steve triggers a booby trap that turns out to be a skeevy sex curse, of the "fuck or die" variety. Tony volunteers as tribute.

honey from your hive by meidui @meidui (MCU)

"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?" "We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."

Breathless by KandiSheek @kandisheek (MCU)

How do you even start a conversation like that? Hey, sorry, but last night you sort of jerked me off through our bond and now I know the serum makes you shoot off in like two seconds, oops. Wherein Tony can feel everything Steve feels and it makes things very awkward.

Fervor by erde (MCU, post-IW)

Steve finds himself in some particular kind of trouble after breathing a chemical. Tony, who supposedly doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, gives him a hand.

Previously Thought to be Impossible by Impala_Chick @impalachick (MCU, EG)

In 1970, SHIELD HQ was working on a powerful aphrodisiac prototype. Tony Stark from 2023 happens to cut open the wrong box at the wrong time, and Steve Rogers from 2023 doesn't know how to feel about it.

the thorn in his side by fohatic @fohatic (MCU, EG)

It had been there from the beginning. There was no end to it, that mutual wanting between them—forever unresolved—that had grown so terribly soft and unbearably romantic with age... But there was an unspoken rule between them, as well: an understanding that they could never act on it. That is, until an alien parasite's brood nest gets violently dislodged from its Chitauri Leviathan host during the Battle of New York, dispersing its contents directly over two time-jumping tourists who are very much in the wrong place and the wrong timeline.

Strong as Death by babesrgrs and the sequel Between the Shadow and the Soul (MCU, post-EG)

Steve is hit with a curse that has unexpected consequences, and Tony, who's never going on a diplomatic mission ever again, has a religious experience. The sexy kind.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Take Me To Church ||

Pairing: Skinny Choirboy!Steve Rogers | Dark!Reader.

Description: You're the giggle at a funeral; everybody's disapproval, and yet, all Steve wants to do is to give you his life. 

Disclaimer: This is a dark AU. It will contain dark and mature content. Browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): None in this chapter. But they will contain noncon/dubcon and the like. Reader intimidates Steve but that is what he subconsciously likes so much. 

Note: No physical descriptors will be used for the reader but she has a gothic fashion style because of the plot. I humbly request your feedback as it motivates me. And I appreciate reblogs because they help circulate my work, thank you!

MASTERLIST

I

Mass was almost over. And as Steve watched the preacher with a content and almost proud smile -for the man at the dais was no other than his own paternal uncle, the whispered chatter that was followed by the brief opening of the church doors made him turn his golden head in the direction of the ‘suppressed’ commotion. 

The minute Steve's eyes found the source of the little disturbance, his blue eyes narrowed at the scene that Mrs. Y/L/N did her best to cover up with a much too enthusiastic smile coupled with the directing of a laser beam hyperfocus upon his uncle the minute she sat back down in her seat. When the brooding figure next to her did not budge and continued to loom over her in the same spot it had been dragged inside to stand in, the woman roughly pulled it down beside her without averting her gaze. 

And just like that, regardless of how obscene you looked in your smeared violet lipstick that your mother had tried to wipe off before hauling you back into mass when she realized you had snuck off while she was busy making small talk with your neighbors, Steve's heart fluttered. Oblivious to his tender gaze watching you in the most profoundly wholesome way one could muster, -as he had liked you his whole life but to think immorally of you without the sanctity of marriage safeguarding your dignity and consent was a sin he could never even imagine to commit- you curled your lip in disdain and pretended as though you were very happy to be there. The jab of your mother's elbow that had caused you to do so both made Steve snort before he caught himself in time and worry if the older woman had hurt you too badly. 

Heat began to creep up his ears and cheeks and Steve knew it was his cue to look away. He didn't want to, but he had to. You were too dangerous and he was too vulnerable to you. Immoral thoughts always began to cloud and pollute his mind if he stared at you for too long. And that, he could not have. Both for your sake and his own. 

A labored sigh of longing left his pink mouth as he quickly averted his eyes when he caught himself staring at you again. You were picking at your fingers now. He could literally visualize you counting the seconds before you could leave. Steve's stomach did that thing where his affection for you made him want to pull at your cheeks to express the adoration that he felt for you. 

Preferably after he cleaned off some of your… fashionable makeup choices, of course.

. . .

“Dude, you're really serious about the Y/L/N psycho from up the road, aren't you?” Steve frowned at his best friend's back whilst the taller, broader and healthier boy crouched in front of his Harley Davidson.

“Buck,” Steve sighed in frustration. All he had wanted to talk about was how cute you looked with the messy remnants of your lipstick in the most respectful way he could. But Bucky just had to be like this. “I told you not to call her that” his eyes watched his friend's muscles flex under the thin material of his tank top and though the golden haired boy knew that envy was one of the seven deadly sins, he couldn't help but wonder if he would be more noticeable to you if his physique bore more likeness to his friend's. “You know what Father Jameson says…”

The scoff Bucky let out at that ended in a laugh as his long fingers spread over the rim strokes that he was taking his time cleaning with much care. “Yeah, right” Steve sighed again as he leaned against the brick wall behind him, crossing his humble arms over his small chest. “Fix the creepy satanist by turning the other cheek, because that would work out so well” Bucky was not as enthusiastic about religion as his best friend, but he was not on the heresy spectrum either. 

“Dude,” Steve found the town rumour about you being a satanist both outlandish and absolutely ridiculous. “That is a stretch and you know it” but he could not help but mutter afterwards, mostly to himself. “Besides, no one is beyond saving or redemption.” 

. . . 

The little bell at the top of the coffee shop entrance dinged another arrival in but Steve, who was busy taking a rather complex order, didn't look up. He had worked after school part-time long enough at this place to both get used to and grow almost ignorant of the signal during busy hours. 

But when the line moved to the point where a similar scent and shadowy figure appeared at the horizons of his senses, Steve's busy hand froze and his much practiced, nearly mechanical greeting died on his tongue at the rather shocking sight that welcomed him. 

“Y/n~!” You looked up from your phone out of concern for how breathless the cashier sounded. “W- What… what can I… I…” You narrowed your eyes from under the dark brown hood that was pulled over your head, wondering if the blonde boy at the other side of the counter was having some kind of a fit. “I…” It was not that you cared whether the little dude died or whatever, but rather you preferred he did so after taking your order so you could be on your way. 

“Coffee, black” and so you hurriedly uttered out your order in a near panic. The boy seemed like he didn't understand you at first. As if you were speaking a language alien to his very red ears. But then he did a weird double take and nodded quickly before looking down and punching your order in the machine with such force that it appeared as though he was trying to crush the buttons with his skinny little fingers. 

You raised an eyebrow, not out of concern but more at the comical absurdity of this queer little boy that you felt like you had seen somewhere before but could not pinpoint where. You dug inside the pockets of your black skinny jeans and took the money out to pay because you knew the rate and he was malfunctioning way too much for your patience.  

“That’ll be—” you slid the exact amount on the counter before he could finish his sentence. “Oh, thank you…” You rolled your eyes to yourself. It was bad enough that your usual cafe was closed today and now you had to deal with an overly nice, glitching twink. “N- Nice day out… huh?” 

The way your eyes moved from your phone to his face and then down to his nametag caused the thick black false eyelashes you wore over the smoky eyeshadow to move rather dramatically. 

Steve decided he liked it.

“Uh…?” You squinted as you made out his name from under the frilly church badge that he wore in honor of something you couldn't care less about. “... Steve…?

“Yes!?!” Steve's bright blue eyes were wide as he gripped the edge of the counter as if he was on the verge of exploding. “Something you wanted?!”

You leaned in, tilting your phone to the side to look at him properly. “The receipt…” His flashing blush was so deep in shade that it seemed for a second as though the heat would start to steam out of his ears next. 

“R- Right, right!” Steve's voice was embarrassingly loud as he snatched the token-bill out of the machine before holding it out to you with too much force than he intended, not that it was much coming from someone like him. 

You just gave him a weirded out look before accepting the paper by pinching at one of its edges and taking it from him and moving out of the way. You were not sure if Steve noticed it or not, but the people behind you were groaning out of frustration because of his little display that had made you hold the line up for way longer than was needed. You rolled your eyes again, both at him and the people. 

What an inconvenience.

But Steve's mind was way too occupied with something else to notice the unhappy customers. As he tried to go back to his work with no awareness of how the elderly lady in front of him frowned at him, he felt his heart leap up from how you paused and half-turned. He could not decide why you tilted your head the way one did when they were considering something the person next to them was saying. Because there was no such person with you. You slowly further craned your neck to look behind you before your eyes found him again. You narrowed your dark eyes on him as if… perhaps… you could hear someone saying something about him. There was literally no one there but Steve subconsciously focused on you, unsure of what outcome he expected to achieve by doing so. 

But the shrill voice of Mrs. Jackson nearly gave him a heart attack as it brought him out of his little bubble and he blinked to recalibrate before shaking his head at the absurdity of his thoughts and then willing his hands to return to their work. 

. . .

“Ma…” Steve muttered under his breath as he closed his eyes in frustration, sighing into his orange juice. “It was one time” he put emphasis on the quantitative adjective before crossly shooting his best friend a sharp look. 

Bucky was not bothered in the least as he scarfed down Mrs. Rogers' morn cooking with full satisfaction after ratting her son out to him. 

“It's not about that!” She put both his and Bucky's lunches -who was basically her unofficial son and Steve's unproclaimed sibling at this point- with a force not violent or traumatizing on their still young minds but harsh enough to add effect to her words. “It's about you not even mentioning it to me!”

“Mom…” Steve's ears were red. “You're embarrassing me…” He felt like kicking his friend's happy form.

“I am embarrassing you?! Me?!” Bucky chuckled in a manner aimed at further encouraging his mother before shaking his head at his best friend. “You're the one keeping secrets from me!” 

“You tell him, Sarah!” Bucky smirked when Steve glared at him. As if adding fuel to the fire wasn't enough, he was calling the woman by her name. Mrs. Rogers didn't mind because it made her feel young but her son didn't like it when his best friend did it with that cocky playboy expression of his. 

Steve knew Bucky too well. 

And the plethora of information was a rather mortifying one. 

“Dramatic much?” Steve chose to say instead, shaking his head at the both of them.

“Steven!” And he stood up at that, swiping his mini-package from the table as he did so. 

“Ma, it was one time and only because her usual coffee shop was closed. She usually doesn't come by the place at all…” As he stuffed his lunch in his bag before zipping it, he added for good measure, “I promise.” 

“Notice how he knows that?” Bucky swung his bag over his shoulder after doing the same thing and laughing as he ran by Steve to avoid being hit.

“Mom—” the golden haired boy began after glaring at the way his best friend had left but the older woman cut him off.

“Just… be careful and stay away from that girl, okay?” Mrs. Rogers took his soft face in her hands and looked into his eyes. Steve's heart melted from the affectionate gesture right away and all ire transformed into guilt for feeling annoyed simply because his mother was looking out for him. “Because Mrs. Johnson told me the most horrific thing! Her younger daughter goes to school with her and—” Mrs. Rogers treated you like you were one-who-must-not-be-named and whilst it was funny to an extent, it never failed to drag Steve's spirit down. “She told Mrs. Johnson that that devilish girl said the most heretical—”

“I will, mom. Don't worry. Gotta run now, bye” Steve did not like it when anyone spoke ill of you or mistreated you. Even if the person was his own dear mother. “I love you!” The short boy rushed out. 

Only, he was met with a very angry Bucky who was cussing out an anonymous offender because the tires of his motorbike that the brunette had parked in front of Steve's house had been very intentionally slashed while he was inside. Usually, the two friends rode to school together even though it wasn't considered very cool by their peers but they didn't care. The blonde bent to pick up the brunette's backpack that he had angrily hurled on the pavement before beginning to push his vehicle down the road and to the nearest garage without another word. Steve sighed as he jogged back up to his front door since Bucky lived in the opposite direction of school and the golden haired boy was already short on time. So he dropped Bucky's bag on his mother's rocking chair that was adjacent to the door before beginning his hopefully short walk. 

Although Bucky was popular both around the neighborhood and at school, the same could not be said about Steve despite his good grades. So as he made his way down the sidewalk, hands gripping the straps of his backpack with his head down and eyes mindlessly watching how his feet moved, he did not expect to hear his name being called until the class attendance. Consequently, he missed the whistle that prompted his attention. 

When he did not pick up on it and walked on, the person grunted before speaking up. “Hey, you!” He still didn't stop or raise his blonde head, so the husky voice hailed again. “Rogers!” He froze. 

Was he hearing correctly?

No…

This couldn't be…

“What, you deaf too?” Steve's eyes widened and his head whipped to seek you out, too shocked to notice your jab at his physical ailments. The bright blue of his orbs excitedly twinkled in reaction to his rising adrenaline. 

“Y- Y/n…” He breathed out when he found you at last, turning in your direction to look at you properly. 

“So he hears! Praise the Lord!” You sarcastically teased from where you were leaning against the narrow alley wall next to the local grocers. 

Steve flushed, both shocked and mildly offended. He had never seen you speak to or approach anyone before let alone him. Especially after the scene he had made during your last meeting. 

He raked his mind for words but none came to him. All he could do was blink at you with his pretty pink lips agape, cheekbones red. 

“They're playing A Nightmare on Elm Street at the local theater tonight…” You tilted your head to the side with a ‘friendly’ smile, waiting for him to catch on.

Steve vigorously nodded like an eager little puppy, shooting you a big smile like you had just imparted some great universal truth upon him. You raised an eyebrow at him as you tapped your crossed arm with your index finger, feeling your lips break into an amused smirk at how he malfunctioned. 

His eyebrows eventually furrowed when he slowly realized your expression and let his mind replay what you had said. 

“H- Huh?!” Was all he could let out once he did so. “Uh… okay…?”

Of course. You thought to yourself before sighing and rolling your eyes. 

“The cashier didn't have change so he ended up giving me two tickets” you dangled them between your fingers after fishing them out of your jeans, the hood you wore on your head casting a shadow over your dark makeup. “And who would be better company than the nice barista who lives down the street, right?”

Steve's throat felt as though a hundred thorns had coiled around it. “N- Not a… barista…” He did not have to, but he felt the need to do so for the sake of being honest with much difficulty, blushing up a storm. “Just… the cashier…” You snorted as you let your shoulders push you off the wall. “A- And down the road… not s- street…”

You gave him a considering nod. “Tomato, to-mah-to” now you walked closer to him, unknowingly pulling the very air from his lungs as a result. “7pm, sharp. Don't be late.” And you walked off with your characteristic coolness, not looking back and leaving Steve to his disbelief and eventual nervous breakdown due to the shocking turn of events. 

. . .

Everything Tag <3: @rosecentury

[1000plants]

You Don’t Know Pt 2

Steve Rogers x reader (GN)

Summary: Steve Rogers and his pretentious “know it all” attitude is getting on your last nerves. Neither of you know what to do about it. Maybe this nice little therapy session with our favorite therapist would help! 

Warnings- mentions diets and body image (no body description given, but comments on food are VERY briefly made.) The whole chapter is a therapy session, a brief flashback (blood, weapons, etc) 

Word count- ~4k

Authors Note- This has a little bit of backstory to it 👀👀 mostly me using my real therapy sessions as a twinge of inspo <3 I promise Steve will become more likable in the next few chapters, and we will also become a bit more bearable lmao. Still, enjoy xoxo

Chapter 2/?

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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The door to Dr. Raynor's office swung open, hard. The oak wood door smacked the wall loudly, bouncing back towards you with a dull thud. But your anger was faster than the door you were adjacently pissed at. You stormed into the room, the doctor wasn't even phased by your intense entrance. Your flare for the dramatic was always on show right before a session. Though, usually it was a brooding look, angry huff, and stomping feet. 

Red hot agitation was rare.

"made it." Was all you grumbled out, teeth aching from how firmly you were gritting them. You loudly sighed through your flared nostrils as you flopped onto the couch. Your body language was closed off, lying on your back with the heels of your palms pressing against your eyes. One leg bent up on the couch, the other hanging off and touching the floor. In your ideal world, you would've vented to Bucky or maybe JARVIS, not go to her. Neither of them really criticized you much for being pissed off with Steve.

Dr. Raynor just glanced over the top of her glasses, a single brow raised in your direction. She was used to your outbursts by now. She was just casually holding her notebook and pen, it seemed that she had been aimlessly drawing spirals on it before you stormed in. You were, admittedly, a bit surprised she was even expecting you to show up.

“So you decided to come today.” Dr. Raynor sat back in her chair, a small amused smile on her face. She let her hands relax, the notebook and her pen sat gently on her lap as she tilted her head toward you.

“And only 10 minutes late,” she added, pressing her lips together to avoid a bigger smile. She was clearly trying to hold back a laugh. Why exactly? You weren't exactly sure. She always acted as if there was a little secret between the two of you when obviously there wasn't.

"Rogers," was all you sharply replied with. You tried to seem disinterested, feeling slightly self-conscious about your obvious anger. Distracting yourself by looking out the window was always a good idea… even if there wasn't anything interesting outside.

Mh, Well…. Maybe the little joke was that you only ever complained about him… it wasn't even a funny joke.

You had spent a lot of time in therapy talking about your, oddly consistent, feud with Steve. The two of you just couldn't seem to get along. You swore up and down Steve was just a hardass who couldn't stand you. He’d make small jabs about your form on missions, every little mistake or slip-up, and even comment on your workout routines and diets. Which, considering Tony ate junk food every other meal, and you mainly stuck to the clean SHIELD Agent diet… the comments felt a lot more personal rather than constructive.

