#steve and tony end up having lazy morning sex in the kitchen then go get brunch at their favorite diner 💖

[persephonesfill]

Tony’s love handles and how much Steve loves handling them, the softer the better

i meant to do bullet points and instead this post spiraled so enjoy domestic husbands anon 💖

Steve wakes up to the sun shining in his face and the smell of smoke, which means one of two things. Either someone has flash-bombed his house, or Tony's trying to cook by himself again.

Steve rolls over, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The right side of the bed is dreadfully empty, the Tony-shaped space wanting to be filled.

Option two is looking more likely.

A quick stretch has his shoulders popping with a a satisfying crack, then he's out of bed, pulling on the nearest pair of sweatpants he can find. Tony's, by the size of them; the cuffs stop well above his ankles, the fabric fitting snugly around his waist. Not that Tony will care. After nearly a decade of knowing each other boundaries like personal clothing stop existing.

His search for his shirt bares no fruit and he doesn't care enough to pull one out of the dresser. Not when the smell of smoke is growing even thicker and he hasn't seen hide nor hair of his husband.

"FRIDAY, should I call the fire department?"

"No, Captain Rogers. Boss has DUM-E on standby."

"Not a Captain anymore," Steve grumbles under his breath, but he knows it's no use arguing. FRIDAY is more like her maker than she even realizes. " You'd think after all these years, Tony would put someone else on fire extinguisher duty. DUM-E just douses him every time."

"It makes DUM-E feel important," FRIDAY says in a way that Steve knows it to be the truth. Tony's creations had an endearing quality to them. Personalities and flaws so achingly human. For all of Tony's blustering, they're all Tony's children. And Steve's.

"I think they both like it," Steve announces his presence in the kitchen. "It's how they bond."

Tony's facing the stove, scraping something charred beyond repair (eggs? pancakes?) onto a plate. He's wearing Steve's missing t-shirt and his sweatpants. Thief.

"My ears are burning," Tony says, and Steve can't resist getting a jab in.

"So are your eggs."

"These are pancakes," Tony pokes at the goop on the plate like it's going to will any flavor back into the briquettes he calls pancakes.

Steve comes up behind him, until Tony's back comes flush with his chest. He slides his hand under his—Tony's, now—shirt, for the soft flesh he knows hides underneath.

Tony's tummy is beautifully, blessedly soft and full to the touch.

Tony stiffens, still self-conscious after all these years and that just won't do.

The image of Tony, pale and gaunt and halfway dead still haunts him at night.

He'll take Tony as he is, silver hair to tug and love handles to caress, and full of life.

"None of that," Steve whispers into his ear. Tony shivers and relaxes into Steve's grasp, a rabbit waltzing right into snare. Steve doesn't mind playing the hunter from time to time.

He drops a kiss on top of Tony's head, buries his face in his god awful bed hair and breathes.

[p0orbaby]

Birthday Barbecue

a/n: well this was supposed to be a drabble….. AWYWAY, I hope you enjoy what Tony was talking about when he mentioned his birthday celebrations.

warnings: 18+ SMUT, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial, reader being a little shit, everyone grilling Wanda and r (friendly banter), language, alcohol

Word count: 2.5k

-

The sun had finally begun to set by the time you made it to the beach house. The weather had been unseasonably warm for the end of spring and Tony had decided last minute that he wanted to celebrate his birthday by the coast.

You pulled your grey Audi R8 into the driveway, seemingly ending the long line of high end vehicles as you parked behind Natasha’s black Corvette stingray. It wouldn’t be long until you had to trade in your sweet ride for a more family friendly car. But after copious amounts of begging and the added sweetener of lazy morning sex, wanda gave in and let you keep it for a little while longer.

“Wanda sweetheart, we’re here” you spoke quietly so as to not startle her awake. She had been exhausted as of late. The pregnancy had started to take a toll on her, something you were more than willing to accommodate for.

Her eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your touch against her bare arm. Her skin cool and covered in goosebumps from the air conditioning blowing for the better part of the four hour drive here.

“What time is it?” She said sleepily.

“Almost 8pm. Looks like everyone else is already here. Let’s get you settled inside then I can come back and get the bags”

You received a small nod in return. Wanda must’ve been a little discombobulated because she gave you an answer to a question you never asked. She was cute when she was tired.

Turning off the engine, you unbuckled your seatbelt and rushed around to the passenger side of the car. Wanda had already started to push the door open and swing her legs out when you grabbed onto her so she could plant her feet on the ground.

“I can stand on my own baby” she informed with a chuckle as you looped your arm around her waist, guiding her towards the door.

“I know, I just want to be close to you”

The sound of gravel crunched under both of your feet with each step closer to the house. It was either that or the roar of your engine that alerted someone of your presence. You were greeted by Steve leaning against the frame as you approached.

“Well I see you’ve still got the car. How did you manage that one? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten soft Wanda?”

“Shhh don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll change her mind and make me get rid” your hands came up to cover your wife’s ears in jest.

“My wife can be very persuasive when she wants to be. And my pregnancy hormones make it very hard to say no when she’s on her knees-“

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Get inside you before you embarrass Steve further” a blush crept up your neck whilst Wanda just chuckled and brushed past the blonde.

