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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months ago

Note

oh no if an angel tried to decapitate Husk daughter who was hiding and Husk see's this and for a moment turned back into his overlord form temporarily and it made the chains Alastor have on him Crack a little. Imagine if Alastor noticed this too

Haha! That’s actually precious in the most tragic way possible! I actually already picture Husk pulling a Charlie and just changing form in that moment to commit Angel murder!

Husker- Daddy’s Little Girl

The Battle for Hell is getting more and more messy throughout every second. Charlie’s getting apprehended by Adam, Alastor had been beaten in ages ago, Vaggie is struggling a bit with Lute, the Hotel crew are already getting surrounded by so many exterminators.

Husk is among the group of the fighting Sinners and whilst he is expertly fending off Angels to protect himself and his new friends, his mind is littered with how you, his seven year old daughter, are doing. If you’re still okay

He had hid you away in the Hotel before the invasion hit, in the deepest parts where both himself and Charlie suspected the Angels wouldn’t be able to find but sadly… both were wrong. Maybe thirty minutes into the intense battle, Husk’s cat-like ears flicked up at the sound of a terrified child scream echoing through the Hotel’s surfaces, something he could hear clearly and he didn’t hesitate to jump down from the rooftop of the Hotel, since he knew that scream is yours

His mighty big red black and white casino-patterned detailed feathery wings spread open and help drop him down after leaping off the rooftop’s edges, climbing downwards, down the many many feet as fast as he can. His wings beating up and down rather hard, allowing him to pick up even more speed. Angel Dust calls out for Husk in shock for his sudden disappearance but nobody tries to actually stop him

Since they all know he’s going to rescue his daughter

Husk rushes into the Hotel, his many weapons prepared to attack. Furious, his ears still flicking with the sound of your fearful whimpering and crying for help, his feet beating with every single step. He needs to find you, you’re in danger! In no time, the ex-Overlord stops his sprint with a hard skid around the corner of the main Hotel’s entrance hallway, needing to make it to you in time

His golden yellow eyes widening in both intense fear and overwhelming unfiltered fury, at the sight before him… he almost can’t believe what he is seeing

“DADDY! HELP ME!”

You, roughly pressed into the corner and being held up by your neck by a single bloodthirsty Exterminator as you sob out with tears streaming and cry out for Husk as loud as you can, the silent angel gripping it’s angelic spear in it’s free hand whilst the other shoves you up against the wall. In that moment, Husk’s hollow powerless soul radiated a powerful magical force, a wave of strength that rushes through his systems and somehow…

That moment of anger and fear for his babygirl, triggered something thought to be completely impossible. His Overlord Magic, the souls’ powers he collected and the strength to attack an Angel full on has crashed onto him like a big tsunami wave, changing his causal black suspender-supported black pants outfit to his past snazzy business-centred suit and slick-black hairstyle, in a single spiral of orange glowing magic. His wings’ patterns had sharpened up, the red colouring glows a bright orange and his golden yellow eyes also grow a lot more sharper

The soul collar around his neck, the invisible magical green chain tying him to the deal cracked, like a big rock hitting a glass window… but it didn’t break

Even Alastor senses this incredible feat and it makes his bleeding wound throb out, gritting his fangs harder whilst hiding off in the darkness of his Voodoo magic. His tight ownership of Husk’s soul just gotten weaker, the bonds around the feline avian demon loosened up immensely for such a insignificant sinner doing a impossible task; temporarily transform back into his Overlord form

Husk didn’t even bother using the weapons, he used his returning power. Dropping those casino and gambling-centred items for battle to take advantage of being able to tap back into the strength he had lost via his deal with Alastor. The weird magical flow coursing through his bloodstream that made him feel on top of Hell and in that moment, he summons a large claw attack from the ground which smoothly slices off the Exterminator’s arms, the disembodied limbs dropping to the floor with a liquidy squish