"He's still a dickwad," You added, removing your hands from your eyes and staring at the ceiling.

Hey, at least being ten minutes late meant you only had to be here for 50 minutes instead of a full hour. Not like you would've stayed full-time, anyway. You always had a plan in place to get out early. Whether that is a fake emergency call from Fury, a text from Bruce, or even an alert from JARVIS saying something was wrong at the tower.

You. Never. Stayed.

Dr. Raynor huffed a short laugh, picking up her notebook and pen from where they sat on her lap. She flipped to a new page, clean from her previous scribbling.

“You say that every week.” She responded with a small, amused smile. The sound of her pen softly writing against the paper was cue enough that she was noting your entrance and word usage. Admittedly, it was funny to think that she was writing dickwad in her professional therapy notes.

“I think you need to come up with new names for Steve. Dickwad is getting stale.” She hummed as if your conversation was normal. To give the doctor some credit, she was damn good at making you feel like you weren't an Avenger. Sometimes it was annoying, you'd feel like a child getting scolded… but most of the time you just felt a little more… normal. 

"He's.... uhhh," you sigh, wracking your brain for another insult. One that would be devastating, brutal, downright evil to call Steve… 

"old."

Dr. Raynor looked up from her notebook, a tickled smile on her face. “Very creative.” She replied, deadpan. She set down her pen, crossing her legs. “I’m assuming he was the one who caused a disruption in your usual routine this morning?”

Dr. Raynor has been keeping a close eye on your day-to-day functions over the past few months. Waking up at the relative same time every day. Breakfast, quick shower, brush teeth, workout, real shower, lunch, side work, dinner, hang out with some of the team, bed. That was the bare bones of your day, give or take a few things, you lived a fairly simple life. Save for, of course, the days you had missions, more intense workout sessions, or even a day off from being a hero. The only time a disruption became a problem was when that disruption was 6’2”, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed…

"He just can't be, just so... what's the word," you sigh, your anger more of just frustration and slight tiredness from the sparring session. You ran your tongue over your teeth, stopping yourself from gritting them more and giving yourself a bigger headache. Your hands had been laced over your stomach, but they were now picking at the other's nails.

"He just has to be so self-righteous all the time. He can't let anyone else... be better." you clarify, finding the right words. He hadn't let you bask in your moment of beating him at sparring, and that was picking in the back of your mind.

Dr. Raynor nodded in understanding, making a quick note in her notebook. “Is it fair to say that’s because of his leadership position?” She asked.

“Steve is very…. Particular about his role on the Avengers and taking charge. Does that make you feel like you’re being pushed aside?”

"I guess." you dryly admit. You hated when Dr. Raynor hit the nail on the head. Because of Steve, you were still being treated like a SHIELD agent that was war fodder… not like the impressive new Avenger you actually were.

"He still calls me "rookie" and "newbie" all the time, and I've been an Avenger for months and I've worked with SHIELD for years!" you grumbled. You crossed your arms over your chest, shutting your eyes and debating if the couch you were lying on was comfortable or not. 

Dr. Raynor continued to watch you with interest, still silently taking notes. Her pen on paper was a nice little change from the monotonous sound of the air conditioning in the room, “Sounds like Steve is still treating you like an inferior.” She mused. “How does that make you feel?”

The doctor knew that Steve’s stubbornness and tendency to boss you around wasn’t necessarily his fault-- soldier brain, she called it. She did wonder if there was something else to the tension between the two of you, though. She had mentioned it briefly, once, but you had just loudly laughed then left the room with a loud declaration that you needed a drink. It has been a Tuesday… 9 am. You were drunk by 10 that day.

"How do you think it makes me feel?" you sarcastically ask, opening your eyes to look at Dr. Raynor with an unimpressed glance. It was more of a glare, in all honesty. The woman was talking like it was a mystery how being treated like dirt might make a person feel.

You sigh and sit up on the couch, elbows on your knees as you move to plant your feet on the ground. You thought it was a nice way to keep yourself grounded, Dr. Raynor said it was a weak attempt to look intimidating. You rubbed your eyes and glanced out the window with a small exhale from your nose. The sky was slightly gray, it was early spring but there were still a decent amount of rain showers throughout the day.

The doctor clicked her pen as you looked out the window, a habit Dr. Raynor would point out what you did when you were trying to avoid the topic at hand.

“I think it makes you feel like a child.” Dr. Raynor responded bluntly. “Like he’s talking down to you, and treating you like you’re below him.”

You give her a small nod, lips tugged down in a small yeah, that's about right, expression.

“Have you ever told Steve how you feel?” Raynor questions. Her voice was mostly expressionless, though remained soft with a slight firmness laced in it.

You snort, shaking your head slightly. Your teeth play with your lower lip as you continue to look out at the New York skyline. It was an ugly view, but it beat the intense stare of a shrink.

"I tried once, but... I dunno, it didn't work." you shrug, acquiescing on your lack of engagement.

In all honesty, it was a half-assed attempt. You had brought it up mid-mission while you and Steve were getting shot at. But, in all fairness, you technically did try!

-------

The sound of the bullets hitting the soft dirt was oddly not scary. It was a lot more scary when the small grenade blew up the rotting tree just a few meters away. The blast threw you off balance just enough to send you rolling to your left. Landing on your already injured arm. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as pain rippled through your body, a bullet had already grazed your right arm, and now your left was definitely bruised along with the cut on your forearm that was now bleeding. The mud that had smattered on your face caused the scrapes and cuts to burn.

Then, out of nowhere, a loud voice snarls in your ear, “You've got to be more careful, rookie!” Steve said, roughly grabbing your forearm and pulling you from the ground.

The HYDRA base you had been sent to was a lot more guarded than Tony had thought It’d be. What was assumed to be 10 soldiers ended up being over 100. And they were a lot more than you had been prepared to deal with

“I-- Hey!” You yelp, face flushed red as the supersoldier manhandles you easily. You could take care of yourself, you didn’t need Captain Asshat to be covering you. 

And- Hey, wait? Natasha was your partner for this mission… Why was Steve here?!

“I can handle myself, Steve,” You huffed into the comms, immediately getting yourself back on your feet as you continued your rush back to the Quinjet. Sam had retrieved the data from the base you had needed, and since your little team of four was vastly outnumbered, y’all decided to just get back to the base ASAP. 

You forced your legs to carry you through the soft grass as you ran in pace with Steve. A small accomplishment you felt incredibly proud of.

“Sure you can,” Steve chuckles dryly, not even sparing you a look as you weaved through the wild plants, “That's why you almost got blown to pieces, yeah?”

“I tripped for a moment,” You counter, neither of you slowing down as the Quinjet came to view. Both of you rushing to just get into the damn thing.

“That moment could've cost you your life,” Steve reminds you, face stern as his feet pound at the metal of the ramp. He grumbles and yanks his helmet off, his face was dirty and sweat-clad from the mission.

Your retort of being an Avenger, just the same as him, was cut short by his finger being jabbed into your face and a stern glare. His light blue eyes never seemed more dangerous than when they stared icy daggers at you.

“You need to watch yourself. This isn't some SHIELD playground anymore. This is the real shit.”

-------

Dr. Raynor once again noted your distractions when talking about Steve.

The woman leaned back in her chair, a contemplative look on her face. “Why haven’t you tried again?”

“It’s important for you to be able to speak your mind, and let others know how you feel and see things.” The woman explained. “It’s how people fix issues and move forward.”

"Every time I bring it up, bring anything up to him... he compares me to Bucky or Natasha or Bruce. I can't just, ugh, be myself." you found the words slipping out faster than you could bottle them up.

"I need to be more stealthy like Natasha, more intuitive like Wanda... more open during therapy like Bucky," you said the last part mostly under your breath.

Your gaze fell to the floor, leg bouncing slightly. You bit the tip of your tongue, regretting letting the last part slip out.

Dr. Raynor was silently filling her notebook the whole time, letting you say whatever came to mind. You were starting to understand why Bucky saw the notebook as a more passive-aggressive statement rather than something helpful. You also partially wondered what she was writing.

She was probably drawing, you thought. Little houses, cats… disproportionate flowers...

“And you think Bucky is more open?” She questioned, a knowing smile on her face. You were snapped away from your thoughts of doodles by how quickly she picked up on your mumbled statement.

"According to Steve, he is." you shrug, nodding along to further give weight to your statement. You tilted your head towards the doctor, meeting her gaze for a moment and holding it.

Bucky had been going to therapy longer than you, so it made sense if he was further along than you were in terms of openness. You had seen two sides of Bucky, one side that liked cooking and helping you do art... and the other side that had horrid nightmares.

Bucky was the only other person who understood your nightmares on a truly personal level.

It was easy to see how you would feel inferior to Bucky—he’d been in therapy longer and had Steve’s favor and trust. He was also a war vet just like Steve, and the two men were close. And, being Bucky's friend always left you feeling second best when it came to who his best friend was… 

It just seemed like Steve never had the same patience with you as he did with Bucky.

Dr. Raynor hummed in thought, putting the tip of her pen to her chin. “And how do you feel about Bucky?”

"He's fine, I guess." you vaguely say, you had never really announced it, defined your relationship, "We're friends... that's probably what you'd call it."

You had plenty of friends. The other Avengers were all close with you, a few buddies from your SHIELD days, and a few civilian friends. Though, those were very few. Being involved in top government duties and now being a hero didn't let you keep around friendships with people who could get kidnapped

Dr. Raynor studied you carefully as you spoke about your friendships. It was rare for you to open up in a session—most days you were closed off and uncooperative, which meant the two of you were making notable progress -- slow progress.

But today was… different. You were being strangely open with Dr. Raynor about your thoughts. “That’s it? He’s fine?” She asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

“It seems like Bucky’s a good friend to you. Is there anything more to your relationship?” She continued to question. You had mentioned once how he understood your night terrors, though that was quite literally all you had said.

Normally Dr. Raynor wouldn’t dig so deep, but you were letting her get inside your head and ask questions. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to possibly know a little more. Plus, it was clear the last thing you wanted to talk about was Steve, so Bucky was the safe second option.

You were quiet for a long time, letting Dr. Raynor feared she had pushed too hard.

You ran your tongue over your teeth, doing basically every nervous tic a person could do: bouncing your leg, rubbing your nose, looking around, etc., all to make the doctor squirm.

"He's the only one who understands the nightmares," you finally say. Dr. Raynor knew all about your nightmares. They were brutal, to say the least. Consistently as bad as the worst of Bucky's nightmares.

Dr. Raynor’s expression softened in understanding. Bucky was your anchor when it came to the nightmares—he was the only one that actually understood them. At least, on the team.

As a therapist, she knew the importance of finding comfort in others. Especially for people with PTSD. In fact, she had encouraged Bucky to also confide a little in you as well. It helped him to talk to more than just Steve about his more intense emotions.

“Do you feel like Bucky understands your nightmares more than Steve?” Raynor asked.

You just wordlessly nod. Not like you had told Steve about them. Though, thinking about it, he most definitely knew a bit more than he was letting on. The man knew the ins and outs of the whole team.

"Ive never told Stve about them,” You admit with a sigh, “But, he was so quick to get Bucky on the field and all that shit," you reluctantly say, "he's treating me like a baby. Like I can't handle myself."

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that Steve was protective over you. The whole team was very protective over Bucky and his triggers. But you weren’t Bucky, and you weren’t an ex-brainwashed assassin. You just… merely got startled by very specific noises. Unlike Bucky, there wasn't a fear of you becoming a Winter Soldier… you just kinda cried.

“Steve’s always been overprotective of anyone in his team,” Dr. Raynor explained. “He’s like a hawk—he keeps an eagle eye on you all.” She watched you to see how you reacted to that statement.

"And he needs to fuckin' back off," you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back against the couch.

You were closing yourself off again, getting frustrated and slightly overwhelmed from it all. Dr. Raynor could probably get one last solid question out of you before the session would come to an end.

Raynor jotted down a quick note before looking back up at you, choosing her words carefully before she spoke.

“I have one last question for you before our session is up.” She announced, setting down her notebook.

You were surprised that it had already been over 45 minutes. You glanced at the clock then back to the therapist. Part of you was a little peeved you hadn't even noticed the silent notification of a faux JARVIS alert.

"Yeah, fine... what is it?" you sigh out, leaning your elbows against your knees. You were itchin' to get out of here now that you realized you had possibly been gettin’ a little too friendly with the doctor.

You were already imagining what you’d make for lunch, do some laundry, maybe bake a bit… There were a few pinterest recipes that had been callin’ your name.

Raynor knew you had a… complicated relationship with Steve, that much was insanely obvious. One that often teetered the line between workplace acquaintances and…. Something more.

Dr. Raynor was a professional, but she was also observant. And there was something between you and Steve.

“Do you ever feel frustrated with Steve because you like him?”

A look of confusion and disbelief slowly appeared on your face, your eyes widening slightly. It felt like you just suddenly got slapped with a brick.

Dr. Raynor’s expression never changed as she continued to stare at you, as you processed the question, and tried to formulate a response.

“It isn’t uncommon, you know.” She spoke after a moment. “To be more…” She looked for the right word. “… frustrated with someone you like.”

It wasn’t a secret that Steve was one of the most attractive men on the team. He was tall, muscular, handsome, and not to mention the leader of the Avengers thing, the whole hero thing.

So there was no doubt in Dr. Raynor’s mind that you felt an attraction to him, at least a physical one. If the doctor would speak bluntly, she'd tell you that your frustration with the Captain was bordering on sexual, and not one-sided.

You scoffed, oh, you were definitely on the defensive now, "Are you saying I'm horny and that's why I fight with Steve?" you practically laugh in disbelief, shaking your head no as you stand up. You weren't even going to entertain the thought. 

"You've lost your mind," you say under your breath, grabbing your bag by the door. You sling it over your shoulder, the earlier frustration of letting yourself be so vulnerable was coming back. You were so stupid, why the hell would you say any of that?!

Dr. Raynor didn’t react much to your comment, only letting a small smirk play on her lips.

The woman wasn’t necessarily trying to make the implication that you were horny for Steve. That was just the usual response she got from her patients when she brought up attraction to others. And, typically the only people who used that wording were the ones who actually felt it.

“I’m not saying anything,” She responded calmly as she got up from her chair. “I’m asking. There’s a difference.”

"Oh, you're asking," you drawl with an eye roll.

"No. No, I am not horny for Steven Grant Rogers." you firmly state, your expression stern as you look back at Dr. Raynor. With brows drawn in, and jaw tensed, your next words came out like a smooth venom.

"The man couldn't make me any less horny if he tried."

Dr. Raynor had to bite back a laugh at that statement, a sly smile appearing on her face. “I’m not sure about that.”

The woman didn’t want to come right out and state the fact that you were attracted to Steve, and probably more so than you thought. And that could be the reason for your dislike and frustration towards him.

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

"I'm not convincing anyone. I'm just stating the truth," you scoff, running your tongue over your lip.

"Look, do I have homework or something? Or can I just leave now and see you next week?" you quickly ask, your hand already on the door handle. You came into this session mad at Steve, and were leaving the session mad at Steve… Woo, therapy was really workin’ out for you, huh?

“You know I don’t give you ‘homework’.” Dr. Raynor responded in an unconvincing tone, watching as you opened the door. You fought back a painful eye roll, almost wanting to snip back, yeah, and I don't want to punch Steve. 

She was getting under your skin, and she knew it.

Instead, you settled for just yanking the door open, almost as violently as you had entered. You were quick to take a few steps out of the room.

As she watched you start to walk out of the office, the doctor spoke up once more, a smirk on her face. “Oh, and do say ‘hi’ to Steve for me!”

You didn't even look back at the doctor, just flipping her off over your shoulder.

You didn't like that session

Not one bit.

Though, unbeknownst to you, Dr. Raynor had accomplished what she set out to do—get under your skin and get you thinking.

In all reality, she figured you had more than just a physical reaction towards Steve. There was no way, she believed, that you and him purely fought because of fieldwork or Avenger duties. It just didn't fit the MO of either of you. Now, if only you would at least somewhat acknowledge it to your end… But you were just too stubborn and closed off to admit anything.

Raynor could ask you if the sky was blue, and you'd tell her it was any color but.

Though, and this went for just about anyone who had to work with superheroes, she liked a challenge.

[meidui]

stevetony sex pollen fic recs

for @fluffystevefest day 5: aphrodisiac 💕

Aphrodisiac by @kandisheek

Steve gets hit with some sort of sex pollen. It must be the universe's idea of a joke to let Captain America die from horniness and make Tony his only chance at survival.

Simple Biology by @stark---contrast

“God, I'm sweating bullets in this thing,” Tony said, already unzipping his undersuit. “It’s not just me, right? It feels like a sauna in here.” And Steve's resolve crumbled by each inch of sweat-slick skin that was revealed.

Or, Tony gets hit by sex pollen. Fortunately, Steve is there to help him out.

the thorn in his side by @fohatic (or @moon-language-0 until justice is served)

It had been there from the beginning. There was no end to it, that mutual wanting between them—forever unresolved—that had grown so terribly soft and unbearably romantic with age...

But there was an unspoken rule between them, as well: an understanding that they could never act on it.

That is, until an alien parasite's brood nest gets violently dislodged from its Chitauri Leviathan host during the Battle of New York, dispersing its contents directly over two time-jumping tourists who are very much in the wrong place and the wrong timeline.