“You two seem to be in a good position. No pun intended” Steve stated once Wanda was out of earshot.

“I’ve got one word for you my friend. Therapy. Now, help me with the bags because if I don’t have an alcoholic beverage in my hand in the next five minutes, I’ll be telling Peggy about what went down between you and that blow up doll at my pre wedding party weekend”

“You wouldn’t dare. What about what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? What about out bro code?”

“Let’s hope we don’t find out. And I’m not a bro, so you grab that case and scurry your little ass to the kitchen. I expect something heavy with liquor waiting for me when I get there”

It happened so fast that all you could do was laugh when, instead of grabbing the one case, he grabbed all your bags in one arm and lifted you with the other, running into the house at speed. He wasn’t taking any chances.

This weekend was going to be great.

-

“Nice of you two to finally join us. How’s the head Y/N, feeling fragile?”

“You did this to me, Stark. Your idea of a single measurement must be completely off”

“On the contrary, you’re just a lightweight”

The night before may have gotten a little out of hand. Steve had mixed you a drink as promised but Tony had decided it was a good idea to crack open some vintage whiskey he kept aside for the occasion. The next thing you know you’re swimming in the sea in your clothes with no recollection of how you got there.

“Oh and make sure someone reminds me to soundproof the guest rooms in the near future” he added nonchalantly as he flipped the bacon that was frying in the pan in front of him.

“And why would you need to do that Tony?” Your question automatic as you searched the fridge for something other than beer or whatever milk alternative Pepper was raving about this month.

“Because next time I have guests such as yourselves, I don’t want to hear you fucking eachother through the walls. Wanda, who would’ve thought you’d be into such freaky stuff”

The orange juice you had somehow found and started to guzzle down desperately sprayed out of your mouth all over the inside of the fridge and down your chin.

Wanda, who had taken it upon herself to start cleaning up some of the mess from last night, stopped in her tracks and turned completely red at the thought of people hearing the pair of you being intimate.

“Yeah Wands” Natasha joined in as she entered the kitchen with Bucky in tow. “I didn’t peg you as a daddy kink type of person”

Great, now everyone seemed to be joining the party.

“Can you, I don’t know, shut the fuck up? Just a suggestion”

“Oh come on Y/N, you’re amongst friends. Wanda, give us the details. How’s your wife the sack? No, don't tell us. I bet she ‘feels so fucking good’”

The room erupted into laughter at Bucky’s impersonation of Wanda in the throes of passion.

“Aaaand look at that, I suddenly hate all of you. Come on babe, let’s leave these children to laugh at our expense”. You walked over and grabbed her hand, leading her back out of the room. The laughter behind you only getting louder.

-

“Right, who wants burgers?”

It was mid afternoon when you all decided it was time to head out to the deck and get started on lunch.

“You want a burger baby?” You whispered into Wanda’s ear, brushing your lips against her neck as she sat curled in your lap on one of the deck chairs.

“We could share? I’m not that hungry. I had a big breakfast”

Wanda wasn’t wrong about those pregnancy hormones. The woman was insatiable. The second you got back upstairs she was all over you like a rash. Dropping to her knees in front of you as soon as the door clicked shut. At least this time you were able to keep your noises down to a minimum.

She did have a big breakfast indeed.

“Me and Wanda will have one between us” you shouted over to Clint as he stood in Tony’s lended ‘kiss the cook’ apron at the grill.

“Only half each after last night? The pair of you need to keep your strength up after that much cardio”.

“Who’s side are you on Pepper? I thought you were one of the good ones” Wanda quipped, narrowing her eyes at Pepper in the process.

“Oooh wee, my girl is feisty today. Pep get over here and give me kiss”

“Oh so it’s alright for you to kiss but when we do it it’s the subject of conversation for the whole weekend?”

“There’s kissing, then making a porno in Tony’s spare room!”

“Stay out of this Clint. Or I’ll stick that spatula where the sun don’t shine”

“Well we all know your great at sticking things in places”

Jesus Christ was it ever going to end?

-

Once again the sun had decided to bless you with the warmth of its rays. Even so late in the day the heat was strong. So you decided to have another swim in the sea. Sober this time of course.

However getting in the sea meant getting into your swimsuit. Which also meant your wife ogling you as you walked towards the water.

“Earth to Wanda”

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Wanda and Natasha had decided to spend their time sunbathing on the loungers. Natasha too full to move and Wanda too achy to do much other than sit and stare at you.

“You’re unbelievable. You’re not even trying to hide it anymore”

“Hide what? That I love my wife?”

“No, that you want to jump her bones every second of the day” a chuckle left Natasha’s lips right before she took a sip of her cocktail.

“Don't act like you don’t think that about Bucky?”

“Oh I never said I didn’t, but at least I’m abit more low-key about it”

Wanda turned her head away from her friend to catch you diving into the water. Mind reeling at the sight of your muscles tensing as you jumped into the waves.

“I have needs, Nat. I have needs and she gives me what I want”

“I bet she does”

A beat passed in relative silence. The pair of them basking in the sun, enjoying the sound of the waves before them. That was before the calm was broken by you shouting at Wanda from the ocean.

“Babe! Baby! Come swim with me. I miss you!”