Before the merciless angel can possibly behead you, as it was already attempting to do so. Having striked at you with its tall sharp spear. The Exterminator had been forced to drop you rather hard, stepping back whilst Husk openly charges this Exterminator and uses even more of his gained-back Overlord magic to case the Exterminator’s mask-covered and halo plus horn-decorated head with a semi-transparent explosive energy-dosed dice-shaped sphere

Shoving the Exterminator off to the right with a rather agile kick, the pure force behind this shove had caused the Angel to stumble back into the nearby wall with a very hard thump as Husk picks you up quickly, feeling your arms wrap around his neck and face sobbing into his suit-lathered chest, little body shivering, cat-like ears and tail drooped down helplessly

Husk‘s murderous rage-glazed golden yellow eyes glare hatefully at the Angel, who’s barely moving at this point, clutched one of his hands together and that magical sphere half-suffocating the Exterminator quickly blows up, effectively killing your attacker with just two magical strikes. You didn’t look at what your father did since you were so afraid of almost dying again and shuddering in his arms

Husk just glared with heavy angered huffing at the body of the Angel he just killed with his returned Overlord power, almost shaking in his boiling protective rage, all for his precious daughter. Nobody touches you on his watch

The ex-Overlord didn’t even get a chance to check up on you, forcing himself to look away from his handywork, to calm down your fearful and pained sobbing and wailing, since the Hotel begun to shake. He didn’t even bother running on foot, he had used a teleporting power in his current Overlord form and transports both himself and you out in a single blink and soft pop of silvery magic

As soon as you’re both out of the Hotel in that quick flash of teleportation magic, Husk spreads his wings again and takes you up off the ground to dodge the big yellow magical energy beam that slices up the Hotel in a single clean strike. It’s menacing, it’s intense but he isn’t going to focus on that until he has you off in a more safe location. Clearly, he messed up and his first decision didn’t work in protecting you

Husk ensures both you and himself are away from the Hotel enough, his mighty feathery wings flapping in the air with strong sharp gusts of wind slicing out every beat up and down, holding himself and you above the ground

He is usually a lazy man, not preferring to fly but right now. He must put you and your safety above everything so he’ll keep you a few feet away from the crumbling apart Hotel and a few feet off the floor as long as he has to, to make sure no other Angel can get their hands on you

He takes those few seconds of nothing and of the brief safety to check on you, rubbing fingers over your pinned-back fearful ears. Tilting your little chin up with your glowing teary eyes looking up at him as your lips quiver and letting out shaky breathes

You haven’t seen your father in his Overlord form in so long… it’s almost surreal that he is right now. The same suit, the same streaked pushed-back hair, the different patterns on his wings. However, he is still your beloved parent

“Are you okay, Princess? Daddy’s sorry that he didn’t come sooner. Did that bad Angel hurt you?”

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t-tomuras · 4 months ago

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✺ ─── • 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

Pairing: Kitsune!Katsuki Bakugou x F!Neko!reader

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: Kinda lore heavy, katsuki and reader are animal spirits with ears + tails, clawing, pinning, taunting, blood, biting, creampie.

Notes: Silly little rewrite I did since I've made some headway with my companion piece featuring Tomura. Fun little AU I share with @katsukikitten inspired by @m-ete0ra's amazing Kitsune Katsuki art!

You’d seen the fires before, nothing created by man ever licked into the night sky quite as high or burned as hot even from miles away. You could be on the other side of the mountain, far from the flames and still know its source by smell alone; you knew well what now scorched your lands was foxfire.

Able to do nothing but lounge in the perch of your tree as you watch the choking smoke plume and singeing cinders blot out your view of the full moon and glittering stars as if whatever vendetta the wrathful fox spirit currently held that resulted in the havoc he wrought took precedence. It makes you snarl, deadly elongated canines glinting in the lowlight as mighty trees that stood the test of time now cracks, splinters and tips from both the blaze and the spirit destructively flitting about the forest floor below.