All the Love You Hold and Hide by Mireille

On a mission, Steve triggers a booby trap that turns out to be a skeevy sex curse, of the "fuck or die" variety.

Tony volunteers as tribute.

Exposed by @festiveferret @sirsapling

Of all the people Steve could be stuck with while this agonizing drug surged through him, of course, it had to be Tony Stark.

I Want to Hurt You by @festiveferret

How could Steve ever look Tony in the eye again? He loved Tony, so desperately, but he didn't know how to come back from this. He didn't know how many apologies would be enough to make up for what he'd done.

He could still feel Tony's soft skin giving to dark bruises under his fingers.

Side Effects by @elimymoons

"So what I'd like to propose," Tony continued on, "is for you to let me help you out a little, yeah? We'll work off some of this energy, some of this adrenaline, and you don't have to worry about hurting yourself anymore, okay?"

Steve's in a bit of trouble. Tony wants to help him out. Sexily.

Emergency Contact by @valdomarx

Steve has been exposed to sex pollen, and for some reason Tony is the person who's been called in to assist him.

Tony knows that he can't take advantage of Steve in this desperate state, but it's awfully hard to remember that when Steve is rubbing up against him and describing all of his deepest fantasies in excruciating detail.

Double Blind by @loftyperch

Steve signs up for a drug trial. Naughty side effects ensue.

Long Distance Relationship by @cookinguptales

So what do you do when your boyfriend gets sex pollened and you're thousands of miles away? The correct answer here is Extremis sex. Obviously.

Messes We Make by @navaan

Commander Rogers locks himself in his office with a sex-pollend Tony, he's not exactly back on speaking terms with. Things get out of hand.

calling (screaming) your name by orphan_account

in which the whole team gets vapored during battle and it affects everyone differently. Tony finds out, first-hand, how it affects Steve.

Dishonest John's Special Rates by @meh-guh

Steve runs afoul of sex pollen and Tony reaps the benefit

honey from your hive by @meidui

"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?"

"We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 8

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky get married.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language

Inside the courthouse, Bucky led you towards two men standing off to the side. Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson - your two witnesses. Steve wore tan slacks and a blue button up. His eyes were kind and body language was very approachable. You knew you’d like him. Sam wore a dark green polo with dark jeans. Very casual. He was still smiling from some comment he just made to Steve. All three of them towered over you, even in your stupid heels. Bucky introduced you; they each shook your hand and smiled politely. You were sure they pitied you, and you didn’t know how you felt about that. It probably didn’t help that you looked like a sad puppy dog, glued to Bucky’s side, overwhelmed with the bustling courthouse and impending wedding.

You were early to your appointment, so the four of you waited in the hallway. Bucky and Steve stood in the far corner, clearly discussing something serious. Sam, feeling bad that you weren’t in on it, decided to stay back and make small talk with you.

“Ever been married before?” he teased. You laughed.

“Nope, first time. You?” you asked.

“Nope. And I don’t plan on it anytime soon,” he replied. You smiled. It felt nice to be lighthearted about the situation. It helped your nerves.

You glanced back over at Steve and Bucky. Whatever they were talking about, it was frustrating Bucky. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. When he opened them, he met your gaze. You offered him a small smile, embarrassed that he caught you staring. Not wanting you to feel left out on your own wedding day, Bucky told Steve they’d talk more later and walked over to you and Sam.

“Stop harassing her, Sam,” Bucky said as he sat down next to you, swinging his arm on the back of your chair.

“Harassing? We’re having a perfectly civil conversation.” Sam turned towards you. “How do you put up with this guy? Is he always a pain in the ass?”

“No. Sometimes he’s asleep,” you joked. Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling.

Just then, you were called into the room. It was finally time. You were all nerves and froze in your seat, unable to get up. For some reason, this moment made all of it feel more real.

“Doll?” Bucky whispered to you, “it’s our turn. You ready?” You nodded, breaking out of your trance. You sure as hell weren’t ready, but you took Bucky’s hand regardless. He led you into the room and gave your hand a small squeeze. You were grateful for the warmth. The next several minutes were a blur – you were pretty sure you were dissociating.

“…take you as my lawfully wedded wife…”

You were pushing down an anxiety attack. Just breathe, take one thing at a time, you told yourself. Handle the wedding first, you can deal with everything else later. Don’t even think about the impending pregnancy right now.

“…to have and to hold…”

You fixed your eyes on Bucky’s. He could tell something was wrong but wasn’t sure what to do about it. You should’ve done this sooner – something about just looking at him was calming you down. A few more deep breaths, you told yourself.

“…for better or worse…”

You thought of his nightmares, how you have seen him look so broken and sad. How he almost killed you that first night. How he begged you to stay in your bed and leave him alone. You’ve seen him at his lowest, and if you don’t get your shit together right now, he’s about to see you at your lowest.

“…in sickness and in health…”

You didn’t notice Bucky grab your hands in his until you felt a light squeeze. You looked down – your hands looked so small in his. You admired his metal arm; how intricate it was, his fingers somehow delicate, despite knowing what they’re capable of. His flesh hand was kind of sexy, you thought to yourself. Yes good, better turned on than having a panic attack.

“…to love and to cherish…”

Your breathing was evening out and you were more aware of your surroundings. You squeezed Bucky’s hands back, as if to say you’re okay. You can do this.

“…until death do us part.”

It was time for the rings, and part of you panicked – did you even have rings? Bucky reached into his pocket and took your left hand, which was shaking terribly. He slowly slipped the band onto your ring finger. You took a moment to look at it – it was a simple gold ring with a stunning marquis-cut diamond. It was perfect.

He handed you the other ring and gave you his left hand – the metal one. You hesitated for a moment; you knew how Bucky had mixed feelings about his arms. You were honestly surprised he wasn’t wearing his gloves right now. You slipped the gold band on his finger and admired how it looked on him. It complimented the black and gold in his arm beautifully.

Next came the dreaded moment: “You may kiss the bride.” Bucky took a step forward and leaned in, gently placing his hand on your cheek. You couldn’t take your eyes off his lips if you tried. He paused a moment, as if to ask for permission. That’s when you decided to be brave. You’ve been daydreaming about this for so long. You tilted your head, closed your eyes, and closed the gap between you. Your lips met his in a delicate kiss. Despite how short it was, it sent shockwaves through your whole body.

The sound of Sam clapping loudly pulled you out of the haze. Bucky straightened up and cleared his throat. As awkward as it seemed, it was exhilarating. You could still feel his lips on yours. You took a deep breath and hummed – you did it, and no panic attack. You were officially Mrs. James Barnes.

~

You all decided to get dinner and drinks after the wedding. Guiding you to a table in the back, the waitress asked if you all were celebrating anything today. Sam wasted no time in answering her.

“Yes ma’am these two right here just got hitched, so let’s start off with a round of drinks!” Sam was more enthusiastic about the marriage than the rest of you combined. Bucky shot him a look. Sam shrugged, “What? Maybe they’ll get us some free apps or something.”

You sat next to Bucky, who was quick to rest his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers grazed your shoulder every now and then, and it sent shivers down your spine. He was trying to be nonchalant about it. All the handholding during the ceremony – and the kiss – only made him want to touch you more. But he didn’t want to be weird about it, especially around his buddies, so he settled with occasionally brushing his fingertips against your arm.

The night went surprisingly well. Steve sat across from you and told you all sorts of stories about Bucky from back in the day. Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, which made you smile. It was nice to see him relaxed. You laughed at Sam and Bucky’s quips; they pretended to hate each other, which was kind of cute. And to Sam’s enjoyment, they did give you a complimentary dessert to celebrate the wedding. You tried to have a good time, pushing down any nerves you had about what comes next - your first night together as husband and wife.

Chapter 9

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom @learisa @pono-pura-vida @smile1318 @stinkerbelle007 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @wonderland2425 @lowkeysebby @cookiie-c @mrsevans90 @touchit-pcy @vicmc624 @mrsbarnes32557038 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @wonderland2425 @tsofo26

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 23

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: Fiona gives you some guidance and something is off with Bucky.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of witchcraft, past trauma.

Once Sam had pointed out where and what Pepper wanted in the garden you went to work, pushing your powers into the grown and manipulating the energy just how Fiona and Cordelia had taught you.

Once you’d done, Pepper had two new cherry trees and a rose bush. You sprinkled them with some rain. When you remembered Sam and Bucky were watching, you’d expected them to look shocked or worried, maybe even a little nervous but a sniff of their scents as you turned said they were happy and a little proud. Bucky was the first to speak.

“Wow.”

“You and me need to talk about crops baby girl.” Sam added.

You blushed and dipped your head, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Do you think Pepper will like it? Will it be okay? Shit maybe I should have asked first?”

“She’ll love it doll, right Sam?”

“Damn right she will. It’s exactly what she wanted. You good now? You need anything? Food? Water? A nap?”

You felt a pull on the witch wound. You frowned and took a step back.

“You OK?

“Doll?”

Before you had chance to answer you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You pulled out and saw you'd received a message.

Fiona Everything alright?

“Luna? You good? That’s not your mom is it?” Sam asked voice clipped with concern.

Bucky growled deep in his chest.

“No, sorry. It’s Fiona checking in. One of the girls is clairvoyant, she might have seen something. Fiona had a tendency to pull on the wound and then messages if I don’t pull back.” You said as you waved your phone in reference.

“Buck, the wound is…” Sam went to explain.

“I know what it is.” Bucky snapped. You frowned at him, it was a little abrupt, even if Sam had said he was usually brooding.

“You good man?” Sam asked him.

“I’m fine.” Came his short reply. “Are you okay doll?”

“I’m alright. Thank you for looking out for me.” You replied looking between them both. “I should probably call Fiona. She’ll just keep pulling if I don’t answer.”

They both nodded and you made your way back to the side of the house. Sam told you he’d grab your groceries but you assured him it was fine and used your powers to open the trunk and pull them out and into the house with you. You thanked them again and closed the door. You watched as they went down the path but noticed Bucky hesitate and glanced back. You pretended to busy yourself and you watched his shoulders slump as he trailed behind Sam.

You felt Fiona pull again. You pulled out your phone and video called her. She answered and you were the first to speak.

“You know you’re very impatient.”

“Well people get impatient when they’re worried. Now what’s going on? Nan was worried although I see why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look like shit.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Go make a goddess bath, pour yourself a glass of the wine I gave you and call me back.”

Before you had a chance to answer she’d hung up. You put away the groceries and did as instructed but questioning yourself as to why you were letting her order you around from miles away. She pulled on the wound again as you slipped into the very large and fancy looking tub. You’d added oils, petals and crystals from your bag and lit some candles. Calling Fiona back you positioned the phone on the nearby sink but angled it so she couldn’t see your naked form completely. It connected as you heard Cordelia’s voice in the background’s telling Fiona not to be too hard on you.

What had you done now?

“Now, tell me child what possessed you to call, and I use the term loosely, your mother.”

You slipped down the bath in a bid to hide.

“And don’t think hiding in there is gonna help you either!”

You shrugged your shoulders and took a sip of wine. Fiona had left it with you as she’d left the hospital and you could see why. It was strong, yet fruity and didn’t taste like any wine you’d ever had. You suspected Fiona and Cordelia had made it themselves.

“Talk to me child.”

You felt yourself relax and realised you’d not really eaten and the wine was very much in your system.

“I just, so much has happened, and then there’s Steve and I just.” You sighed. “It never goes away does it?”

“What doesn’t?”

“The urge to call your mother.”

You didn’t need to look at your phone to know her eyes were narrowed at you and Fiona didn’t need to see yours to know they were full of sadness.

“Y/N. There are two definitions of a mother. One is the woman that birthed you. The other is the one that raises you, loves you and teaches you. Which one is yours? Is she both or one?”

“We both know she isn’t the second one.”

“Exactly.”

“Molly used to say it. The urge never goes away. She called her parents after she met Sam.” You said quietly.

“And what good did it do her? None. And I wouldn’t take one piece, not even a crumb, of advice from someone who abandons their friends like that. What did your mother say? Did she give you answers?”

You scoffed.

“The only answer she gave me was that she didn’t want me.”

“Child we knew that already.” Fiona replied, her accent thick. You hummed in reply.

“I just thought, I actually don’t know what I thought. I just, I don’t know, I think I just wanted her to know my second chance had finally rolled around I guess.”

“And what are we doing about that? Has he taken you out yet? Is he courting you?”

You saw Nan appear in the background of the call as you slipped further down into the tub. Fiona turned towards her briefly but she was quick to turn back to you.

“You’re ignoring him!!!”

You dipped your head into the water.

“Don’t even think about trying to hide in that damn tub. Get yourself together sister and talk to him.”

You shot back up.

“I CAN’T!!!” You snapped. Fiona completely unfazed, replied softly.

“And why not?”

“You know why!”

“I do. Y/N, there’s no denying that your past has shaped who you are. The same as our past shapes us all, particularly your new pack but there’s no reason for you to let that change what you could have in the future. You never know your second chance might be the better one.”

You huffed. “You know it’s annoying how good you are at this.”

“What? Advice?”

“That, and being a mother.” You replied, just the top of your head and your eyes showing over the tub.

“You flatter me sister.” She replied, taking a sip of her own wine. "Now, tell me about this alpha. Are his shoulders as broad as they say they are? I hear great things about his ass.”

You snorted as you sat up and proceeded to tell Fiona about what had happened over the last few days. From you throwing him out the house, to him keeping watch, the wood chopping and Pietro’s offering and Sam and Bucky. She was surprisingly quiet throughout and listened intently. When you’d finished she replied with a knowing look.

“You know it won’t be long until the new moon, perfect time to bond if you ask me.”

You side eyed her and slipped back down into the water.

An hour later you were wandering around the Stark’s cottage in your robe. Your hair was still damp and although your call with Fiona was done, you thought about what she’d said. Your past had affected every turn your life had taken. Becoming a roamer. Never settling. Throwing yourself into the fight with Agatha. It didn’t need to rule your future. Did it?

You were pulled away from your thoughts as Bucky’s scent wafted up your nose. Followed by a the click of the gate and the crunch of the gravel driveway. You saw his shadow flick past the window on his way to the side door.

He knocked and you opened quickly. You realised as his eyes went wide and he looked you up and down that you were in nothing but your robe. And it was silk. You also weren’t wearing any underwear, allowing Bucky to see every curve of your body. His blushed and tried to looked down at plates of food he was carrying. Your omega and wolf, who had finally unwrapped themselves from each other following your wine and chat with Fiona, were watching him intently, heads tilted.

Your wolf took the lead.

“Everything OK Beta?” You asked softly. Bucky stifled a purr as he went to reply, clearing his throat as a cover but you spotted it.

“Yeah, erm, Sam made chicken.” He blurted.

“Chicken?”

“Fried chicken. There’s mash potatoes too. Some beans. Laura made cornbread too.”

Noticing there was two plates, each with their own plastic cover. You asked if one was for tomorrow.

“Ermmm, no I thought, well if that’s OK with you, I thought, I wondered if we could have it together? dinner? Maybe? If you want?”

“Beta, are you asking for us to have dinner together.”

“Yes.”

“We’re not going to piss off Steve if we do are we?”

“No, and I can handle that punk.” He smiled.

“Well then you better come in.”

You pulled out cutlery and place mats, setting your places to eat at the kitchen island. You asked Bucky if he wanted wine, warning him it was from Fiona’s stock and that it’d probably get him drunk very quickly. He assured you he’d be fine, mentioning something about struggling to get drunk and pulled himself a glass from the cupboard. You sat each side of the corner, every now and again Bucky’s knee grazed yours. You watched as he took a sip of the wine and laughed as you watched it kick in.

“Goddess that’s got a kick. I think every single one of my muscles just relaxed.”

“It’s after right. A couple of seconds and warmth everywhere.”

Bucky laughed and nodded. You started to eat and Bucky watched as you did a little dance and said how nice it was. He told you he’d mind link to Sam and let him know, as he’d already linked with him twice to ask.

“Well, please tell him it’s amazing and thank him, and Laura too for the bread.”

You watched him as he linked with them and his brow furrowed for a moment, before smiling.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I, well I don’t really mind link with the others much. Steve, I do, Sam sometimes. Nat if I have to, but I’ve not connected with Laura much. Probably only once or twice when we first moved here and that was because I was pretty much nonverbal. I think she was a little surprised. Hopefully I didn’t scare her.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes looked downward. Where he’d happily been eating, he now pushed the food around the plate.

You reached out and squeezed his wrist.

“Sorry doll.” He whispered.

“Bucky.” You said softly, but he didn’t look at you. Your omega shuffled forward as you smelt the sadness in his scent. Your wolf and omega sat side by side and urged you to comfort him.

“Beta?”

He side eyed you briefly, before looking back down. You rose from your seat, as Bucky let out a shuddered breath. You ran your fingers across his jaw and pulled his face towards you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Beta. Come here.”

Bucky turned as you pulled him towards you and you stood between his open legs arms wrapped around him in a fierce hug. He returned it, his head buried in your neck and arms wrapped around you, your chests pushed against each other. You felt him relax in your arms.

“You know someone told me recently that our past shapes us but it doesn’t have to change what we could have in our future.”

“Sorry.” He said mumbling into your shoulder. “I don’t know why I just blurted that out.”

You pulled back from him and he looked at you with tearful eyes.

“It’s the wine.” You said with a smile. He smiled a little as you pulled away, picking up your glass as you slid back onto the stool.