Normally Wanda would object. She wasn’t a water body at all and she didn’t feel like having to wash her again once it was plagued with salt water. But it was her holiday too, so she might as well enjoy it while she was here.

So she stood from the lounger, a little less gracefully than she would’ve hoped, and excused herself before she wandered towards you. The sand warm on her feet.

“If you dunk my head under the water, I won’t be very happy” she informed as she paddled in the shallow waves hitting the shore. It was warmer than she had anticipated

“Normally I’d be tempted, but I’ve got better ideas”

“And what are those? I’m not racing you to the end of the pier and back again. You definitely cheated last time”

The water finally reached her shoulders as she swam up towards you, wrapping her arms around your neck as you held her in place.

“How dare you accuse me of such a foul thing” you feigned offence at her comment, knowing full well that you most definitely did cheat your way to the finish line that day. It was Wanda’s fault for wearing a strappy bikini top. You told her time and time again, one pull and she’d flash the whole beach. It was only fair that you showed her you were right.

You’d made it to the end before she’d even got the fabric back around her torso.

“So are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned. Or have I just hobbled all the way over here for no reason?”

The look you gave her made her stomach drop. A keenness in your eye that she knew all too well.

“I saw the way you were looking at me Wanda”. the hands that rested on the back of her thigh travelled slowly towards the soft tissue of her ass.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Oh I think you do. I know you get a blush creep over your chest when you’re turned on. And I don’t think it’s just the sun getting you all hot and bothered”

You dipped your head to suck on the soft flesh that sat between her neck and shoulder. Causing Wanda to hold back a moan as you licked across the skin to soothe the area. The taste of her perfume light against your tongue.

“You must not know me very well then, because that doesn’t sound like me at all” her voice was strained as she tried to keep some composure.

“Hmm, doesn’t it? So you wouldn’t like it if I touched you here then?”

Your hand trailed from her ass around to the front of her body. Fingers finding her nipple through the thin fabric of her bikini top. Tweaking it ever so slightly.

“Nope, not at all”

“Or here?” Your movements travelled south as you found her heat, pushed the underwear aside and brushed over her with a teasing intent.

“I- you- , I think you should- fuck”

“I can always stop? Because you said you didn’t like it after all”

“Don’t you fucking dare” her voice now laced with desperation as your fingers ghosted ever so lightly where she needs you the most.

“Can you be quiet this time? The waves are loud but you do have a set of lungs on you. And we don’t want everyone hearing how much of a slut you are for the the second time in 24 hours”

“I can be quiet” her response quick. Rushed. Strained even.

“Good”

Your fingers plunged into her then. Guided in by her wetness and held there by her tightness. She was always so ready for you. Pride bloomed in your chest at the thought.

Once settled with the feeling of you inside her, you started the slow touchrous movements you had planned. Soft thrusts in and out with a curl of your fingers every so often. Building her up with a leisurely pace guaranteed to leave her breathless and quivering.

Her hips bucked as the heel of your hand pressed against her clit. Relieving some of the pressure between her thighs. Even so, it wasn’t enough. The throbbing was getting more intense and she needed you to do your worst.

“Baby, please. I need to cum”

“I’ve barely even started and you’re already at the edge. Did this morning ruin you that much?”

Before you could carry on your administrations with even more vigor, a voice from the shore pulled you briefly out of your bubble.

“We’re about to cut the cake so get yourself out and dry if you want a slice. We’re not saving you any of you take too long”

Bucky’s deep voice boomed across the distance separating the group on the beach and the two of you in the water.

“You hear that baby, they’re going to cut the cake without us”

“I don’t care, I’m so close”

“We don’t want to miss out on it though so do we?. You know how Tony gets when he’s not the centre of attention”

The mischievous grin on your lips did nothing to quell the burning desire in Wanda’s stomach. Especially when she knew what that meant. Her suspicions were confirmed when you untangled her legs from your waist and removed your digits from her velvety walls. Causing her to clench around nothing.

“Last one to the house has to bottom for a whole month” you hollered before she could even register that you were swimming away. Water splashing in her face as you kicked your legs propelling you forwards.

“You little shit, get back here and finish what you started!”

“No can do baby. The cake awaits!”

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 1

Lazy Mornings:  A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  2361

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.  (smut on series)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself.  When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.  Idea expanding on the one in my fic Lazy Sundays though it’s a completely different story (just same minor god x steve).

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW.

Chapter 1

Steve was on edge.  The Avengers had just come to the end of a very long, and very grueling mission.  With the lack of sleep, niggling injuries, and stress of battle, that would have been enough to have him anxious and exhausted just by itself, but Tony had insisted that they have a party to unwind while Steve still had government agencies to liaise with, paperwork to fill out, and people to question.  So instead of getting his work done so that he could sleep off his injuries and actually unwind, he had to be ‘on’ as the public figurehead of Captain America for a bunch of strangers while he was still running on less than four hours of sleep and had a cracked rib.

As he made his way through the large, open room, Steve became aware of a strange phenomenon.  The people around the door were in full party mood.  People were dancing, talking animatedly, and playing games of darts.  But as Steve moved through the room, the mood got more relaxed.  There was less dancing and more just talking and sharing drinks.  The level of the music dropped so it was more muted and even though the song never changed it somehow felt like it went from an upbeat dance number to a soothing ballad.  The light changed in the room too.  Closer to the elevator bright-colored disco lights cutting through the dark.  Whereas, by the windows, there was a soft diffused gold light, almost like early morning light coming through a gauze curtain.  By the time Steve reached the couches that were set up on a platform against the windows on the far side of the room, everyone was just lazing back on the couches, casually drinking in the soft light.