Watching with a look of utter disdain over all the desolation the spirit, what the humans foolishly revered as gods, caused. Yet still the Mountain God himself favored them over your kind simply because the Nekomata refused to appease the humans that encroached on their lands like the kitsunes did. Using mortals as what they truly were and should’ve always remained: prey.

Tails of pristine fur compared to the neko’s thinner variation, sharing the same feline gaze but somehow only Kitsunes were favorable while the yokai’s were deemed ominous and menacing. The fox spirits, favored only for the beguiling sense of wonder they evoked in the simple minded creatures, rescued the wretched species from a lower station on the food chain. Tales soon spun that painted them as saviors and holier beings and their praises sung while the nekomata’s reputation devolved into scary stories used to instill obedience in naughty children; your kind driven into the shadows and yet still you thrived.

You, alongside a democratically elected King of the Yokai’s as well as a few other formidable Nekomata, held the power to disrupt the unbalanced ‘natural order’. The king and yourself personally harbor the capability of resurrection, the ability to restore a life as easily as you could take it if you saw it fit.

And yet, still the world in which you inhabit find a way to demonize you, neither the insolent humans nor the Mountain God were ever satisfied with the feats in which your kind can accomplish. Proclaiming the act part of the dark arts and condemning the practice, only worsening the view and casting longer shadows for your people to stand in.

Would it be so unspeakable if the Kitsune’s found themselves capable of that gift? Would it still be labeled necromancy unjustly and criminalized? You’re certain the answer would be yet another favorable outcome for your sister race.

Insufferable, infuriating.

Your fury only grows as you continue to watch the destructive rampage, knowing well that there could be only one culprit with the strength to cause calamity of this magnitude so suddenly; understanding easily that only a ninetails could accomplish such a feat and only one hails from this region, Katsuki Bakugou. If you listen closely enough, you’re almost positive you could hear his maniacal laughter and guttural growls echoing through the night as he finds joy in his tirade that bleeds from his territory into yours. Keen eyes watching from your perch until the flames finally breach the imaginary line that separated his kind’s turf from your own before you pounce.

Descending from the highest treetop with precision from branch to branch, sleek tail curling and tilting to aid in your venture. It’s easy to find him, even without the heady scent of burning caramel he always exuded, with a path of destruction that leads you right to Katsuki.

He’s chasing some other poor yokai labeled as evil in nature and an enemy to humanity, a defenseless tengu, fortunately for Katsuki. You already weren’t feeling particularly hospitable with his invasion on your lands but your mood would’ve only stoked into a murderous rage instead of the current ruminating resentment if it were one of your own people.

You land gracefully atop a sturdy branch as you stop just short of four hundred yards of Katsuki, finding a decent vantage point on a branch in a tree safe from his spreading fire to leisurely observe his actions with increasing contempt from the high ground. It’s funny, would the weak little humans still find spirits like Katsuki so ethereal if they saw the ferocity in which he pursued his prey and towered over the lifeless body before he let it be consumed by his foxfire, reducing it to ash as if to remove the possibility of evidence?

“You must be bored,” you finally call in a mocking tone, bleeding into playful as you watch Katsuki glance around for the source, “all of this carnage for a lowly tengu? Or are ninetails actually just weak?” Your voice echoes around the open clearing, joining the cacophony of carnage as it dances around for the added effect of coming from all directions. Cat smiling spreading on plush lips before you laugh at the slight bristle to the fur of his tails and the way he hunches into an offensive position despite not knowing your location.

Yet.

Katsuki’s ears flick wildly but his back remains to you, cautious not to give away that he’s trying to pinpoint your location but you’re smart. You know better than to taunt your targets from a stationary point when you intended to attack.

Smile on your lips tugging further into a full cheshire grin to twist pretty features as you gracefully circled Katsuki from the high ground. Quietly darting from branch to branch in the surrounding trees, burning or otherwise.