“To Fiona, and her ridiculously strong truth seeking wine.” You said, taking a sip. Bucky mimicked your actions and took a sip. He coughed a little before asking what it was made from.

“Well, Fiona probably made it so it might be best not to ask.” You laughed “But it’ll be fruit, some herbs and a few other things thrown in. You’ll sleep well tonight.”

Bucky huffed a laugh and shook his head.

“That’s very unlikely.”

“Nightmares?” You asked casually. “If it is I could help but it’s entirely up to you. Cordelia helped with mine.”

“Elektra.” Bucky said randomly.

“What about her?”

“She called to see how you were settling in. Think she knew about you and Steve.”

“How? I've not said anything. I’ve not spoken to them apart from telling Frank I got here OK.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Does it matter that they know?”

“No, I would have told them. What are you mentioning her for anyway? Oh do you have a thing for her? You know she’s mated to Matt right?”

Bucky smiled and shook his head.

“No, definitely don’t have a thing for her. We were in the same hospital briefly after the war, she had some broken ribs, a few cuts and bruises. Her nightmares were so bad we could hear her in the men’s wing. She mentioned on the phone that you helped with hers.”

“I did.” You replied, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

“Luna, can I ask you something?”

“You know you don’t need to call me that.”

“I want to.” He replied softly. You squeezed his hand again.

“Go on, what did you want to ask?”

“You, Russo and Castle. Was that a thing?”

“What!!?? How do you even know about that?”

“So there was a thing?”

“No, no, no.”

“Frank said he’d break Steve’s legs if he hurts you and that was just the start of it.”

“Oh for fucks sake. Nothing happened.”

“You smelt of them both the day you got here. You smelt of them all, but you really smelt like those two. Like you’d shared a bed with them.”

“That’s because I did.”

Bucky snatched his hand away from yours and stood from his stool at the kitchen island, almost knocking it over.

“So you lied! Our luna is a liar.” He snapped.

“Watch your tone with me Beta.” You replied firmly. He turned sharply to you. You expected him to snap again but his eyes were wide and his scent turned to panic.

“Bucky, what is it? What’s wrong?” You asked, slipping from your seat. There was something off about his scent. He gasped and started to scramble an apology.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. It’s just the thought of you with them. With them both!” He rushed out, voice full of emotion.

“Bucky. Nothing like that happened. Stop your huffing and listen. Did Billy make a pass at me? Yes. Did I act on it? Only when I was drunk and Frank put a stop to it. I made an idiot of myself, and when I say drunk, Frank had to put me in bed and he had to fetch Jess and Karen to undress me, I was such a mess. Right before Agatha, well I guess you know it was me that helped Natasha in the woods?”

Bucky nodded.

“I didn’t know where to go. I drove around for days. I asked for a sign from the goddesses and they sent me to Billy and Frank. After Agatha and a little bit before, I thought maybe it could work. They’d lost their mate and I’d been rejected by mine. Frank always took care of me. Billy well he has a certain way of showing his affection.”

“Yeah I can guess what that is.”

“But it never went further than a few hugs and a lingering kiss on the cheek. Then when Agatha happened I heard them.”

“Castle and Russo?”

“Yeah, they didn’t realise I was awake and I heard them say a few things. I know now that they’ll never have another mate. Not even with our weird closeness and friendship. Not even with me.” A stray tear ran down your face and you brushed it away sharply. Bucky pulled you into a fierce hug. You stayed like that for a moment, until a waft of Steve filled your nose and you lifted your head from Bucky’s chest.

“Sam’s told him about today.”

“Oh.”

You heard his footsteps and fought with your thoughts as your omega and wolf played around each other and bounced around in the back of your mind, excited by the fact your alpha was approaching. You pulled further away from Bucky and watched as Steve passed the window. His feet were hurried on the steps but the knock on the door still startled you.

“How’d he get passed the shield?” You whispered.

“You didn’t put it back up.”

“Shit.” You muttered. The witch side of you was pissed but you were sure that your omega and wolf were smirking. Yeah hilarious, lap it up.

“Are you going to open it?”

“No, you do it.” You whispered at Bucky.

“Not a chance doll face.”

You heard Steve sigh.

“Omega? Buck? I heard about today. I just want to check you’re okay. You don’t have to talk to me. Just let me check on you and I’ll go. Please.”

His please does sound pleading.

Fine.

And before you realised what was happening you’d reached the door, pulling it open by hand as the movement caused your robe to open and expose your legs. The cool breeze of the day swept through and over your body, pebbling your nipples. Steve purred as he took you in. His eyes drinking in every turn, grove and curl of your body. His eyes reached yours.

“Omega.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @slut4rogers @jvanilly @otterlycanadian @neocity-mel @jessjessmarvelandhp @littletomboy2

[riotwritesthings]

The Tale of the Widower (is there a fridge or not?)

WinterIron - M, 12k - Angst, Fluff, Humor, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Everyone-is-a-shield-agent!AU, Mission fic, Canon-typical violence, excessive flashbacks, assumed character death, happy ending

Bucky is one of the top agents of SHIELD. He's also a brooding badass. One of his teammates is determined to learn a little more about him.

There is quite a bit of, lets say assumed character death. Please please check on the end notes of the story here on A03 if you want to see the spoilery tags before you dive in

Fun fact I have owed this fic to the lovely and infinitely patient @saganarojanaolt for like. 4 years now. Here you go BB you probably forgot all about it haha

~~~

Bucky spins the ring that hangs from the chain around his neck and resists the urge to sigh heavily, again.

He can feel the newest agent staring at him, but he’s easy enough to ignore. Bucky’s never thrilled to be working with fresh-faced baby agents. Even if SHIELD is incredibly thorough with their training, it still makes him twitchy. He much prefers working with people that he knows can handle themselves, that he won’t have to worry about slipping up and getting themselves killed.

But apparently, he can’t expect to be teamed up with Steve for every mission, which Bucky still thinks is bullshit. He’s filed several complaints about it.

Instead he’s stuck with a different team, and at least Natasha is the one running things on this mission, he really hates taking orders from people he doesn’t know. He has worked with two of the other agents before too, Van Dyne and Natasha’s sister, and has no real complaints about either of them. But there’s also one agent Bucky has never even seen before, and he never loves working with new kids.

Especially because Bucky is well aware that he has a reputation. According to Sam and Natasha and everyone he’s something of a legend around HQ, both for his brutal efficiency and just for the fact that he’s lifelong friends with the top agent Steve Rogers. Bucky doesn’t understand it, honestly, but he quickly learned it was easier to just ignore all the stares and whispers.

He spins the ring on his necklace again, lets it clatter softly against his dog tags and runs his flesh fingers over the engraved words.

They have a long flight ahead of them, so Bucky lets his mind drift.

~~~

Bucky wakes up with a tuft of Tony’s fluffy hair stuck to his lips.

He’s still waiting for the day he finds it annoying, but three years in Bucky is still smiling widely as he carefully plucks strands of hair from his mouth. A quick glance over at the clock confirms the alarm will be going off soon anyway, so Bucky drags both of his hands down Tony’s strong back, digging his fingers into the muscle and smiling wider when Tony shifts against him. Tony lets out a sound caught somewhere between a complaint and a pleased hum as Bucky does it again, pushing his fingers up into Tony’s hair and scratching lightly at his scalp to pull a sound almost like a purr from Tony.

“Too early,” Tony grumbles, his breath warm and his arms tightening around Bucky a little more.

“It’s seven minutes before the alarm,” Bucky says with a huff of laughter.

“Too. Early.” Tony says again and throws a leg over Bucky as well, clinging to him tighter. Bucky laughs again and continues dragging his fingers through Tony’s hair.

When the alarm goes off Tony’s hand instantly snaps out to slap it silent, and Bucky tugs lightly at his hair.

“Now it’s time to wake up, sugar,” Bucky says and grins when Tony lets out another grumpy whine of complaint. Bucky tugs at his hair again and Tony finally lifts his head, pouting at Bucky with his eyes barely open, and Bucky leans in enough to press a kiss to the tip of his nose before saying, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Damn you and your early mornings,” Tony grumbles in response, blinking slowly and clearly fighting down a smile.

“That’s your alarm,” Bucky reminds him, pausing for Tony to let out another groan before adding, “For your early meeting-“

“Nooo-“

“-Which you told me to make sure you get up for,” Bucky finishes, and then laughs when Tony smashes his face into Bucky’s sternum. The movement of his chest has Tony’s head bouncing in place, wild tufts of hair tickling Bucky’s face again.

“Awful, I quit,” Tony mutters into his skin, and then hums and arches up into it when Bucky drags his palms down the warm line of Tony’s back.

“And here I set the alarm a little early,” Bucky says with a regretful sigh, his hands dipping lower, “but if you’re going to quit I might as well go start my workout. Since you’ll be home all day now.”

There’s a moment of silence while Tony processes that, and then he lifts his head again to fix Bucky with an impressive pout. “You are not going to leave me here-“

“Well if you’re quitting-“

“In this nice warm bed-“

“Then you’ll be in bed all day-“

“All alone-“

“And you’ll still be here when I get back.”

They’re both failing to fight down wide smiles by the end of the mock-argument, and Tony rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh as he says, “Fine, I’ll go to the stupid early meeting.” Then he presses a little closer, looking much more awake as he smirks and adds “If you can convince me.”

Bucky grins back, pulling Tony fully on top of him.

~~~

“Alright team, look alive,” Natasha calls, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts and back to the present, to the dull roar of the Quinjet’s engines and the quickly dying hum of conversation around him. “We’re about to hit the drop zone, ” Natasha says, “any last minute questions, now is the time.”

The jet explodes into motion around him as people grab and double-check their gear. Yelena quadruple checks her many vest pockets while the greenest agent, Lang maybe, shifts his weight anxiously and asks for the hundredth time the exact odds they’ll run into one of the random Hydra patrols, and Bucky just sighs again as he pushes himself slowly to his feet. He hadn’t done anything but sit and half-doze, so all he has to do is sling his rifle over his shoulder and he can join Natasha in looking over the map of the heavily wooded mountainside.

A heavy silence settles over the jet as they begin to descend over one of the few areas on the mountain clear enough to allow it, and before they dip below the tops of the trees Bucky barely spots the couple of trails of smoke that indicate their target. The prepared safehouse is just outside the small village, and all they need to do is make it there without running into any of the patrols.

When Natasha gives the word Bucky is the first one to hit the ground, eager to get himself to focus on the mission, not on places he’d rather be.

For a minute it actually seems like they’ll make it to the safehouse without incident, moving slowly through the trees as a tight group, but then the soft growl of an ATV engine breaks the quiet. A short whistle of alert from Yelena off to the left of the group is all the warning they get before bullets are flying at them from that direction.

Bucky all but tackles the new kid in his hurry to get them both behind the questionable cover of a tree.

“Turns out odds are about 100%,” Van Dyne calls from where she’s crouched behind another tree.

“Thanks, very helpful,” Lang mutters dryly, flailing his way upright and then wincing apologetically when he almost smacks the rifle off Bucky’s shoulder.

“Plan B,” Yelena shouts gleefully and begins returning fire.

Honestly, Bucky had expected this the second he read the brief and learned there are random, unpredictable patrols of the mountainside. So he doesn’t hesitate to drop his rifle, knowing a handgun and a large blade will do him better in this situation, and he dives in.

~~~

Bucky pulls the blanket tighter around him and stares unseeing at the shifting colors on the TV, letting the noise wash over him without registering any of it.

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here now, but it’s long enough that there’s a plate with a half-eaten ham sandwich sitting on the coffee table in front of him with a mostly empty glass of water. He doesn’t remember eating, but he must have because he’s only a little hungry. He doesn’t have the gnawing pit in his stomach that he used to be left with when he’d spend a day zoning out.

Between one long blink and the next the glass is replaced with a fresh one, the remains of the sandwich whisked away, and this is the kind of thing that used to drive Steve crazy with worry. When Bucky gets stuck in his head he tends to forget little things like eating or drinking or the outside world, sometimes for days at a time, and sure it happens less and less as the years go by, but Bucky knows he’ll always have his days.

At least he has Tony now too, who stays home with him when he can and makes sure there’s food in front of him at the appropriate times. Bucky doesn’t even have to work up the nerve to ask for help, or the energy, Tony is always there. And on the rare occasions he’s not, all Bucky has to do is send a text, even just a dumb frowny emoji, and Tony is right there or sending someone to check on him, taking care of him until he comes back to himself. Maybe it’s not the best system, but it works. And it’s a hell of a lot better than before.

Tony walks past him as he moves around the apartment, Bucky is very dimly aware of his footsteps on the carpet moving behind the back of the couch. He’s much more aware of the quick kiss Tony drops to the top of his head before shuffling along on his way, reminding Bucky that he’s there, that he’s not alone. Bucky has no idea how many times it happens, doesn’t bother to keep track, all he knows is that time passes slowly, and that Tony is never far away, that he’s waiting patiently until Bucky feels like himself again.

It’s late evening by the time he finally does, the sky almost completely dark out the window and the smell of food filling the apartment. There’s an empty plate in front of him and a distinct lack of the once-familiar pit of hunger in his stomach, so apparently he ate again. Despite not doing anything all day he’s exhausted, and he could really use a trip to the bathroom, but the first thing Bucky does is head for the kitchen, where he can hear the rapid tapping of Tony’s fingers against a keyboard.

It looks like Tony is deeply absorbed in whatever he’s doing, his coffee cup sitting mostly full and forgotten beside him, and Bucky doesn’t want to disturb him. He’s sure Tony has already spent plenty of time worrying about him today, but he can’t do nothing, so he leans in enough to press a light kiss to the top of Tony’s head before leaving the kitchen.

He’s barely made it halfway to the bedroom before Tony is chasing after him, colliding with his back and winding his arms around Bucky’s waist, and Bucky smiles.

~~~

Night has well and truly fallen by the time they reach the safe house, and Hope adjusts Yelena’s arm over her shoulders as they wait for Natasha and Barnes to do a quick sweep of the tiny building. Scott is trying to downplay the bullet graze on his arm, but he also can’t seem to stop poking at it, and Hope fights down all but the tiniest grin as she watches him.

“We’re clear,” Natasha says, poking her head out of the door, “everyone in.”

“Yay, clubhouse,” Yelena says dryly, slinging her other arm over Natasha’s shoulders and together she and Hope get Yelena into the small cabin and dropped into the armchair.

Scott finds the first aid kit and Hope volunteers to help him patch up his arm, all too happy to leave bandaging Yelena’s leg to her sister. Scott chatters through the whole thing, clearly still hopped up on adrenaline, only to snap his mouth shut the second Barnes returns from securing the perimeter.

“So we definitely missed our first window,” Natasha says once everyone is back in the tiny main room.

Scott quickly turns his gaze in her direction, clearly eager to pretend that’s the reason he fell silent, and Hope can’t completely fight down a snort of laughter. When Scott looks at her with a pout Hope just grins and tugs the bandage around his arm tight. Scott yelps and it kind of looks like he’s planning on kicking her before Natasha clears her throat to pull their attention back.

“Our next window is in nine hours,” Natasha reminds them, “assuming that the missing patrol isn’t noticed before then.”

“Did you have to add that?” Yelena demands, wrinkling her nose and fidgeting as Natasha applies butterfly bandages to her shin, "we all know." She snaps her mouth shut when Natasha glares at her, smiling innocently instead.

“So we should get some rest while we can,” Natasha finishes like she hadn’t been interrupted and then looks over at Barnes, who has already settled himself in the hall between the tiny living room and the singular door. “You’ve got first watch, I’m guessing?”

Barnes nods silently and settles his rifle across his lap, checking it over before he begins moving his gaze constantly around the safe house. Natasha nods back and pulls out a communicator to provide an update to HQ, and Hope returns her attention to finishing up with Scott’s arm. At one point she starts to ask if the bandage is too tight, but finds that Scott’s attention is still fixed on Barnes.

The man still has one hand on his rifle, clearly ready to jump into action, but with his other hand he’s once again spinning the gold ring that hangs beside his dog tags. The curiosity on Scott’s face is painfully obvious as he watches Barnes, and Hope just knows he’s going to ask.

So it seems only fair that she warns him.

“Don’t ask,” she says quietly and then resists the urge to sigh when Scott visibly startles a little, has to remind herself that everyone is jumpy on their first mission. “I know you’re curious,” she says, cutting a quick look over at Barnes, “but trust me, just leave him be.”

Scott has his mouth open, no doubt to ask why, but Hope yanks the bandage around his arm tighter to cut him off and she can only hope he actually lets it go. She doesn’t need to hear the tragic ode to Barnes’ late husband again, she’s already made that mistake and it really brought down the mood of the whole mission.

“I think you’ll probably live,” Hope declares with a grin when Scott turns to her with an offended look, firmly taping down the bandage and hoping he’ll let it go.

“If everyone is patched up we should try to get some sleep,” Natasha says, dropping to the floor in front of the armchair and leaning back against it.

“What, not even a bedtime story?” Yelena asks with a grin and then squawks when Natasha blindly reaches back to swat at her.

“Alright, scoot,” Hope says, flapping her hands at Scott, “I’ve got second watch and I deserve the couch.”

Scott pouts but doesn’t argue, probably scared that she’ll tighten his bandage again. Hope makes herself as comfortable as possible on the lumpy couch and it’s never easy to fall asleep in strange safe houses, but Hope has gotten pretty good at ignoring strange smells and the sounds of an entire team settling in around her.

By the time Barnes nudges her awake for her turn at watch a couple of hours later Hope has managed some halfway decent sleep, but she’s already looking forward to this mission being done with. She has to step carefully over Scott’s sprawled limbs to climb off the couch and actually take up the post by the door, and she sees Barnes shoot Scott a brief look before bypassing the couch entirely and making himself relatively comfortable in the far corner of the room.

She’s pretty sure Barnes never actually sleeps during other people’s watches, but it’s also never slowed him down so no one’s said anything yet, and Hope certainly isn’t going to be the one to start.

After fighting down a single yawn she settles in, listening for any signs of life outside the tiny cabin and in the back of her mind debating the best way to wake Yelena up for her shift without getting stabbed. It looks like Yelena has already slid halfway out of the armchair she fell asleep curled up in, maybe Hope will get lucky and Yelena will wake herself up by landing on the ground and/or Natasha before then.