Thor, Bruce, Wanda, and Clint were all sitting together with you.  Steve didn’t recognize you, but the soft glow in the room seemed to both highlight you and make you seem like you were in soft focus. You had a slightly ruffled look like you’d woken up recently from a very good sleep.  Clint was practically curled up next to you like a cat.

“Steven!”  Thor boomed, making everyone near him jump in surprise.  “Come here, I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

Steve tried to hide the frustration that suddenly bubbled up inside him.  His friends had been trying to set him up with people for months and months now.  He’d been on countless blind dates with people he had nothing in common with, and even more dinners with surprise guests he was forced to be on with.  He hadn’t expected it from Thor and he resented the fact that even after such a grueling few weeks he needed to now play a round of the dating game.

Thor got up and approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he gave your names.  He leaned in, bringing his lips to Steve’s ear.  “You may feel the urge to pull away.  Resist it - for me.”

Steve sighed and nodded as you looked up at Thor.  “You’re not staying?”  You asked.

“Not tonight,” Thor answered.  “I wish to celebrate.”

You gave him a small nod.  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do.  Thank you,” Thor said, letting Steve go and heading back into the party where Tony was talking animatedly with Hill.

Steve took a seat near you.  Clint looked up at him with hooded eyes, like Steve had just disturbed his sleep, but not enough to properly wake him up.  There was an odd feeling of lethargy around the couches.  Not in a bad way exactly.  Just an overly relaxed sleepiness that made Steve wonder if they’d been partaking in marijuana before he’d gotten here.  Along with the sleepy-looking Clint, Wanda had her legs tucked up under her and was staring absently out the window, while Bruce was relaxed back with a goofy looking smile on his face.  It strangely had the effect of making him want to get up and leave in case he’d forgotten to do something.

“So what do you do?”  Steve asked as he resisted the urge to go back down to the office and get his work done.

You smiled and shook your head like you found the question funny.  “I like to paint,” you say.  “And I make a mean breakfast.”

Steve looked at you puzzled.  He’d never come across someone who answered that question with their hobbies rather than their job.  He wondered if you didn’t have one and were embarrassed or if you did something you didn’t think Steve would approve of.  The thought you were a HYDRA agent passed through his head and he looked over at Thor.  “How do you know Thor?”  Steve asked and Wanda started to giggle.

“We run in similar circles,” you say.  “Though I admit, I do not know him well.”

“She’s not HYDRA, Steve,” Wanda giggled.

That knowledge made Steve relax a little and you smiled at him.  “You’re holding a lot of tension, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said.  “We’ve been on a mission for weeks now.  It takes a lot of me.  Everyone really.”

You placed your hand gently on his forearm.  He normally didn’t like when strangers invaded his personal space like that.  He’d had a fair amount of sexual harassment since becoming a supersoldier.  However, there was nothing even flirtatious about the moment.  It was genuine and kind and made him relax even more.  “It can be hard to let it go,” you said.  “But you are done, and now you can take the weight off your shoulders.  No need to carry it tonight.”

Steve tilted his head.  “Are you a therapist?”

You chuckled again.  “I guess - of a sort,” you said.

Steve was perplexed by the vague nature of your answers and couldn’t help thinking people were hiding something from him like this was some big trick.  Though he couldn’t see any reason why Thor of all people would be the instigator of such a trick.

“Will you relax, Steve?”  Wanda chided.  “She’s just a girl Thor thought you’d like.”

Steve tried to do as he was told.  He had to admit that it wasn’t easy though.  You definitely had a calming influence.  Despite the loud music and drinking happening in the rest of the room, at the couches, it was like a slumber party.  Bruce looked as relaxed as Steve had ever seen him, his whole body open and still as he talked calmly.  Clint dozed on and off, waking to join in on the conversation and then dropping back off to sleep again, while Wanda was giggly, and about an hour in she said she was going to go to bed and paint her toenails.

Whatever it was that was affecting the others, Steve could feel it too, but in the middle of what was a raging party, Steve was unwilling to completely relax.

“You don’t like it here much, do you?”  You asked.

Steve shrugged.  “I don’t mind a party sometimes, but no… not today.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a home-cooked meal,” you mused.  “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“No,” Clint whined as Steve balked.  “Don’t go.”

“I don’t… that’s probably not a good idea,”  Steve said.

“I meant for dinner, Steve,” you said.  “I promise, no funny business.”

Clint sat up and stretched.  “You should do it, Steve,” he said.  “Live a little.”

Steve looked at Clint and Bruce who were both nodding in approval.  He sighed and gave a small shrug.  “I guess I’m coming then.”

You got up and offered your hand.  “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He let you lead him out of the Tower and down into the street where you flagged down a cab.  “I don’t usually do this,” Steve said, as he sat in the back with you.

“I know,” you said.  “That’s why Thor set us up.”