“Found it along my way,” haughtiness bleeding into the rumbling grown of his voice as his spine straightens in feigned nonchalance, “recognized its nasty scent as the one that stole from my kin.”

Dazzling bromine attempts to track your practiced erratic movements, watching for any leaf that flutters hastily to the ground and listening for the slightest groan of tree bark that’s even moderately a pitch different to the others that burn under his fire.

“But you smell like something else I’ve been lookin for.”

Katsuki crouches low on his haunches, shoulders creeping high as his tails of a beautiful gradient of off white and toasted gold fur swirl and sway like the flames that rage in the underbrush around you. The hair on your nape stands on end as bromine hues begin to glow brighter and you recognize the beginnings of a casting, your own feline-like pupils constricting with intent and from the dazzling blaze before you finally pounce. Sharp claws gouging flesh from his sculpted back first, finding purchase in his shoulder blades as you toppled Katsuki to the ground from the force. Your teeth sink deep into the toned flesh of his trapezium muscle next, bidding deep mauve to weep from the wound and down your chin as you bite harder, guttural growl rumbling in Katsuki’s chest.

“Funny,” your taunt slightly muffled around his flesh, “I thought you gods only bled gold?”

He snarls at that, the vibrations of his pain and rage reverberate against your own sternum as you release your hold a moment later to go for his jugular; but, Katsuki’s quick to recover, staggering to all fours then propelling back to slam your back into the rough bark of a tree behind you. Your hold releases from the force, gasping in a desperate bid to fill your lungs with air in a steady rhythm once more but that moment is all Katsuki needs in order to seize the upper hands. Gives Katsuki enough time to grab at the pretty kimono you wear, certainly stolen from a poor human that strayed too far into the wrong woods of the mountain.

He fists the delicate material so harshly you can hear it rip as you’re wrenched over his shoulder, back slammed flat into contrastingly frigid solid earth. The base of your skull colliding first and so suddenly you’re unable to guard before the impact, disoriented easily as Katsuki climbs on top of you and pins you down by your hips and shoulders with all of his weight.

Snarling victoriously and gnashing his teeth tauntingly as he crowds your space, making you thrash even more wildly than you would by simply being pinned with the unwelcome proximity. Writhing just enough for your knee to come up and connect with the sensitive tissue dangling unprotected between meaty thighs that makes Katsuki growl again.

Though he doesn’t buckle the way most others do, you should’ve expected enough of him and his infamous nature. Grunting as he pushes your head into the ground with his palm and impresses more of his weight to secure you properly. Bakugou palms your face then, tilting it upwards to give him clear access to your throat with the intention of ripping out your windpipe in one fell swoop.

Panic threatens to seize your lungs, your claws desperately dig into Katsuki’s skin but he pays the pain no mind, going for the kill only to stall with his dripping maw almost enveloping your throat. Glowing bromine widening and burning brighter as he retracts just enough to press his nose against your pulse point, earning a surprised yelp from you that makes saliva gather on his tongue. Worsening to the point it drips from the corners of his lips with the scent that clouds Katsuki’s senses.

Usually overpowering notes of ash and poison that naturally comes with dabbling in the dark arts are successful in masking the individual scent of each demon but that doesn’t seem to be the case with you.

The ominous scent is greatly overshadowed by the overwhelmingly pleasant notes of orchids and berries that linger on your skin even despite the smell of burning wood that chokes the atmosphere. An intoxicatingly sweet mix that has Katsuki inhaling deeply again, finding your wrists to grasp with a bruising strength in one hot palm in a subtle threat of foxfire as he pins them to the ground above you. Splaying you out beneath him as he shifts, pressing his thicker shins into your own to effectively immobilize you despite your thrashing before placing his free hand at your ribs. Pads of his fingers digging into your flesh with a bruising strength as the points of his sharp nails just graze puncturing the delicate meat in warning to keep still.