~~~

Tony muffles a yawn into his shoulder for the second time in ten minutes and Bucky’s stomach twists with guilt. He knows better by now than to suggest Tony head to bed without him though, not when they both know that Bucky won’t be going back to sleep for at least a couple hours, if he manages it at all tonight.

It doesn’t happen nearly as often as it used to, but Bucky knows he’ll never fully escape the nightmares that follow him. There was a time when he was first rescued from Hydra and freshly released from the hospital with a shiny new metal limb, that Bucky was certain he’d never get a good night’s sleep again. He was sure that every single time he closed his eyes he’d be seeing the same damn things, death and fear and pain. But with time, and the SHIELD-assigned therapist, the nightmares had come less and less often.

And now he has Tony, who shakes him awake before he can sink too deeply into the horrors, who wordlessly moves to the couch with him and puts a mindless comedy on the TV. Bucky doesn’t even need to ask, not since the first month they were dating and he’d haltingly admitted that yes he’d like some company when the nightmares keep him up, but he’d never expect it. That’s all Tony had needed to hear, and now whenever Bucky gives up on sleep and rolls out of bed Tony is right behind him. All Bucky has to do is drop his heavy bones onto the couch and Tony is right there, piling them both with blankets and cracking dumb jokes to try and coax a smile onto Bucky’s face, staying pressed in close to his side warm and familiar, reminding him that he’s not alone.

Bucky still doesn’t know how he got so goddamn lucky, but he must have done something amazing in a past life because he certainly doesn’t deserve Tony in this one.

Tony muffles another yawn and then looks over at him, like he can feel Bucky watching him. Tony raises an eyebrow at him, just daring Bucky to tell him to go to bed, but Bucky knows better. So instead he smiles, small but real, and leans over to press a lingering kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“Thank you, baby,” Bucky breathes out, and then kisses him silent when Tony makes a soft sound like he’s about to put up his usual protest that it’s nothing. “Thanks for staying up with me when you can,” he says, lips still brushing against Tony’s with every word. He pulls back enough to meet Tony’s eye and slides his fingers up into Tony’s hair to keep him close. “I know you don’t wanna hear that you don’t have t’ stay up with me,” Bucky says with a small grin, “but you don’t. An’ it means the world to me that you do, sweetheart. Makes me feel like all th’ nightmares might be worth it, if all that shit brought me to you.”

All the air escapes Tony in a hard rush, his mouth hanging open and his eyes bright. Bucky is feeling pretty misty himself, and he thinks they can both blame the late hour but the truth is that thinking about how damn much he loves Tony always makes him emotional.

“Of- Of course,” Tony finally croaks out, his voice thick with emotion, “I- of course, honey.” He leans in to kiss Bucky again, lips moving together slow and sweet while his fingers tangle in the blanket that’s draped over Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky is all too happy to kiss him back, melting into it and eagerly letting himself forget everything that’s not the taste of honey and green tea on Tony’s lips, the gentle drag of Tony’s fingers along his jaw. By the time Tony pulls away Bucky has nearly forgotten their entire conversation, much more interested in pressing another kiss to the tip of Tony’s nose.

“Anytime,” Tony says softly, like a promise, and then plants a kiss on the corner of Bucky’s lips while he’s distracted losing his breath, “always.”

~~~

When the time comes to head out to the base Bucky is more than ready.

He’s already feeling a little stir-crazy from being cooped up in the tiny safe house, and it’s only been a day. It doesn’t matter how many long missions he’s been on now, he’s never been a big fan of being away from home that long. And ever since the whole brain-washing fiasco, a tiny part of him is worried that if he’s away from familiar surroundings for too long he’ll end up losing himself again.

Plus, the near-constant looks that Lang has been shooting at him are kind of putting him on edge. They’re different than the usual looks of vaguely fearful awe that the new agents usually give him, but Bucky can’t figure out what it is about. And he doesn’t want to be tempted to ask, in case he has to fend off awkward hero-worship that he doesn’t deserve and ends up regretting it.

He’d much rather be sneaking into a heavily-armed enemy base, at least that’s familiar.

They make it to one of the side entrances of the base without running into another patrol, and it’s immediately obvious that the one they took out yesterday hasn’t been missed yet.

No one is expecting them, there are only a few guards posted outside and one of them actually squeals in surprise when Yelena drops out of a tree on him. The rest of their ambush kicks off without a hitch, the newer agents heading inside while Bucky, Natasha, and Yelena split off to take care of any other guards around the perimeter of the complex.

And if Bucky is a little more vindictive than he needs to be, well it’s because he spent the whole morning making himself miserable. He just couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he misses Tony’s laugh, the way Tony’s smile lights up his entire face. These particular Hydra goons aren’t the reason Bucky would do just about anything to hear the sound of his husband’s voice again, but he can still take his frustration out on them.

Plus, it’s not like Bucky doesn’t have his own, very personal grudge against Hydra as a whole. He thinks he’s justified in a little extra aggression.

It doesn’t help though, he’s still frustrated and miserable by the time they actually make it into the base and he’s honestly a little disappointed that Van Dyne and Lang get the evacuation triggered without any trouble. He, Natasha, and Yelena slip easily into a side hallway where they won’t be seen by all the fleeing scientists and Bucky is kind of hoping they will be found, just so he can keep fighting. He’s not stupid enough to do something to draw attention to them, he would never put his team at risk, but he can dream. He’d been looking forward to more of a fight.

To his selfish disappointment, the plan continues going perfectly.

They regroup with Van Dyne and Lang in the main control room of the base, and Bucky sets up in one of the doorways to watch hopefully for any stragglers of the evacuation. Yelena watches the other door, looking just as hopeful for more action, and the rest of the team gets to work uploading all of the files to SHIELD’s systems.

Using the devices that Tony designed, Bucky can’t stop himself from thinking and then sighs again.

~~~

The sound of the front door opening echoes through the apartment and Bucky is glad that he’s in the kitchen. It means he’s out of sight of the entryway, and Tony can’t actually see the way Bucky perks up like a lonely house pet.

It’s just that he hasn’t actually seen Tony awake in days, and that is after the mission that had Bucky away for a week and a half. Bucky has missed him, dammit, and while he’s sure everyone is well aware of it, that doesn’t mean Tony needs to know Bucky has been moping around the kitchen for the past ten minutes while he waits.

“Honey, I’m home,” Tony calls, laughter in his voice, and it makes Bucky smile because he knows Tony still hasn’t gotten used to the novelty of having someone to come home to. He knows it’s not a thing Tony ever expected to have, that Tony is just as stunned to have found each other as he is, and a part of Bucky hopes the novelty never wears off.

“Welcome home,” Bucky calls back, and within seconds Tony appears in the doorway.

“Something smells amazing,” Tony says, moving towards Bucky even as his gaze lands firmly on the stove.

“That would be dinner,” Bucks says with a laugh, holding his arms open and then wrapping them around Tony as soon as he steps in close enough. "My dinner, which I have eaten all of."

Tony groans unhappily into his chest, pinching at his side, and Bucky laughs again as he uses his own arms to trap Tony’s at his sides.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was delicious,” Bucky says around a wide grin and Tony groans louder.

“Awful,” Tony grumbles into his chest, “and after I rushed home to see you.” He tips his head up to fix Bucky with a pout that is clearly about to crack into a wide smile, and then huffs when Bucky responds by smacking a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Of course I made you dinner,” Bucky says with a laugh, and the wide smile that immediately splits Tony’s face makes Bucky’s heart jump in his chest.

“Smells like tomato sauce,” Tony says, spinning both of them in place slowly until he can peek over Bucky’s shoulder at the pot sitting on the stove.

“I tried my hand at makin’ the sauce from scratch,” Bucky says, grinning at the way Tony pouts when Bucky spins him back out of view of the stove, “I think it came out okay, but you’ll have to be th’ judge.”

Tony hums happily, casting one more look at the stove before returning his attention to Bucky. "Did I ever tell you you’re the best husband I’ve ever had?” he asks, smiling widely and leaning more heavily against Bucky.

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” Bucky says with a fond roll of his eyes even as he wraps his arms more firmly around Tony, making sure he doesn’t lose his balance.

"The only husband I’ve had so far," Tony corrects him with a cheeky grin, and then squawks when Bucky bites at the tip of his nose.

Tony makes ridiculous and adorable considering noises when it comes time to try the sauce, taking so long to give his judgment that Bucky threatens to actually eat all the food himself, but then Tony kisses him again and declares it perfect. It was already pretty late when Tony finally made it home, and it’s even later when they finish eating, but Tony gets right to doing the dishes despite Bucky trying to argue that they can leave it until morning, insisting that its only four and refusing to let Bucky help.

So instead Bucky just watches him fondly and occasionally chimes in with helpful advice about where the Tupperware is. He knows it was a joke, no different than any of the other goofy jokes they’ve made over the course of their relationship, but that hasn’t stopped the thought from lingering in Bucky’s mind all through dinner. Because it’s not like it’s not at least a little likely, with the life he leads, and as much as he doesn’t want to know he also can’t stop thinking about it.

“Hey baby,” Bucky says and waits until Tony hums curiously and glances up from the sink at him. "If somethin’ happens to me on a mission or anythin’-“ he starts and then has to pause for the distressed noise Tony lets out, turning to face him fully, “would you actually, ya know, move on, get remarried, all that?”

Tony just stares at him for a second, his mouth opening and closing before he abruptly says, "Yes, I’d marry Steve.”

“I’m divorcing you right now,” Bucky says instantly, and then dodges dramatically out of his chair when Tony flicks soap at him.

“You’re the one who asked,” Tony says with a wide grin as he reloads his hands with bubbles, “you were never supposed to know about my secret backup husband.”

“And what does Sam have to say about your plan to steal his man?” Bucky asks, opening one of the cabinets just in time to take cover behind it as Tony flails made soap at him.

"Clearly in this scenario, you and Sam have killed each other in some increasingly intense physical contest," Tony says, like it should be obvious.

“Clearly,” Bucky agrees and gets so distracted laughing that Tony manages to get him right in the chest and face with flicked bubbles.

Tony’s cheer of victory turns into a squeaking noise of protest when Bucky swoops in and wraps both arm around him, letting soapy water soak into both of them. After a second of half-hearted attempts to wiggle free Tony wraps around him in return, smiling widely.

“I wouldn’ mind, if you did,” Bucky has to say even though he’s not sure why. He just can’t let it go.

"Well of course not, you’d be dead," Tony says with a roll of his eyes, but the corners of his lips are starting to twitch down.

“I just want you to be happy and loved, sweet thing,” he insists as he leans forward just enough to let their foreheads bump together, “you deserve that.”

“As long as it’s not with Steve."

“As long as it’s not with Steve,” Bucky agrees shamelessly.

Even from this close, Bucky can see the way Tony’s big brown eyes go sad as he says, “I’m not making any promises. If anything happens to you-” he has to pause to swallow thickly, his eyes glassy, and Bucky kind of regrets even bringing it up before Tony smiles again, only a little strained. “I’m no spring chicken, after all,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and then raises his voice a little when Bucky tries to protest that point, "hush, honey. What I’m trying to say is that, getting over you? I don’t know, I think that would take the rest of my life.”

Bucky just has to kiss him after that, ignoring the cooling water on their shirts in favor of burying his fingers in Tony’s hair and pulling him closer.

If Tony intends to ask Bucky the same question he never gets the chance, too busy gasping and tugging at his clothes as Bucky thoroughly distracts him from the dishes. It saves Bucky from admitting that he’s a goddamn hypocrite, that he can’t imagine moving on from Tony, doesn’t even want to try.

~~~

“Hey Sarge-“

“Sarge?” Barnes interrupts and it is impossible to tell if his tone is confused, or annoyed, or what.

“Isn’t that…“ Scott stutters, and he’s seriously rethinking taking Hope’s advice, ”that’s what- uh, Wilson calls you?”

“Yes,” Barnes says slowly, “as an insult.”

Scott splutters for a second, because he had not seen that coming and damnit, Sam totally set him up. Scott is going to have to get him for that when they get back to base. He seriously considers just walking away from the conversation, giving up on making friends, but no, he is determined. It certainly doesn’t look like Barnes has any intention of carrying any conversational weight though, so Scott casts around desperately for another opener before his eyes land on the ring Barnes is once again spinning on his dog tag chain.

“I never heard that you’re married,” Scott says hopefully, because who doesn’t have a lot to say about their spouse one way or another? Barnes abruptly drops the ring, like he hadn’t even realized he was fiddling with it, and sure, Scott could take that as a sign to give up, but instead he smiles encouragingly and tries to sound friendly as he asks, “Do they work at SHIELD too? Or civilian?”

“SHIELD,” Barnes replies slowly and Scott thinks that’s going to be the end of it, but Barnes surprises him by continuing. “He’s- we met when he was working in R&D,” Barnes says, the words halting and soft like he’s surprising himself too, “he- the equally crazy hours made it easier, somehow.”

Scott nods, because he can definitely see that. The hours of a field agent are wild, ever-changing, and can be the death of nearly any relationship. He doesn’t know much about the hours in the R&D department, but he has heard how demanding the director can be and that probably leads to quite a few missed dates too.

“And he…” Scott says slowly, trying to figure out how to put it delicately, “he uh, doesn’t anymore?”

Barnes’ flat expression darkens a little, and for a moment Scott doesn’t think he’s going to answer before he simply grits out, “No.”

Scott can feel his mouth working uselessly as he tries to figure out what the hell to say now, and no wonder Hope told him not to ask. Before he can put his foot any further into his mouth, Barnes surprises him by speaking up again without prompting.

“He used to say-“ Barnes starts and then cuts himself off, lost in thought. He lifts one hand towards his ring again before apparently catching himself and clenches his fist on top of his thigh instead, looking back up at Scott with a tiny, sad smile. “He’s the reason I’m still here,” he says simply.

Scott isn’t sure if he means here at SHIELD, trying to save the world, or here on the planet, and he doesn’t ask because he’s not sure he wants to know. “I’m here for my daughter,” he says instead, because even he does occasionally know when he’s asked enough questions.

Barnes makes the grave mistake of quirking an eyebrow at him, so Scott happily seizes the hint of an opening. He launches into a full-blown rant about how amazing his daughter is, that her favorite movie right now is Coraline, and that she’s the reason he knew he had to get his life together after prison, had to do something with himself that would make her proud.

The other man doesn’t say anything while Scott recounts the tale of the director recruiting him right out of Baskin Robins, but he also doesn’t walk away or tell Scott to shut up, so as far as Scott is concerned they’ve bonded big time

He’s just getting into explaining the complicated game Cassie came up with and has been trying to teach him, which is both very similar to and nothing like tag, when he’s cut off by Romanov finishing her call back to base and turning to address the group again.

“The director wants us to make sure we neutralize those weapons on our way out,” she reports and then points a finger at Barnes when he opens his mouth, possibly to argue. “Do not,” she says sternly, and to Scott’s slight surprise Barnes does actually snap his mouth shut.

He certainly doesn’t look happy about it though.

~~~

“Our reservation is in fifteen minutes,” Bucky calls and he can’t completely keep the amusement out of his voice, because usually he’s the one running around at the last minute, fussing with his outfit and making them late.

“I’m almost ready,” Tony calls back, for the fifth time, and then finally appears from the bedroom, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket despite the fact that as far as Bucky can tell they’re already perfect. “Almost ready,” Tony says again and at this point it sounds like he’s talking to himself more than anything, patting at his pockets and glancing over at Bucky before just as quickly darting his eyes away.

It is without a doubt the most nervous Bucky has ever seen him, including the night before they found out if Tony got the promotion to head of R&D. As Tony starts pacing back and forth in front of the couch, looking seconds from running his fingers through his carefully styled hair, Bucky starts to worry that someone is dying. So he crosses the apartment and puts himself right in Tony’s path, then gently grabs Tony by the hips to reel him in when Tony moves to step around him.

“What’s got you so wound up, sugar?” Bucky asks, careful not to wrinkle Tony’s suit as he wraps his arms around him, because he’s learned better by now.

“I’m not- what are you talking about?” Tony stutters out, twitching in place as his eyes continue darting around the room.

“Babydoll,” Bucky says patiently, “you weren’t even this worked up on our first anniversary, and I had to talk you out of buyin’ me an entire flower shop-“

“I was going to buy you half a flower shop at most-“

“So what it is this time,” Bucky asks with a grin, “you finally go through with buyin’ me that pony?”

“No, because we’ve determined you wouldn’t appreciate the pony,” Tony protests weakly but at least stops shifting his weight in place and looks at Bucky, even if it is to pout.