“You’re not…” he stopped, not sure how to ask the question that was swirling in his mind right now and have it not come out as either offensive or judgmental.  “Are you a sex worker?”

You smiled and shook your head.  “No.  I like my bed though.”

“Why are you being so vague then?”  Steve asked.

“I can tell you if you really want to know,” you said.  “But Thor thought you might fight it more if you knew.”

Steve tensed up and shifted away from you a little.  “Do the others know?”

“Oh, yes,” you said.  “And I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I promise what it is, won’t hurt you.  I’m not evil or malicious.  I am not here because I have to be or I’ve been paid to be.  You truly have just been set up with a woman.  And I am that.  I like you and I just want to take you somewhere you can relax and just enjoy a comforting meal.  That’s all.  If you don’t trust your friend on this, just say.  I’ll tell you.”

Steve looked you over, trying to see the lie or the trick.  All he could see was genuine kindness.  He gave a nod.  “Okay.  Will you tell me eventually?”

“Of course,” you said.  “When we’re both sure of how we feel about each other, I’ll tell you.”

The cab pulled up at a block of apartments on the upper west side.  It was a large pre-war building, the kind that has been romanticized in hundreds of films and costs more than most people could dream of earning to live in.

He followed you in and the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor quietly.  The tall ceilings and recessed walls of the hall brought him right back to his childhood.  You let him into your apartment and for a moment Steve felt like he’d stepped into a storybook.  The light was soft and diffused, filling the room with a hazy golden luminescence.  The furniture all looked inviting and cozy, the deep soft-looking couches all had cozy mink throws on them and a collection of fat plush cushions.  There were a few large bookshelves both filled with a mixture of books and board games.  Your TV was large but not obnoxiously so, and your coffee table was littered with candles, magazines, and books.

“Get comfortable,” you said as you headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room.

Steve took a moment to look around your apartment.  There was something about the room that reminded him of the way he and Bucky decorated.  You had a different taste to either man.  Steve was more into straight lines and dark wood, and Bucky like black and chrome, whereas you seemed to lean more into creams with splashes of color here and there.  However, like with him and Bucky, you had a mix of old and new.  Steve liked to keep things from his past whether they be actual things he had owned or just items that reminded him of his mother or times with Bucky.  The things you owned seemed to go back further than what he owned, but there was a lot that seemed to center around the nineteen-twenties.  Though they didn’t stop there.  There were items representative of various decades littering your apartment.  From depression-glass bowls to porcelain animals from the sixties to a lava lamp and a small collection of Pez Dispensers.

Steve noticed a copy of the Hobbit that looked remarkably like the copy he got when it came out.  Picking up several books he noticed that many were first editions.

He went and sat down more confused about who you were than he had been before.  You came out with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.  Each was laden with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and fresh fruit.

“It’s a little late for breakfast,” Steve said, looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

You shrugged.  “I’m good at a few things, but this is the one that’s quickest,” you explained.  “Otherwise we’d be up for a few more hours while I cooked.”

“Breakfast food it is,” he said and started to eat.  You took your plate and sat back, crossing your legs under you and balancing your plate in your lap.  “You have an interesting collection,” Steve said, gesturing to one of your bookshelves.

“Thank you.  I try not to get too sentimental about what I keep and let go,” you said.  “I know it’s a little eclectic but there are some things I just can’t let go of.”

“How long have you lived here?”  Steve asked.

“A long time. Practically forever,” you answered

Steve wanted to ask you what you did for you to be able to afford living here but knew that would meet the same vague answer - so he let it drop and ate.  The food was good.  Warm and sweet and full of fat.  It wasn’t long until Steve began to feel sleepy and content.  You took the plates back away and when you returned to the living room, Steve was practically asleep on the couch.  You came over and gently touched his arm.

“It would be more comfortable in bed,” you whispered.

“I don’t… I never sleep with women on the first date,” he replied, sheepishly trying to fight the drowsiness pulling him down.

“I have a spare room if you want it,” you said gently.   “Though I just mean sleep.”

Steve stood slowly and followed you down the hall.  You opened the spare bedroom.  “This is my guest room.”

“And your bedroom?”  He asked, part of him wondering if you’d drugged him.

“The end of the hall,” you replied, taking a few steps toward it.  He followed you down and as he stripped down to his undershirt you changed into a soft pair of pajamas.

He climbed into the bed with you and you wrapped him in your arms.  As he drifted off to sleep, he thought how strange it was that he felt as comfortable as he did right now.

// NEXT

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: Sinking Fangs

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

Warnings- Violence, Killing, Sex. 

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

 Chapter 9 (part 2) / Masterlist 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How do you know about that? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<His…>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither am I.

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

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

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

The End 🐺

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

She’s So High: Chapter 8: B SIDE: ALTERNATE ENDING

Summary: 90’s karaoke and your snarky wit seem to have revived the charming side of one Bucky Barnes. Everything comes full circle the morning after. *RECORD SCRATCH SOUND* Except this is the B Side...see notes.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): Smut 18+. Swearing. Kissing, Fingering (female), Oral Sex (female receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex. No beta reader so like...typos probs.  Word Count: xxx Notes: So @marvelous-meggi and @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls put the idea in my head when I first posted Chapter 8 of “What would have happened if they had gotten caught?” and I saw that maybe I would write this as sorta a B Side to this chapter. And Meggie tagged me today saying she was waiting still. AND while I was showering I had an idea. So....this happened. ORIGINAL chapter text is in italics. NEW chapter text is regular font. 