He chastises himself even as he drinks in the smell of you, reminding himself that you’re a demon and he has a duty to put you down and yet he can’t. Drunk on everything happening in this moment, ignoring how you hiss at him threateningly but not how you buck your hips into him. You hope to cast him away, even with the difference of strength, it’s your center of gravity, you should have the advantage but he uses his weight and build to his own, snarling long and low until you reluctantly settle.

Katsuki takes it as a submission, and with each deep inhale of you, his nose glued to the column of your throat that begs for him to run the flat of his tongue up the expanse of it, he feels slightly deluded into thinking it’s also a reciprocation of interest.

The more rational side of his brain, quieter now as he loses himself to lust, reasons this has to be some cheap spell he’s never encountered before but he can’t bring himself to care. Doesn’t really feel the need to break himself of its hold, at least not before he satiates the carnal desire bubbling in his gut, roaring in his veins and threatening to consume him the way his foxfire engulfs the forest around them.

He shakes the distracting line of thought away, fully devoting himself to this moment and his desire as he tightens his hold on your wrists so the other can slide from your ribs, down your waist and push your pelvis into the ground. Thick and calloused thumb digging into the fat of your hip as he does and he succeeds in pulling a pretty whine from you that makes his cock stir against your mound. He releases a shaky breath, lips parted for the humid puff to dampen the skin of your throat and send a pleasant tremble down your spine. Lips resting at the curve of your shoulder before his tongue laps up your throat, forcing you to tilt your chin upwards with the movement and give him more access, crimson hues threatening to roll at the slightly salty taste of your flesh on his tongue.

Katsuki has to swallow thickly, hum rumbling in his throat as he adjusts his body so his hips slot between plush and powerful thighs to grind his cock against your barely covered cunt. Your legs almost instinctively spread further to feel the delicious friction at your burning core even though your mind screams to fight back, that now is the perfect opportunity to free yourself. That he’s still a fox, a wretched spirit that believes themselves a god, a man who’s heart you should steal and bring back to the king as a spoil of war while Katsuki’s distracted but you don’t.

You can’t.

Almost purring along with him as his hot palm paws at the fullness of your chest, thick digits a ghosting tease over pebbled nipples, torso nearly exposed from the way he’d manhandled you earlier and he forces your back into a slight arch from his nosing alone.

Another deep breath from him, inhaling you once more as your own lips part around a silent moan as Katsuki’s face presses against your jugular but you don’t feel threatened in the slightest, “yer not who I’m lookin for.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t Katsuki’s sudden and altogether withdrawal from you. Soothing weight against your body is gone all at once, already on his feet and palming at his hard cock as he leaves it neglected while you sit up on your forearms, working to regain your senses quickly before Katsuki is able to leave.

And you react violently the moment you do, as you should. Ears flattened against your skull and teeth bared at the ninetails as he swipes at the drying blood you’d drawn from him earlier, already thinking of how he’ll explain to the village healer just how exactly he’d gotten such deep wounds for her to mend.

But there’s a smirk on his face as he crouches low enough to grab at you from your underarms, gravely voice settling deep into your bones and (regretfully, for you) straight to your throbbing clit, “but you might be now.”

Your eyes widen as he lifts you, pressing you to his body as your back connects with the tree trunk he’d slammed you against earlier. Katsuki paws roughly, fingers digging harshly into the meat of your under thighs just below the curve of your ass, urging them to hook over his hips. Lips melding with yours in a bruising kiss before you can spit venom at him, prefer a less verbal sort of tongue lashing from you while he fumbles at the obi of his Yukata, pushing the material back enough to free his aching cock without leaving him fully bare.