“I’m just gonna keep guessin’ until you give in an’ tell me,” Bucky points out, and when Tony tries to deny it again he just says, “c’mon baby, you know I’m gonna figure it out, so unless you’re plannin’ on proposin’ or something-“

Bucky’s voice trails off as Tony’s face twitches and he goes abruptly, deathly still against him.

For three long seconds, they just stare at each other as Tony tries his hardest to keep his expression blank and Bucky feels his own eyes go wide, his mouth falling open. He’d been joking, but he knows Tony well enough to easily read the way Tony’s face twitches as his eyes continue darting evasively around the room.

“I uh- just kidding,” Bucky says quickly, topping it off with a disjointed laugh, and then feels worse when Tony’s expression begins to morph into a pout. “Nevermind, not that,” Bucky says quickly, desperately trying to think of any other guesses so he can change the subject, ”you- you um, bought a car?“

Tony continues to stare at him for a second, expression still caught somewhere between carefully blank and a pout, and then he finally huffs out a soft laugh. The one chuckle becomes another, and then Tony is full-on laughing, all the gorgeous smile lines on his face deepening with it. Bucky can only smile back, shrugging sheepishly, and then tightening his hold when Tony leans forward to rest his forehead against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky’s breath catches in his throat as Tony stands up straight again and reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small velvet box. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t blink as he watches Tony turn the box over a couple of times in his hands, giving away his nerves, and when Tony clears his throat Bucky’s gaze snaps back up to his face.

“Since you apparently know me so well,“ Tony says with a roll of his eyes that’s completely undercut by the fond smile on his face, ”and since you, for some reason, still want to hang around, and because you make me deliriously happy even when you’re driving me crazy, do you want to, you know…” He trails off, gaze dropping as he spins the small box between his hands, and then he takes a final fortifying breath and looks back up at Bucky with a wide, hopeful grin. “Do you want to be legally obligated to hang out with me for the rest of our lives?”

The wording startles a laugh out of Bucky, even if the sound does come out choked with emotion. “Well, when you make it sound so magical,” Bucky says, not even trying to hide the lump caught in his throat. Apparently Tony doesn’t consider that a good enough answer and starts to pout again, but he doesn’t get further than barely poking his lower lip out before Bucky is hurrying to add, “Yes, obviously yes.”

Immediately Tony is smiling widely again, and he has his mouth open to no-doubt continue teasing him so Bucky reels him in and kisses him quiet.

They’re late for their reservation, but neither of them mind.

~~~

Everything in the base goes so well that they’re almost caught off guard by the ambush waiting for them when they leave.

Some of the fleeing guards must have flagged down one of the patrols on the way out, but they’re goddamn professionals and within seconds Natasha, Van Dyne, and Lang are falling back to cover them while Bucky and Yelena do what they’re best at. Focus on the enemy.

Bucky hears but doesn’t process the orders that Natasha is barking at at the two green agents, because they’re not directed at him. All he has to worry about is the Hydra goons in front of him, and he is all too happy to do that.

He does catch it though when Van Dyne nearly shouts over the comms.

”Distraction coming in hot!” She says gleefully, and it quickly becomes obvious why when Bucky turns his head.

He ducks behind a thick tree as an SUV goes roaring past, flames and black smoke pouring from the open windows and beneath the hood. Bucky doesn’t need to look again to know that it’s headed right for the biggest group of Hydra agents, and the cut-off screams followed by a loud crash are incredibly satisfying.

“Escape vehicle acquired,” Scott says seconds before Bucky hears another engine roaring towards him, “everyone hop on board and be ready to show your tickets to the conductor!”

When he peeks out around his cover Bucky sees a jeep careening between the sparse trees, Lang at the wheel and Van Dyne laying down covering fire from where she’s standing in the passenger seat. Bucky slings his rifle over his shoulder to swap it out for his pistol as the jeep gets closer, and when it goes roaring past he grabs one of the support bars with his metal hand.

He’s instantly swept away, and as he swings himself up into the back of the jeep he nearly crashes into Natasha doing the same thing. She shoves one hand at him, so Bucky grabs her wrist without question and then anchors her as she leans most of the way out of the vehicle to haul Yelena up as well.

“We’re all in, go go!” Natasha shouts as she and Yelena tumble in.

They momentarily squash Bucky against the back of the driver’s seat before Lang hits the gas and the three of them slide towards the back of the jeep. Bucky grabs one of the support beams to stop them, grunting as someone’s knee digs into his stomach. In almost frightening synchronicity Yelena and Natasha shove themselves upright and throw grenades back towards the few Hydra agents stupid enough to try to follow them.

The explosion rocks the jeep even as they speed away from it, and Lang cheers while Natasha and Yelena flash each other matching wide grins. Bucky rolls his eyes and shoves Yelena’s elbow away from his shoulder, settling in for the ride.

They get to the next safe house in better time than expected, because stealing a jeep and driving like hell until the half-empty gas tank ran dry wasn’t in the plan. From there it’s a short walk to their evac location, and between keeping an eye out around them Bucky glances at his watch to confirm it’ll be hours before pickup.

It’s really too bad, he hates waiting for pickup at the end of a mission.

Bucky’s not impressed by the deserted, crumbling warehouse waiting for them, but Sam had done the recon for this mission and he’d sworn up and down that the center of the building is stable. To Bucky’s annoyance, Sam is right. The center of the sprawling warehouse still has a roof, and the maze of half-collapsed walls are about as secure as they can ask for in the middle of enemy territory.

After he’s checked the place over thouroughly, Bucky seats himself near the only entrance and prepares to wait.

The rest of the team start making themselves comfortable as well, and Bucky is half expecting it when Lang plops down beside him, apparently determined to make friends. The guy actually reminds him a little of Steve, like an overeager golden retriever with just a little more enthusiasm than sense when it comes to people.

He’s not sure what to make of the look Lang is fixing on him, some weird mix of pity and sincerity, and maybe Bucky should lean into his scary reputation, it would probably save him from a lot of weird conversations.

“I just wanted to say,” Lang starts, his voice low and serious and Bucky has to resist the urge to sigh heavily, “if you wanted to- to talk about your husband anytime, you know, I’m a great listener.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks before he can stop himself, one eyebrow raised, and for a second Lang just stares at him, like he’s stunned that Bucky actually responded.

“Anything you want!” Lang says quickly, “more about how you met, or- I don’t know, anything."

It’s not the usual way people try to start conversations with him, Bucky has to give him that at least, and he supposes it’s slightly better than being interrogated about Steve. It does make sense that people would be curious about Tony too, and who else are they going to ask?

“You just wanna hear about the time he almost blew up all of HQ,” Bucky says knowingly and he can feel the tiniest of smiles pulling at his mouth that gets wider when Lang’s eyes go wide with obvious surprise.

“What?” Land demands, his voice cracking, and it pulls the attention of everyone else in the warehouse, “he- how did- what?”

A tiny grin tugs at Bucky’s lips, because he thought everyone knew this story by now. “Well, he wasn’t a big fan of yearly reviews,” Bucky starts, and his grin dims a little as he adds, “still isn’t, I guess.” Scott’s mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but then he closes it and simply nods for Bucky to continue. Bucky is more than a little curious what that’s about, but decides to just keep going because despite everything else he does enjoy telling this story, and more specifically watching people’s faces during it. “An’ he thought it would be a good idea to get really ahead to impress the higher-ups…”

As expected Lang’s face twists into all the familiar expressions of shock and horror as Bucky goes through the story. Over Lang’s shoulder, Bucky can see Natasha smiling wistfully to herself, although he’s not sure what to make of the occasional looks Van Dyne keeps shooting him, something that might be understanding. He’s not sure what the hell that’s about, but by the time he reaches the explosive end of the story Bucky is surprised to find that he’s a little less miserable.

Once the laughter dies down Natasha jumps in, and she and Lang manage to weasel a couple more stories out of him. Considering he spends most of his time thinking about Tony one way or another, Bucky has to admit it’s not the worst way to kill time until their evac shows up.

~~~

“So when are you finally going to ask Tony out?” Steve asks, completely out of the blue, and Bucky nearly chokes on the large swig he just took from his water bottle.

“I’m… working on it,” Bucky grumbles when he gets his breath back, and Steve gives him a skeptical look.

“Are you, though?” Steve asks, one eyebrow raised. He may not be saying out loud that the Bucky from before wouldn’t have dreamed of taking three months to work up the nerve to ask someone out, but his eyebrow says plenty.

And sure before, Bucky probably would have asked Tony out within a couple of hours of meeting him, the first time he made a dumb joke and Tony laughed in the way that made his whole face scrunch up, but that was before. Before Hydra, before the capture, before the scars and constant nightmares. These days Bucky counts himself lucky if he can even think about dating. He’d been thinking about it a lot more lately though, thinking about Tony, and Bucky is this close to asking him out, if only so he can tell himself that he tried. Any day now, he’ll actually do it.

“I will,” Bucky insists, a little more firmly, and elbows Steve when he makes another skeptical noise.

“Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Hmm?” Steve hums innocently, then lifts his hand in a wave as he says, “because he’s right over there.”

Sure enough, Tony is standing nearby talking to a couple of other R&D guys, and at Steve’s wave he heads over toward them.

“Hey, just the super soldiers I was hoping to run into,” Tony says in greeting as he approaches and Bucky is going to strangle Steve if he says anything.

He tries to shoot a look at Steve that will convey that message, but Steve just gives him a bright grin before turning to Tony and saying, “Sorry to disappoint, I actually have to run off so I’ll leave you with your favorite super soldier.”

With that Steve slaps him on the shoulder and walks away before Bucky can do more than croak out, “Help.”

“Is that a specific request, or general existential crisis?” Tony asks, looking caught somewhere between laughter and confusion.

Bucky clears his throat and tries again, saying, “Hey Tony, what can I do for you?”

Tony bites his lip for a second, which is unfairly distracting, and then asks, “How do you feel about burgers and shakes?”

“Love ‘em,” Bucky says instantly and then asks, “Wait, why?”

Because he still hasn’t gotten a straight answer on why the R&D lab was filled with popcorn that one day, or why everyone was forbidden from eating any of it, but he’s been suspicious of any food that comes from that wing of the building ever since.

Tony’s face starts to fall, but before Bucky can backtrack and insist that he loves radioactive burgers Tony’s eyes go wide with realization and he laughs. “This is nothing like the popcorn incident,” Tony promises, and then his smile begins to wobble as he says, “I was just wondering if you wanted to- um, get some burgers and shakes. With me. Like, as a date.”

Bucky can only blink for a second, making sure he heard that right and for some reason stupidly wondering if he can convince Steve the date was his idea. Tony just continues smiling at him hopefully, apparently familiar with what it looks like when Bucky’s brain needs to completely reboot and fuck Bucky is so crazy about him, why hasn’t he said yes yet?!

“Yes,” Bucky finally blurts, a little louder than he intended, then clears his throat and says, “yeah, that sounds- that would be great.”

Tony’s smile grows until it takes up his entire face, making his eyes shine, and Bucky’s heart flips over itself in his chest.

~~~

The flight home is blissfully uneventful after the noise and explosions of the end of the mission, and Hope even manages to sneak a small nap slumped down low in one of the seats.

She wakes up to find the quinjet relatively quiet around her, as much as a jet flying through the upper atmosphere can be, anyway. Scott, Natasha, and Yelena are near the front of the jet and Barnes is, of course, off in the other far corner with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. After checking her phone to see that they’re about an hour away from HQ, Hope decides against going back to sleep and instead scoots over to join the rest of the team near the front of the Quinjet.

Yelena appears to be absorbed in sharpening one of her many knives while Scott and Natasha hold a hushed conversation, and it doesn’t take long to catch on that they’re talking about Barnes.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say while on a mission,” Natasha is saying thoughtfully, shooting a quick look over at Barnes, “ever.”

“I feel like I deserve some kind of award for that,” Scott says proudly, turning to flash his smug grin at Hope as he adds, “And you told me to leave it alone."

“I said that it would be a real downer,” Hope replies, rolling her eyes, “and it was.”

Scott’s face twitches in the way it does when he’s trying to avoid admitting that she’s right, and then he deflates the tiniest bit. “I mean, it was a little,” he says, “but it was also kind of sweet, you know? He clearly loved the guy-“

“He still talks about him like he’s alive!” Hope hisses, being sure to keep her voice down.

“It’s sweet,” Scott insists stubbornly.

“How do I keep forgetting, you’re a romantic,” Hope says with a sigh, leaning back in her chair.

Across from them Natasha is almost managing to fight down a smile, which Hope assumes is related to her also judging Scott for being such a sap. There is something that’s been bugging Hope for a while now though, and when Natasha’s gaze shifts over to her she sees her chance.

“What happened to Barnes’ husband, anyways?” She finally has to ask, and it’s almost funny how quickly Scott perks up, clearly wanting to know the answer, too.

Natasha’s face twitches again, and her gaze flashes over to Barnes for a split second before she quietly says, “We don’t talk about that.”

Scott’s face falls, but Hope is a little more interested in the way Yelena’s attention finally jerks up from her knife. Hope isn’t sure what the expression on her face is supposed to be, but when Yelena opens her mouth Natasha cuts her off with a quick wave of her hand.

“We don’t talk about it,” Natasha repeats shortly, and Hope doesn’t even have a chance to track all of the emotions that cross Yelena’s face before she ducks her head, firmly turning her attention back to her knife and whetstone.

At this point Hope needs to know, but she’s more than a little intimidated by Natasha so she keeps her mouth shut. For a second it looks like Scott is going to ask anyway, and Hope is kind of hoping that he will, but then he glances over at Barnes as well and nods. Trust the man to finally learn some tact when Hope is practically dying of curiosity.

Just as the relative silence in the jet starts to get awkward, Yelena clears her throat and says, “So about this debrief. Can we do it in the cafe?”

“Yes,” Scott chimes in instantly, "I vote for that, debrief with food. I am starving."

“No,” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll never get you two to focus.”

“I focus better with food,” Yelena says, and Natasha lets out a disbelieving snort.

“And I’d like to eat something that doesn’t come from the SHIELD cafe for once,” Hope has to jump in, “I vote debrief, and then we go eat whatever we want.”

“This isn’t a democracy, why are you all voting?” Natasha demands, but it looks a lot like she’s fighting down a smile as Yelena starts trying to make another point.

Despite all of Natasha’s protests, the discussion continues the rest of the flight back to headquarters.

~~~

Bucky is just now realizing it, but Tony isn’t usually home when Bucky is preparing to leave for a mission. Usually Tony is caught up in his own projects and debriefs and mountains of paperwork, and Bucky will simply text him when he leaves, leaving his phone on just long enough to get Tony’s ‘stay safe’ response.

This time though, Tony is here. He’s off today to try and catch up from his insane jet lag, sprawled out on the couch with his laptop. The screen is dark as he just watches Bucky move around the apartment, collecting his favorite knives and grabbing an extra pair of socks.

“Alright, I’m out,” Bucky says once he’s made sure he has everything he needs and then delayed a little more, finally accepting that he can’t put it off anymore. He can’t help a soft laugh at the look on Tony’s face, so clearly trying not to pout and mope and Bucky can almost ignore the fact that he doesn’t want to leave either. “Quit poutin’ and come gimme a kiss,” Bucky says, securing his duffle bag over his shoulder a little more so he can hold his arms out expectantly.

Tony nearly drops his laptop in his hurry to push himself to his feet and cross the room, all but colliding with Bucky and wrapping around him tightly. He buries his face in the curve of Bucky’s throat, and Bucky can just barely feel the tremble of Tony’s hands where they fist in the back of his shirt.

“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me,” Bucky says and then can’t help a grin when Tony snorts skeptically against his neck.

“Well I already miss you, so what are you gonna do now?” Tony grumbles into his skin and Bucky shrugs as much as he can without dislodging his arms from around Tony.

“Guess I’ll have t’ quit,” Bucky says carelessly, and grins when Tony clearly has to fight down laughter.

“Perfect, just stay home with me. I’ll quit too. We can both stay home all day forever.”

“One of us has to work,” Bucky argues, “someone’s gotta pay these bills and I wannna be the kept man.”

“No fair, I wanna be the trophy husband.”

“Too bad, I called it,” Bucky says, punctuating that by planting a smacking kiss on top of Tony’s head.

Tony whines and then sighs, finally looking up at Bucky again. “Fine,” he says with a roll of his eyes and an even heavier sigh, “we’ll both keep our jobs.”

“Nope, I already said I’m quittin’,” Bucky says, pretending to drop his bag and then laughing when Tony shoves at him without actually letting go of him.

“Such a smartass, I’m not even going to miss you, so just go on and get out of here already,” Tony complains, still not actually letting go of him in the slightest.

“I totally believe you,” Bucky says and then kisses Tony before he can try to insist. Tony melts into it instantly, fingers tightening in Bucky’s shirt and leaning into Bucky’s hand cupping his cheek. By the time they break apart Bucky’s chest feels tight at the impending separation despite his attempts to make light of it, and Tony’s breath is shaking where it washes over his lips.

“Be back soon as I can,” Bucky promises, pressing lingering kisses to the corners of Tony’s lips, the tip of his nose and the point of his chin.

“You better be,” Tony replies, leaning into Bucky’s hands cupping his cheeks a little more before his eyes finally flutter open again. His big brown eyes are clear and just a little bright with emotion, but his voice is more steady than before as he says, “Just make sure you come home.”

Bucky’s breath catches a little in his chest, and he has to swallow thickly before he can promise, "Long as I got you here waitin’ on me, I wouldn’t dream of not comin’ back to you.”