You’re taken aback by the bright wash of sunshine flooding the room as your eyes flutter open. A room that is clearly not your room. Your half-awake brain remembers the events of last night sluggishly. This is Bucky’s bed… which would explain the large arm draped across your middle.

You savor the warmth from the sunlight spilling across the bed coupled with the warmth radiating from his body next to you. The soft sheets caress your naked skin as you stretch your muscles; careful not to wake Bucky.

You study his face. All the tension it normally holds during the waking hours is absent. His hair is strewn across his pillow. His limbs, all but the one anchoring you to him, seem to be splayed in every direction. You crane your neck to see the clock.

“Fuck.” You allow another five minutes to enjoy the proximity with the man beside you before carefully sliding under his arm.

You curse once more for sleeping in this late but allow it remembering fondly why you were so exhausted. Bucky had woken you up throughout the night. The first time he had ground gently against your backside. He nearly came from the wanton whines that permeated your dreams. When you stirred awake, he slid into you from behind; relishing in how soaked you had been for him.

The second time you had protested a bit, citing lack of sleep. Not easily deterred, his mouth worked your breasts with lavish kisses. All complaints died on your tongue when his head disappeared under the covers with his apology of “just once more for me, darlin’?” You could have sworn you heard a series of knocks clearly coming from the room next door. All worry dissipated as Bucky tongue fucked you through not one but two more orgasms.

The third time was entirely your “fault”. You had woken with your throat parched. Returning from the bathroom with a glass of water, you noticed a tempting tent in the sheets. Thinking you’d have the element of surprise, you were certainly shocked (though not complaining), when things ended with you bent over the side of the bed with Bucky’s cock pounding you into the mattress.

You smirk at the memories, attempting to find your clothing from the night before. Quickly giving up, you opt for Bucky’s flannel as a dressing gown. You’d be able to start breakfast in privacy and come back in normal clothes once the team was awake. Which would be soon if you didn’t hurry; you thought, stealing a final glance back at Bucky’s sleeping form.

You’d settled on a batch of breakfast quiches for the team. You press play on your favorite playlist, letting it provide a pleasant background soundtrack. Once the egg mixture was ready, you could throw it in the oven and probably catch another half hour of lazy morning cuddles with Bucky.

All the vegetables were chopped and ready for the filling. The only problem was you couldn’t remember the ratio of cream to egg. Pulling open the cabinets you see the cookbook you need propped on one of the top shelves. Clearly someone else had used it last. You would never have put it so out of reach. You stand on your tip toes and attempt to swat it down from its elevated prison.

You must have been engrossed in getting the cookbook down because Bucky is able to silently creep into the kitchen. He enjoys watching you struggle; finding your little frustrated cursing adorable.

You see the cookbook teetering, almost within reach, when a pair of hands land on your hips. You freeze but relax once you smell the familiar scent of him behind you. His head drops on your shoulder for a quick kiss behind your ear; hands dipping under the hemline of the flannel.

“You skippin’ out on me, dollface?” He mumbles into your skin.

“I needed to get breakfast in the oven before everyone is up. I was gonna hop back in bed with you while it bakes.” You resume your struggle to get the cookbook down as Bucky chuckles at you. “Would you quit laughing at me?! I need this cookbook. I can’t remember the ratioooooooohh-”

Your reply turns to a moan. One of his hands detaches itself from its place on your hip, effortlessly grabs the cookbook, and tosses it on the island behind you; the other is occupied ever so softly stroking small circles into your clit. You collapse back down off your tip toes and let your weight fall back into his chest.

“Doll, you can’t go around stealing my shirts and making them look ten times sexier than I ever could.” His voice seems entirely unaffected but the sudden shift in mood. “I’m incredibly insecure and you’re showing me up.”

You can hear the smile in his words even if you weren’t feeling it in his lips which are now sloppily and lazily kissing up your neck. You sigh deeply, enjoying the teasing sensations he’s sending through your body.

“Buck-” you whine gently, remembering where you are. “Someone is gonna hear us.”

He pulls back from you to quickly jab at the volume button; increasing the music so others don’t hear you. “Then you better be quiet, sweetheart.”

Needing to see his eyes, you turn around to face him. His hair is mussed. It looks like he’s thrown on the same black jeans from the night before. They hang obscenely low on his hips unbuttoned. He’s deliciously shirtless.  Warmth from the bedroom still clings to his skin.

“I distinctly remember a grumpy old man yelling at me for too loud of music this early in the morning.”

The pressure on your clit relents only to feel a digit slide into your core slowly, his thumb takes up the circles on your clit.

“Come back to bed darlin’. Sleeping in isn’t as fun without you there.”

“I have to make breakfast-” Your reply is choked off by a particularly strong wave of pleasure as his finger pushes pressure onto your g-spot. You open your eyes only to see a perfectly smug and unbothered face. If you didn’t feel his motions deep inside your now pulsing cunt, you would have guessed he was almost bored.

You try again to defend your actions, “Everyone will go hungry if-”

With his eyes locked on yours he adds a second finger into you. “Fuck.” He cocks his head to the side slightly and gives you his best shit eating grin.