Pushing at the already open neck of your kimono to finally expose your chest before he shoves at the intricately layered obi to peel away the layers that hides away your weeping slit, slotting his length between your folds with a throaty groan at the feel when he’s revealed a satisfying amount of your body to him. Tongue swiping over yours, rutting into you slowly to coat himself in your slick while the fat tip kisses your clit with each drag that has you mewling sweetly for him. Rewarding Katsuki with wanton moans to swallow greedily, repeating the action almost cruelly slow, just enough to draw more pretty sounds from you but not enough to deliver you sweet rapture until he catches at your fluttering entrance.

He pushes in slowly when he does, the gradual stretch so delicious your eyes roll and you reach between your body’s to grasp at the girthy base as if you want to push him in quicker. It makes Katsuki chuckle against your lips, ducking to your throat to hear your mewls uninhibited as he marks you with a gentler touch as he sees fit.

As gentle as a man like him can be, anyway. Sharp canines scraping against this skin, raising the flesh in his wake before leaving deep punctures to lap at the blood he draws with a low hum.

You’ll regret allowing this later, you know, sure to sneer at your reflection but for now you moan unabashedly as you both find a satisfying rhythm. Eager to reach euphoria even if it was with a creature you were predisposed to loathe.

But those were the best kinds of highs, the things you shouldn’t partake in nor enjoy. Sinking your claws into his shoulders when Katsuki nudges at that spongy patch within you just right while you keen. He’s quick to take cues, especially with the way your cunt squeezes him tightly, groaning in turn, claws digging into the tree bark with a ferocious grip as he fleetingly tries to subdue his climax while yours washes over you in pleasant waves.

Teeth grit as he feels the coil tighten in his abdomen, driving into you with precision until you’re careening over the edge so soon after your first one with a cry of his name. Head lolled back for him to freely nip at your throat, sucking another mark right at your pulse point. Drinking in the inebriating mixture of your natural scent, burning pine and the sheen of sweat that clings to both of your bodies as you cream around him.

Thrusting into you with a renewed vigor when you slacken against him, desperate for his own euphoria after relishing your own. Running his tongue along his canines, gripping tightly at your hips while you can only helplessly take what he has to offer. His jaw hangs agape the closer he teeters on the edge, sac tightening when you clutch at Katsuki’s shoulders, sharp nails of your own carving out your pleasure in his flesh as you whine in such a sweet way, begging “please suki, please.”

As if your only need is for him to fill you so full his seed will leak around his spent cock.

Grunting in a near animalistic way as he hurtles towards his demise, sinking his teeth into your shoulder when he reaches his peak, groaning long and low against your skin like he was more than relieved. Painting velvet walls pearly white in thick spurts, hips twitching into yours until he feels the threatening sting of overstimulation.

Allowing both of you to bask in the afterglow of your coupling as felled trees crackle soothingly in your surroundings. If you closed your eyes, if you were delusional enough anyway, you could imagine a plush mattress top caressing the skin of your back instead of biting bark and the crackling of woof sounds from a warm heart. That maybe your lover was just that and not a mortal enemy that precedes your own bloodline.

He pulls his softening cock from you, shushing your pitiful whine playfully as he tucks himself away before lowering you until you’re settled on the ground and certain you stand on mostly steady feet.

Practicing a tenderness you didn't know the kitsunes to have as Katsuki takes the time to fix your clothing, smirk only widening as you hum in the afterglow of your orgasm tipping your chin for your hazy gaze to meet his.

Regarding you as if he had something to say before his lips press to yours again and you melt into the contact, indulging in him for just a moment longer before Katsuki is sure to stoke another flame in you. One that will burn with the fuel of determination to have his heart in your hand before long, muttering a sultry taunt into your skin as he expects to partake in you again.�� “Mountain God’s wrong, you yokai’s are good for somethin after all.”

#vixen writes #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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loupy-mongoose · 8 months ago

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Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

#Linden Roots #art #comic #writing #full #babbies #mite #she's there too #Just not visible.#She's doing her thing and hiding in the floof.#I'm sure Jamie's gonna have a fun time meeting her~ :)

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queers-gambit · 7 months ago

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Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

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