"Good,” Tony says firmly, then reels him in for a final kiss.

~~~

The Great Debrief Location Debate is still ongoing as they prepare to file out of the Quinjet, and Scott likes to think he and Yelena are pretty close to winning.

They’ve managed to make Romanov laugh a couple of times, at least, and that has to count for something. Even Barnes has been giving some input on the plans, even if it’s only facial expressions and occasional grunts, and Scott is going to give himself credit for that, thank you very much. Hope resorts to just listing nearby restaurants as they emerge into the busy hanger, techs already swarming around the jet for repairs and restocking, and Scott shoots her a glare as his stomach growls loudly.

He has his mouth open to tell Hope that she is not going to defeat him this way, but one of the other agents lingering in the hanger mutters ‘Oh shit, it’s Director Stark,’ and Scott abruptly loses his train of thought. The news apparently spreads quickly across the hanger, a hush falling over the milling agents as at least half of them stop what they’re doing to watch Director Stark stride into the hanger. His fierce right-hand woman is at his side as always, and Scott notes in alarm that they’re heading straight for his little team.

Past his panic, Scott can’t help also noticing the way Barnes’ head snaps up, and it’s interesting to note that even he’s intimidated by the director of SHIELD.

But then a wide smile splits Barnes’ face, wider than Scott had even thought he was capable of, as he steps away from the group and right up to Director Stark. For a split second Scott thinks he’s about to see a mutiny, but instead of attacking the man Barnes wraps his arms around Stark’s middle and actually sweeps him off the ground with the force of the inexplicable hug.

The hanger has fallen so completely silent that Scott is pretty sure everyone can hear the gears of his brain grinding themselves into confused dust as Director Stark’s arms wind around Barnes’ shoulders, clinging to him right back.

“Hi honey, how was your day?” Stark asks, his voice dry and apparently not at all surprised by this turn of events.

“Missed you,” Barnes replies, his voice muffled by the way his face is thoroughly shoved into the chest of the director of all of SHIELD.

"Must you do this now?" Ms. Potts asks with a fond roll of her eyes, as if this is in any way normal.

It takes way longer than it should for Scott to put the pieces together. He swears he can actually feel the dots connecting in his mind as it sinks in that ‘Tony’ is also ‘Director Stark’. Barnes’ tragic late husband, who he talks about with such wistful fondness that it’s a little heartbreaking, is also SHIELD Director Tony Stark.

And then, before he’s even aware the words are building, Scott finds himself loudly blurting out, “I thought you were dead.”

He’s painfully aware of everyone in the already-still hanger turning to stare at him, including Barnes and Director Stark. Scott is also much more dimly aware of someone badly muffling laughter behind him, but he’s a little distracted trying to will himself down through the floor and out of here.

“I’m sorry, did you say that you think I’m dead?” Director Stark asks slowly, one of his eyebrows crawling up his forehead. "What- you thought you were working for a ghost? And you did so willingly?"

"What- no," Scott says with a frantic shake of his head, “not a ghost, but- Everyone thought so!”

He glances over at Hope for support, but she just fixes him with a fierce glare that makes Scott want to sink even further into the ground. The other agents and techs that were just here have all mysteriously vanished or moved halfway across the hanger, and it looks like Scott is on his own.

“I mean, you-“ he tries to defend, and he can’t stop his gaze from flicking between Stark and Barnes, “it- it just really seemed like, well like…”

His voice trails off weakly and the two of them continue to stare at him for the most painfully long second of Scott’s life. Then a slow, gleeful smile starts to grow on Stark’s face as he finally turns his attention back to Barnes.

“I know Steve says you turn into a sourpuss on missions," Stark says and it sounds a lot like he’s struggling to fight down laughter, "But are you really so grumpy that your teammates think I’m dead?”

Barnes grumbles something in response, but it’s drowned out by Yelena bursting out into wild laughter. Scott turns to fix her with a betrayed look, because she clearly knew and said nothing, and then he fixes the same look on Romanov when he realizes the same must be true of her.

Sure enough she’s smirking widely, and when Director Stark’s attention turns to her she confirms, “He really, really is.”

“No’m not,” Barnes grumbles, barely pulling his face away from Stark’s chest enough to get the words out and shooting Romanov a narrow-eyed look.

“You definitely are,” Romanov says, “all the new kids think you have a tragic dead husband.”

“And you just let them think that?!” Stark asks, pointing one finger at her as his voice finally breaks with laughter.

“In my defense, it’s very funny,” she replies with a shameless grin.

Barnes shoves his face back into Stark’s check with another grumble while Yelena laughs harder and Ms. Potts pointedly turns her attention down to the tablet in her hands, like she’s bored with all of this.

“Did you think his husband is dead?” Stark demands of one of the technicians who dared to emerge from their hiding place, and they freeze.

Their eyes flash down to Barnes for a second, then around the hanger like they’re looking for an escape. Finally they look up at the director again, nod minutely, and then scurry away as quickly as they can.

“I can’t believe I’m just now finding out about this,” Stark says, his tone offended as he clutches Barnes’ head to his chest.

“I can’t believe it either,” Romanov says gleefully, “everyone knows.”

“You’re all fired,” Stark shoots back instantly, “every single one of you.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t fire the entire staff this week,” Ms. Potts says flatly, not looking up from her tablet.

“You’re fired too.”

“Hooray,” she replies, her voice as dry as the desert.

“Do you hear this?” Stark asks, turning his attention down to Barnes with an honest to god pout, "I don’t get any respect at all. And apparently, I’m dead."

Barnes looks up him, still with that weird little smile on his face, and flatly says, “I’ll kill 'em all for you.”

“I know you would, honey,” Stark says with a wide grin, apparently completely charmed by the offer.

“Please ask me to kill for you.”

“Not now, dear,” Stark says, patting his head.

“Can you release your moody husband so we can debrief and be done with this mission?” Romanov asks, interrupting them.

“No,” Stark says with a sniff, “I am taking my moody husband and you can have his report later.”

“But-“

“Don’t question me, I’ll haunt you,” Stark threatens and he has to raise his voice a little because Barnes has already turned and started marching out of the hanger, the director of the entire organization still wrapped around him.

“You’re not dead!” Romanov calls after them.

“Apparently I am!” Stark shouts back with a laugh, and then he and Barnes are gone.

Motion slowly resumes around the hanger, quiet conversations picking up again, and Scott turns his glare back on Yelena.

“I can’t believe you did not know that he’s married to Tony,” she says, shaking her head and still snickering.

“Why would we connect ‘Tony’ to Director Stark?” Hope defends, her cheeks red with what Scott’s pretty sure is equal parts rage and embarrassment, “and it’s not like we’re in your little inner circle, or whatever.”

"And he was so broody!” Scott insists, looking around for more support and sure, now he gets other random agents nodding emphatically. “You could have said something, instead of letting me look like a moron,” he adds in a grumble as he shoots a sour look at Yelena and then Romanov, but she’s now talking to Ms. Potts and doesn’t notice at all.

“He said his husband 'used to’ work in R&D,” Hope says a little desperately.

“Right,” Yelena agrees with an innocent smile, “and now Tony is the director. Apparently, it has really affected their time together.”

Scott groans as he struggles to reframe all of his and Barnes’, admittedly limited, conversations. “I think I want to be fired,” he finally grumbles, and Hope nods while Yelena laughs again.

~~~

Tony spends the walk through SHIELD HQ to the residential wings clinging to Bucky and telling people, “Out of the way, dead man coming through!”

Bucky spends the entire walk bouncing between amusement and mortification. It certainly explains why Scott was so weird about his questions, what Bucky had thought was the new kid trying to learn more about the boss was actually him genuinely asking about Bucky’s not-so-dead husband, and Bucky has to admit it’s kind of sweet. It’s certainly a new method of trying to make friends.

“Quit claimin’ you’re dead,” Bucky grumbles as the door slides open to let him into their suite.

“Never,” Tony says gleefully and refuses to stop clinging as Bucky attempts to set him back on his feet, “I am never letting this go.”

“I’m divorcing you,” Bucky says flatly and nips at Tony’s throat so he laughs and finally loses his grip.

Tony’s feet hit the ground but he keeps his arms wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders, keeping him pulled in close and laughing as they nearly trip over each other. When Tony leans in a little more to kiss him it’s so tempting to just sink into it and forget about everything else in the face of Tony, warm and perfect and alive, but that final thought has his lips pulling down again.

“Stop pouting and kiss me back,” Tony demands, laughing against his frown, and with a sigh Bucky loops his arms around Tony in return, sealing their lips together properly.

“I’m not that grumpy,” Bucky grumbles once they slowly break apart, but it’s hard to be actually upset when he finally has Tony with him again, where they both belong.

“Apparently you are,” Tony says with a delighted laugh and drops another kiss to Bucky’s chin before stepping back, “so grumpy people thought I was dead. You’re ridiculous and I love you."

“Love you too,” Bucky replies automatically, then sighs heavily as he asks, "Can I pay you t’ let me live this down?”

“Definitely not, never,” Tony says gleefully, “now then, do you want dinner? I can make you the Widower’s Special.”

“And what is that?” Bucky asks, amused despite his best attempts to at least appear annoyed.

“It’s just leftover pot roast, but I continue mocking you the entire time," Tony replies, flashing him a quick grin as he turns away from the entryway.

“Sounds perfect,” Bucky says with a huff of laughter and a shake of his head.

He can’t help reaching out, his hands lingering on Tony’s shoulder and waist as Bucky follows him into the kitchen. Once the plates are in the microwave Bucky only puts up a minor protest before letting himself be pulled into another kiss, and before long he can barely remember what he was pouting about.

Besides, he really doesn’t care what anyone else at the agency thinks, or if their friends tease him for being broody without his husband. All that matters is Tony, and that he’s home.

[19blackbutterfly97-blog]

Twisted Bonds - A/B/O - Pt. 3

Word Count: 1858

T.W.: Angst, language, brooding Bucky

Twisted Bonds Masterlist

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Alice stepped out of the elevator to the Avengers' living quarters and into the main common room. Her things were brought up earlier and left in her room. She hadn't expected a whole welcome party or anything but she figured there'd be at least one person around to show her around.

"Welcome, Miss. Belova." A mechanical British voice sounded from overhead.

"Um... Hello?" She answers in a quiet voice.

"My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y. I'm a personal AI, designed to assist in all aspects of life and work. I have alerted Captain Rogers to your arrival, he will be with you shortly."

"Oh, uh, thank you. Should I just...?" Alice asks, motioning to the couch, a little unsure if the AI could see her or not.

"Wait here? That would be fine. Let me know if I can be of any help to you. And welcome again."

Alice mumbles a thank you as she moves to sit on the couch to wait. After not even five minutes though, curiosity gets the better of her. She stands up and looks around a bit, familiarizing herself with the layout. She stands in the middle of the common room, behind her is the makeshift living room with a sectional couch, a loveseat and a recliner sitting in a semi circle around a glass coffee table and fireplace with a huge mounted TV on the wall. To her left is the entryway and private elevator, to her right is the communal kitchen and dining area. The table however is offset a little more, settled slightly in front of the large bay window overlooking the city below.

Alice smiles to herself and aimlessly walks to the window. If there was ever a time for Alice to feel her size now was it. She didn't know it but the spot she chose to lean against to stare at the city lights was the same one Bucky usually took purchase at. The sight of her tiny frame pressed against his best friend's favorite spot caused Steve to smile.

It didn't take much for Steve to drag the rest of Sam's plan from him. He was far too giddy to keep his mouth shut when asked. Originally Steve was against the idea of any Omega joining the team, especially one with as little field experience as Alice. As with every Alpha, Steve was hardwired to want to protect, but he loved the idea that there was a chance to bring his friend out of his usual stoic and broody mood. Steve's reluctance was outweighed by his need to take care of his pack, so he agreed to the half-assed plan with conditions. He threw out Sam's idea of a meet-cute, he knew Bucky would figure it out before they even had a chance to get it all set in motion. It just made sense to pretend like nothing was going on; they'd politely push the two together through work. A little work-related forced proximity never hurt anyone, right?

Steve takes a few steps forward and clears his throat, trying his best not to scare her. Alice lets out a surprised squeak and spins around with wide eyes, settling when she catches sight of him. "Oh, Captain Rogers." She breathes out, a hand over her racing heart.

Skittish, he'll love that. "No need for formalities, Alice, just call me Steve." He says, taking a few steps forward and extending his hand, being careful to leave a comfortable distance between them. "Welcome aboard. Sorry about scaring you there."

"That's alright. I wasn't paying attention." Alice smiles and steps forward, taking his hand. "I'm happy to be here. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Of course, the team is excited to meet you and see what you can do." He says and drops her hand then motions for her to follow him. "So, obviously you already found the common room or living room depending who you ask. Trust me, it's a whole discussion some days. The kitchen is through there feel free to get something whenever you'd like. If there's something specific you can ask F.R.I.D.A.Y and she'll add it to the grocery order."

Alice nods along as she takes in the information and tries to match his pace. "We take turns cooking, though I'd order takeout if it's Natasha's night. She's not a horrible cook but better safe than sorry, right?"

"Got it." Alice mumbles with a small chuckle.

Cute. "There's three levels of bedrooms, each one has its own kitchen area. The rooms are soundproof but again you can call out to F.R.I.D.A.Y if you need anything." He leads her up a stairwell, still going over the basic layout of the tower, basic rules and courtesies and of course pack dynamics.

Alice listens politely the entire way, drinking in the information and filing it away in her brain for future reference. At the top of the stairs she bristles slightly and pulls her zip up tighter around her. The scent of so many Alphas in one place with little buffers was a bit overwhelming. She moves over to the glass, peering through it and watching the team train. A glint of light bouncing around the room grabs her attention and she searches for the source of it, gasping slightly when her eyes settle on Bucky whose currently in a sparring match with Natasha. The two ex-assassins skilled in their own way, a classic battle of brain vs brawn. Alice would be embarrassed to admit that she was enamored by the sheer force he's able to exert.

"The training room and gym is there on the left and over here is your office." Steve says, drawing her attention away from the fight and to the now open office door. She schooled herself and pushes down the slight arousal as she walks ahead of Steve into the office and looks around. It's bare aside from the desk and the uncomfortable looking chair, a box of computer equipment stashed in the corner and a box of her personal things from her office downstairs.

"Sorry. Tony said he'd have this set up before you got here." Steve huffs and cuts a glare across the hall.

"It's alright, I can work on my laptop until it's set up."

"He still should've had it done."

"Really, it's alright." Alice confirms and sets down her laptop case on the desk before moving to check the chair. Hard and uncomfortable just as she thought. "Um, Steve? Do you think it'd be possible to get a different chair in here? A softer one maybe?"

"Yeah, we can do that. Anything else?"

"Um..." Alice looks around. She looks at the window facing the gym for a moment and remembers she probably has curtains to hang over it so that's not a problem. She has some decorations and things to make the space feel more like hers. She looks at the blank wall behind her. "How about a whiteboard?"

"Old school. I love it. We can definitely do that." Steve smiles and looks up at the ceiling a little. "F.R.I.D.A.Y?"

"Already on it, Captain." The AI responds.

"Thank you." Alice chirps and looks around again. "This is perfect. Thank you, Steve."

"You're welcome. Are you ready to meet the team or do you need a few minutes?"

"Um... Can I have a few? Just to calm myself a bit?"

"Of course. Do you want me to wait outside for you?"

"I think I can manage walking across the hall by myself, Steve." Alice laughs. She had decided from their handshake that she liked Steve. He was kind and smelled like the beach.

"Ooh, a little sarcasm, because that's what we needed around here." He answers, matching the sarcastic lilt in her voice. "I'll be across the hall. Come on over when you're ready."

"Will do. Thank you again." Alice smiles and watches Steve leave her office, closing the door behind him. She was grateful for that.

Alice slumps back in the chair a little and takes a few deep breaths. "Well... Hello top of the food chain." She mutters to herself and looks around again. She sniffs the air and decides she'll probably need to place a scent blocker at the door for a while until she gets used to working here. A crash from across the hall confirms the idea of investing in a speaker as well. She'd have to drown out the noises and smells of the pack training. Alice pads around her office for a few minutes, setting a few things in place before she finally musters enough courage to walk across the hall and meet the team.

The intrusion of an Omegas sweet scent permeating the air of the training room caused Bucky to falter. He's distracted for a split second which is just long enough for Natasha to twist out of a headlock, pulling his right arm behind him. She delivers a kick to the back of his knee causing him to drop to the floor with a grunt.

"You little..." He says through gritted teeth. A small giggle breaks through the haze of annoyance that was settling in Bucky and he looks up. Standing a short distance away is Alice, blushing and giggling at something Tony had said to her. Shit. Don't do that.

Tony shakes her hand and walks out of the training room with purpose, leaving Alice in the company of Sam, Clint and Steve. Bucky seethes slightly at the sight and a low growl rumbles in his chest. 

An act of pure jealousy that nobody but Natasha seems to notice. "You know you'll have to actually talk to her at some point, right?" She teases smugly in his ear. She can already tell how this is going to go and she can't wait for the fall out.

"Shut it." He bites back before rising to his full height. The wall of 6'2" muscle and power stalks over to the group. For a moment he held back, worried about intimidating the girl but a curiosity he didn't even know he had carried him further.

"Oh, and this is Natasha and Bucky." Steve says.