“You were saying?”

“I’m out of excuses.” You mold your lips to his, giving into the pleasurable sensations. You attempt to walk him backwards out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

“Nuh uh,” he says with his mouth now sucking deep hickeys into your collar bone. “Wanna see you cum right here.”

You want to protest but the clench of your walls around his fingers betrays you before you can get a word out. You pant small breathy moans into his shoulder as he brings his lips to your ears.

“That’s it, darlin’. I can tell that turns you on.” You suppress another low moan and it comes out more of a whimper. “Knowin’ anyone could walk in… see you becoming a panting little mess stuffed with my fingers.”

At this point, you’re relying completely on Bucky for support; your legs have gone to Jell-O. “I can tell you’re close, doll. I feel you fluttering around me.”

The stretch and glide of Bucky’s fingers have you forgetting about the residual soreness. You bite your bottom lip; hoping it will keep you quiet enough. You’re ready to let go with your release-

“Holy fuck, Barnes!” You whine all vestiges of anger about him teasing you previously slipping away. “Don’t stop.”

His pace is measured and calculated hitting unrelenting on your g-spot with perfect pressure. Perhaps any other time you’d be embarrassed by the slick squelches coming from his motions but all you care about was that they didn’t cease.

“Oh I’m not stopping baby. You’re gonna cum for me right here,” his words are hot and low in your ear as your vision goes white. “And then I’m gonna spread your legs and have my breakfast.”

With those final words you’re a panting moaning mess into the crux of his neck and shoulder; cookbook and quiches long since forgotten while your release rips through you.

“Now I do fully appreciate the suave nature of that line you just laid on your lady there, Barnes; but can the both of you move this to a more suitable room?”

“Yeah like literally ANY other room!” Steve chimes in staring at the two of you pink faced and bug eyed.

“But maybe bleach the countertops first.”

“I’m not letting them get off that easy, Tony.” Steve stands with his shoulders squared, a giant wall of muscle blocking the escape. “ James Buchanan Barnes! Agent! What the hell were you thinking? Engaging in…”

“Fucking seems more apt a word”

Steve presses on ignoring Tony’s interjection. “Being intimate in shared common spaces. Did you want to get caught?”

Perhaps it was the tingles of aftershocks still moving through you but you felt your pussy throb as Steve voiced aloud the very words about the situation you were in. Tony, ever the joyful observer of others misery, locks eyes with you. Whatever state of flushed you were went a shade darker at him noticing your state of rekindled arousal. There was something about being caught that just shot jolts straight to your core. You knew it was risky but that was half the fun. Now to have Steve calling you out on the very thing that turned you on really only amplified the situation between your legs.

“I mean anyone could have walked around the corner at any second to see Bucky and you.”

You can’t help but shift your thighs back and forth aching to get back to Bucky’s room and let him finish his earlier promise.

Tony raises and eyebrow before speaking. “I think they’ve had enough lecturing, Cap. But just think about how much worse it would have been if we came in any later.”

“Yeah yeah we get it,” Bucky comes to your rescue, placing his hand in the small of your back to nudge you back to his room. You quickly duck under Steve’s arm, out of the kitchen hoping Bucky is right behind you. You turn only to see Tony pull him aside, no doubt for one more talking to.

***

“Look, hear me out and try to remember I’m only saying this for your benefit as I’m obviously off the market,” Tony says to Bucky while wiggling his wedding band clad finger. “That girl has a thing and it’s a thing you need to look into.”

“A thing?” Skepticism clouds his voice.

“Obviously get her consent but I think you have a bit of an exhibitionist on your hands there Buckaroo.”

***

“We’re gonna be late.”

You can’t help but laugh as he pushes you into the more discreet alley behind Pastimes; pinning you beneath his strong frame while he assaults your neck with wet kisses.

“Let them wait. I haven’t seen my girl all day.”

Nips and pecks turn to hot, open mouthed kiss and gasping embraces. His fingers quickly trace the cleft between thigh more needing places of yours. You mouth a silent thanks that you’d worn a skirt tonight.

“Bucky, we should go a bit further into the alley.”

“Should we?” His words might as well have been a growl. “Afraid we’ll get caught again, little one?”

He pulls your panties aside and presses into your wetness.

“I’d love it if Stevie came out looking for us and caught you stuffed with my fingers, mid-orgasm once more.”

There’s no hiding the tattletale clench of your walls and renewed gush of slick.

“Maybe he’d give you another lecture about proper conduct and soiling the good Avengers name. But you just can’t help it. You love me finger fucking you where anyone could see us. Don’t you?”

You’re certain he’d wanted to force your response but the sudden turn in your boyfriends demeanor was all too much for you. With his question and recent push of fingers inside your tight channel you’ve gone and cum; walls fluttering, eyes going shut, body tensing in Bucky’s arms.

“Holy shit, doll. Just from that?”

You nod sheepishly at him once the afterglow of your release sets in and you can think again.

“I can’t wait to see what else you can do, darling.” He kisses you gently on the forehead and then the lips before helping you get straightened up. “Now let’s go sing some karaoke.”