"Call me Nat. It's nice to have another chick around." Natasha smiles and holds out her hand.

Alice shakes it and offers her own smile. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Alice."

Nat drops her hand and raises an eyebrow expectantly at Bucky. He sucks in a breath and attempts a friendly smile. He's caught off guard when Alice's wide eyes focus up at him. They're a unique shade of green, bright and vibrant like an emerald in the sun. Her dark hair falls behind her shoulder, exposing the pale skin of her neck and her scent gland.

"Hi." She squeaks out, clearly intimidated. Fuck, she has no idea.

Bucky fights the urge to bury his nose against her neck like a crazy man and instead offers a curt nod. He hesitates for a moment before circling her the way a wolf stalks their prey. "They tell you everything this job entails?" He asks in a gruff voice that sends shivers down Alice's spine.

"Yes." She squeaks again. She has to stop sounding like that.

"So you know who you'll be training with?" Alice shakes her head. Bucky cuts a glare at Steve. It's like they're trying to get her killed. He thinks to himself before turning his attention back to the Omega. "Me."

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost in The Shadows Sixteen

A/N: Hey I'm back, this is a little bitter sweet I will post the final part of this series soon, but that maybe my last post depending on later feelings, I'll always keep this account up however just very little interaction, Tumbler hasn't been what it was when I started using it like 4-5 years ago, when I was a freshmen in High School, it was a lot more fun and had a lot more interesting stories being posted at that time, I haven't found myself coming on here intentionally more out of boredom, and even then I don't see anything I'm interested in anymore. But this also could be a hiatus that last a few months to a year I don't know, my app will still be on my phone so don't be afraid to interact or ask me things, I still have another project I was working on and then stopped, I've also been so busy with my Job, that I just haven't had the energy to Wright like I used to be able to.

Wordcount: 1,404

Warnings:  Angst, Guns, then obviously Brock, kid’s, possible torturer, , If forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// 

Tags:@cherryblossomsky- @babylooneytoonz- @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex- @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff- @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1- @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love -@stoneyggirl2 - @ordelixx - @arunabrak - @cjand10

Four Years Ago

After coming back from being gone for months verging a year, Steve seemed to show up out of nowhere looking for Bucky. When Y/n answered and saw the policeman, her already pissed demeanor seemed to intensify, as her eyes shot looking at him that he knew he should already be ten feet into the earth with, he. “What do you want, Rogers?” She hissed. “You couldn’t give a mourning widow and Pregnant woman her space?” 

“Mourning Widow?” He asked, making her eyes widen with realization. 

“Uh, I’m sorry, you didn’t know, Bucky and I were attacked in Romania, where he was shot… twice.” Her fingers knocked themselves around each other. At this moment, Steve was seeing the woman, and not the crime syndicate boss. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He said softly, not really knowing what else to say, he left to process what he’d been told.

A week later he came back. “I want all the information on Brock, Y/n, I want to help you finish this.”

_______

Y/n learned as much as she could about this new chest piece Brock had added to the puzzle, he had insane abilities that matched nothing anyone she had, Y/n wasn’t ever going to send her men, nor Natasha into an unfair fight. So she  decided that tonight, she would end this war that had taken her babies father away, and a good portion of her time away from them as well. They were young, so Y/n knew if she died now, when they were older hopefully they’d forget. As she busted her way through the doors of the warehouse, allowing only the moon’s light into the dark building she could barely see anything. She had her gun ready to go off as soon as she saw anyone. “You came alone.” Brock's voice echoed. 

“I’ve seen what your guy can do. I wasn't going to risk any of my men.” Her voice was cold looking for where the man could be.

Brock’s laugh echoed through the building. “I’m the one who sent Romanoff the tip, I let him be seen by her, Y/n, I’m the one who gave you those videos. I wanted you here.” Brock’s voice turned dark. “I wanted you to see him, come out.” The tall brooding man stepped out of a shadowed corner, moving forward in the darkness, Y/n was only able to see the outline of his foreboding frame, when her arm came into contact with cool metal, the shiver it sent down her spine was one of memories, of being on the sandy beach of the Island in Romania and Bucky’s prosthetic running down her bikini clad back, or when it was nice and cozy that one whiter night and Bucky’s hand reached to pull her impossibly closer. 

By the time her brain caught up with her body she was thrown on the dirt looking up into a cold blue eye that held the moon's rays in them. “Bu-Bucky.” It came out in almost a sob of fear, relief, and sadness. In his eyes however all they held was nothing, maybe confusion, but mostly nothing. “This isn’t you.” 

Four Years Ago

It happened so fast Bucky hadn’t been thinking, as Brock lifted his gun at Y/n, Bucky swiftly moved so that she wouldn’t have gotten hit, as the gun went off once then twice, and the brutalizing pain that went through Bucky’s stomach and chest was worse than when getting his arm amputated, then again that had been done when he was partially in a coma and by professionals, but as he saw Y/n’s wide eyes he realized that for her and for his unborn baby he’d do it again for either one. “Get out! Leave Y/n!” She began running on instinct. 

“Grab him!” Brock’s voice of frustration was the last thing he heard.  Before waking up to himself being operated on by Brock's guys getting the bullets out, he tried to fight them off but quickly found his arm was strapped down and his prosthetic missing. 

“Don’t worry Barnes, you’re gonna be very useful in the downfall of your wife.” Brock Spoke from somewhere out of Bucky’s view. “Give it to him.” 

A blue liquid began to be put through two IV’s and Bucky felt everything in him burn.

_______

“That isn’t going to work Carter, he doesn't know you anymore, we put his mind into a blender.” Brock spoke passively, fueling Y/n’s anger. She only needed to get him, she didn’t want to hurt Bucky, if it wasn’t necessary.

She looked around for an out, so instead She let a low pitched whistle through her lips, making Brock arch a brow, The door’s she had just burst through, came in Steve and a squad of feds. “So you work with cops now?” He recoils into the shadows for his escape. “Ascetic, atack.” And as if a wire was plugged into a TV Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken, as he began to stock towards Y/n.

Steve ran to follow Brock, before he could witness what was about to happen, and all of the feds followed him choosing this time to rade the building, all while she was there facing him alone, he quickly got a hold of her forcing her to the ground, she swiftly jabbed his side. “Bucky, stop this, you need to come home, we have two beautiful babies waiting for us at home, Autumn and Aiden, and they would love to meet you.” She spoke softly, leading him outside as she moved backwards towards the doors. 

“Stop acting like you know me.” His voice held virtually nothing in it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” She shook her head. “So you can kill me now, and leave Our kids orphans, or you can return with me.” He faltered taking a step back when Y/n offered to immediately be killed, it was shocking, but he felt a twinge of something when she mentioned the kid’s being orphans, why did he care? He thought.  She could see it in his eyes. “Death and I have shaken hands a few times, I’m not scared, and I’ve made my peace, so if you're going to kill me get it over with.” 

He knew he couldn’t he knew what this would result in when he’d go back, they’d beat him for not completing this, this is what he was made for this is what they told him that he would have to do no matter what, and sure he could and had killed people before but this was different. “You don’t have to go back with him either, you can come with me.” She spoke softly, as the moon shone down on them and made her eyes sparkle, he just shook his head before bolting away into the night. Y/n on fast feet, chased him, she wasn’t about to let him go again, but she only got so far until she felt as if her lungs were going to give up and her legs felt as if any more movement would cause her to collapse, the red, blue, and white, of a cop car was flashing nearby, she fell to her knees, as Steve came and found her his hand went to her shoulder. “We’ve got Brock.” He spoke looking for any sign of Bucky in the shadows, but there would be none, he was so fast he had to be at least a mile away by now. 

She nodded, getting up and composing herself, before getting into Steve's car. He turned to her with a look of concern as he drove. “What is it Steve?” She huffed.

“Are you alright, when you chased Bucky, Y/n you both ran ten miles in thirty minutes.” Steve told her, making her brows furrow, it hadn't felt that far or short for the distance, but her vision had gone into tunnel as she followed Bucky back there. 

She just brushed it off, shrugging, but her thoughts began to stir thinking of Bucky’s strength at the where house, when he tried to force her to the ground there was no possible way to fight back, and his speed he was a decent amount a head of her though still in view, she had no clue what Brock had done to him and she didn’t know if she wanted to. 

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 2

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Drinking, sexual innuendo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count:   1947

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 2

“Bobbi!  Bobbi, are you home?”

Melody was buzzing when she got home.  The preliminary interview with Captain Steve Rogers had gone so well, and she currently felt this swirling mixture of excitement, relief, pride, and euphoria inside her.  It left her feeling slightly high, and her hands trembled every time she tried to use them.  Now, she wanted nothing more than to metaphorically vomit out everything that had happened to her cousin.

“I’m in here!” Bobbi called back from her bedroom.

She tossed her handbag onto the table and went straight to Bobbi’s room.  Her cousin was sitting behind her vanity applying makeup, already dressed in a black sequined romper that flattered her figure, and a pair of lace-up thigh-high boots.

“So tell me,” Bobbi said, gazing back at Melody through the reflection in her mirror.  “How was your first big celebrity interview?”

Melody flopped onto Bobbi’s bed with a squeal and kicked her legs.  “Oh my god, it was so good! He was so open!  I didn’t expect him to be so open!  He talked about all the health issues he had when he was a kid!”  She sat up suddenly and clapped her hands together.  Bobbi!” she said.  “We spoke about circumcision! I spoke about circumcision with Captain freaking America!”  She fell back on the bed and kicked her legs again.

“And was he pro or against?” Bobbi asked as she finished off the wings of her eyeliner.

“Against.  He doesn’t understand why society has changed so much that it’s now as common as it is.  Back when he was young it was just for medical or religious reasons.”

Bobbi uncapped her lip gloss and hummed.  “So Captain America is uncut.  That’s interesting.  I wonder if that friend of his is too.”

“James Barnes? I mean most likely.  I don’t think he’s Jewish.  Although, I guess he could be,” she mused and sat up again.  “He’s so fucking handsome, Bobbi.  I mean his skin is flawless. And I know we always see him with the cowl on so he just looks like this square-jawed jock, but he has such soft features.  They’re quite feminine actually.  And his eyes… fuck… Seriously. They are so blue, and his eyelashes are so goddamn long.  He’s really beautiful.”

Bobbi blotted her lips on a Kleenex.  They were now a dark red with a slight glitter to them, making them stand out against the warm copper of her complexion. She turned to face her and crossed her legs.  “Oh my god,” she said.  “You have a crush on Captain America!”

“No, I don’t,” Melody argued, huffing and folding her arms over her chest.  The pouting didn’t last long though.  It was hard to argue that she didn’t feel some attraction to Steve considering how kind and good-looking he was.  “Okay - so maybe I do.  Me and a few billion other people I’m sure.  He’s hot as hell and really kind.  I’m only human.”

“I’m more into the friend,” she said.  “But I did always go for the dark and brooding types.”  She gave a dismissive wave above her head and looked back at Melody.  “Be careful, chica.  You need to stay impartial and if you want this article to be good you have to be able to ask the hard questions. That’s not easy when you’re trying to impress someone.”

“I know,” Melody said.  “I will be.  I am aware of how big of a break this is.  Besides, it’s not a hard-hitting exposé.  I’m just writing a profile piece. I’m not trying to break the poor guy.”

“Alright.  I believe in you.  If anyone can get the Pulitzer and the guy, it’s you.”  She stood up and clapped her hands together.  “We should celebrate.  Come to work with me.  I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Where are you working tonight?” Melody asked.

“Stonewall,” she said.

Melody quickly jumped up.  “Oh, fuck yeah! If I have to sit through vampire dinner theater again, I would have to shoot myself.”

“Rude!” she said and gave Melody’s ass a playful smack.  “You love Dracula’s dinner show.  Now go get dressed.  You are not going to Stonewall dressed like a banker.”

Melody yelped and ran from the room, hurrying to her little nook to change.  She hung up the clothes that Bobbi’s friends had loaned her and changed into something more appropriate for a nightclub.  She opted for a pair of colorful trainers over heels for comfort.  The thought of being on them all night after spending the day in the ill-fitting pair she borrowed was too much to bear.

Bobbi clicked her tongue impatiently when Melody was ready to go, and they hurried out to catch the A train down to Greenwich Village.  The adrenaline high kept Melody babbling away happily all the way down to the bar.  They spoke about the interview, Bobbi’s upcoming auditions, and where they would move when they both made it big.

“I’m just saying that I am sure there would be a really nice place here in SoHo that we could share and it wouldn’t at all be weird that we were still sharing a home when we both are successful and have our own families,” Melody said as she followed Bobbi up to the bar.

“Fine.  We’ll pool out money and buy a huge mansion and you can have the east wing and I’ll have the west wing,” Bobbi relented.  She stepped behind the bar as Melody took a seat, and went out the back to put her things in her locker and punch in.  It was still early so there wasn’t a huge crowd, but it was still busy, with people milling around nursing beers as they talked, or taking photos with some of the historical items on display.

When Bobbi returned, she grabbed a bottle from the top shelf and brought it over to Melody.  Melody watched as she pulled out a tiny goblet-shaped glass, a filigree spoon, and a sugar cube.  She placed the empty glass in front of Melody and balanced the spoon on top of it.  She then put the sugar cube onto the spoon and poured a shot of the green liquid over it.

“Okay,” she said, setting the cube alight.  It began to drip flaming globs of sugar into the glass.  “When you’re ready just pour some water on top and stir the sugar into the glass.”

She put a small glass of water next to the glass.

“We’re doing Absinthe? Are we celebrating or grieving?”

Matthew, a tall, lithe man, with wiry muscles, and a deep umber complexion, stepped over from the other end of the bar.  Melody knew him well, he often shared shifts with Bobbi, as they tended to work on singing bartender nights - his voice was deep and rich and he attracted a crowd whenever he worked.  He and Bobbi had become close friends, and he had been to their apartment for most of the small gatherings she held.

“It’s a celebration,” Bobbi said.  “Our little girl just did her first interview for a proper magazine article.  Not a small one either.  A three-page spread.”

“Wow,” Matthew said, leaning back on the bench behind him.  “That is worth celebrating.  Who are you interviewing?”

“It’s kind of a secret,” Melody said.  It was a lie, but she wanted to tease him with the information.  “Come here, and I’ll whisper it.”

He laughed and came close, leaning over the bar toward her.  “This better be good.”

“It’s Captain America,” she whispered loudly.

He pulled back and held his hand over his heart.  “Damn... Girl!  You did not just drop that on me.”

“Pretty good, huh?” she said.

“Your first interview?  You are going far!  Do not fuck this up!” Matthew said.  “He’s fine… though I prefer his friend.  You know, the one with the metal arm.”

“James Barnes,” she said, trying not to laugh.  Matthew and Bobbi had very similar tastes in men.

“Is he as good-looking in person as he is on TV?” Matthew asked.

“Better,” she said.

“Damn…” Matthew cursed.

He was called down the bar by a customer, and Melody focused back on her drink, pouring some water on it and extinguishing the flame.  “I thought it was illegal to sell absinthe?” Melody said as she stirred in the sugar.

“It’s fine if it doesn’t have the wormwood in it.  But don’t think that without it you won’t get fucked up.  It’s over 60% proof.  Be careful,” Bobbi said.

“You’re the one that served it to me!” Melody yelped.

“Yeah, because you said one drink.  There’s your drink,” she said, pointing to the small glass of green liquid.

She picked it up and sipped it.  The water and sugar had cut through the strong burn of the alcohol and the aniseed and herbal flavor, but only a little.  She threw the rest back in one go.

It went straight to her head, and that one drink became two, and then three.  Then it was dancing with strangers and joining in singing anytime the waiters broke out into song.  Then it was making out with a woman in the line for the bathroom.  She completely gave in to the adrenaline of the night.  Everything seemed like a good idea, and on top of the fact that she hadn’t eaten since lunch with Steve, she was very drunk after not very long.

The night didn’t end until the bar closed at four, and Melody ended up singing on the subway with Bobbi on the way home at half past four in the morning.  She wasn’t home until five and she simply collapsed down into bed, still fully dressed, and passed out.

When the alarm went off two hours later, she felt like cooled-over death.  Her head throbbed and her mouth was tacky.  Thoughts came to her, sluggish and foggy, like everything was soaking in treacle.  It took far too long for her to remember that she had to go interview Steve in Brooklyn today.  When it finally sunk into her brain, she stumbled out of bed.  “Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cursed, making a beeline to the shower.

She spent way too long in the shower and then had to just pull on the first things she could find, which happened to be jeans and a T-shirt.  Thankfully, her jacket dressed it up a little.  She quickly did her hair and makeup to try and make herself at least look human, and then rushed out the door with her bag, not having time to even make herself a coffee.

Luckily there was a food truck on the corner of her street right outside the subway stop that not only sold coffee but also had breakfast croissants and doughnuts.  Extra luckily there was no line when she reached it and she was able to grab an egg and cheese croissant and a coffee before jogging down to the train and getting on the first one that would take her to Brooklyn Heights.

The car only had a few people in it when she got on, so she took a seat, put on her sunglasses, and began to slowly sip the bitter black liquid hoping it would revive her before she had to see Steve Rogers.  She hadn’t even been on the train for ten minutes when it stopped at the port authority bus terminal.  People flooded onto the train and she focused on her coffee and the last remnants of her croissant.  She didn’t even think twice about the person who was now standing directly in front of her.

“Rough night?” an all too familiar voice asked.

She looked up to see Steve Rogers smiling at her.

// NEXT