Bucky plops down across the booth next to Sam like nothing out of the ordinary just occured. You attempt to make conversation with Wanda but you find it hard to focus after Bucky’s little surprise. Your eyes wander and meet his across the booth. They glint playfully. Your gaze moves to his hand holding his drink. Two of the fingers are obviously coated in your slick. Noticing your gaze, he moves the finger up to his mouth and licks it clean. You let out an uncontrolled gasp.

“You okay there?” Tony says. You pry your eyes away from Bucky’s face you manage a nod. You refuse to look back at him, knowing full well he’s got the largest shit eating grin plastered on his face. Just this once you let him have it; he’s earned it.  

[littledarlinwrites]

Love Will Come Through

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3179

Rating: I don’t know, like PG-13? Nothing explicit, mostly making out and a brief, not graphic, topless scene.

Author’s Note: This is for @shield-agent78‘s “Write Into Spring Writing Challenge” My prompts were: “Don’t yell at me in languages I don’t understand.” & “I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?” This was a fun one to write! Thank you so much for letting me participate, and for being understanding about me running behind, this may be a bit late, but I think it was worth the wait! Huge shout out and thank you to my beta for this fic, @all1e23, and also to @marvel-graphic-designer for the edit! 

Anywho, ya girl is sick and needy so leave me lots of love y’all! Also, if everybody wants it, I may be inclined to make a part 2 eventually.

Summary: Bucky is haunted by dreams of a past lover, but who is she?

A whimper was released from the body writhing beneath the soldier. His body was covered in sweat and trails of pain erupted down his back. The pleasurable pain caused a growl to slip past his lips, lips that were teasing a hardened nipple moments before.

Just as Bucky was about to see the face of the woman that haunted his dreams at night his eye snapped opened and an aggravated groan fell uncaringly from his lips. The vivid memory of the smell of sex and lilacs pungent in the air of his dream world lingers in his mind. Shuri had warned him that lost memories may come back to him, most commonly in the form of dreams. Usually his dreams that were filled with whimpers or moans were coming from his dying victims, but more often lately they were of a mystery woman that smelled like lilacs, lips that tasted like peppermint, and skin softer than velvet. Unmarred like his, a complete contrast of himself if he were being honest. At first, these dreams would send him into a panic. More than once he woke up immediately running for the bathroom to empty the acidic contents of his stomach and the mere possibility that he had not only killed people, but robbed someone of their own bodily autonomy.

It wasn’t until Bucky had these dreams four or five times that he realized that, whoever the woman was, had wanted these intimate moments with him. That not once did she fight him, always pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. This had made him question if he had simply imagined this woman and these moments, that they were just dreams and not memories, but then his broken mind fought back with a vengeance by making them so vivid it was as if he were living them for the very first time.

As the dreams progressed, Bucky became more frustrated. Frustrated that he never saw the woman’s face, frustrated that he couldn’t remember anything identifiable, and most annoyingly, sexually frustrated. Every once and awhile, he would get a reprieve. Maybe a dream about holding the mystery woman in his arms while she drew lazy patterns with the tips of her fingers on his chest while a thunderstorm raged outside. Or maybe even a movie night on the couch that almost seemed just a bit small for two so she was practically laying on top of him, not that he seemed to mind. Or one dream that led him to discover his love and knack for cooking. Though he never let anyone else know. This was one of the few things he had kept to himself. In that dream he was in the kitchen cooking latkes where he had the perfect view of the living room and the cozy, worn chair where the woman sat reading a book with her bare legs draped over the arm.

The dreams gave Bucky more pieces of himself than they ever did of the mystery woman. Eventually he tried finding a way to be in control of his dreams so he could see the woman's face, but he never seemed to quite get a hold of it, usually just causing himself to wake up rather than look at the woman's face. For a while the frustratingly pleasant dreams stopped and the tormenting nightmares of all the lives lost and blood on his hands took its place. That was until Bucky took up residence at the Avengers tower.

After Shuri had finished his deprogramming in Wakanda and had made sure that nothing would trigger him to go into Winter Soldier mode Steve had begun suggesting that he move in the tower. At first Bucky declined, he knew Tony hadn’t forgiven him for what he had done to his parents, he hadn’t even forgiven himself for it. However, after a couple of months, Steve made one of his visits to his little cottage in the luscious green fields where he tended to his goats. This time he wasn’t alone though. The man that owned the Avengers tower followed behind him before walking ahead of him and straight to Bucky.

His muscles tensed, but the look on Steve’s face showed there wasn’t any danger to be feared, that this encounter wasn’t going to go down like their last. Tony made his way over to Bucky, looking down at his shoes once he was in front of him before looking around and then finally making eye contact with him. Bucky held back the apology on his lips noticing the Tony had a look on his face that he wanted to say something.

“Ya know, growing up I always felt as if I was living in the vast shadow that was Captain America. My dad’s greatest achievement. I remember him telling me how he advanced Steve Rogers, why he did it, but the story that intrigued me when I was a kid was the daring rescue attempt he helped Captain America on. Cap’ jumping out of an airplane while the enemy reigned fire upon the aircraft to save a friend. He didn’t even know if his best friend was still alive, and if he wasn’t then his rescue mission would become a mission of taking down every HYDRA bastard he encountered until he cut off the head of the snake. My dad told the story of duty, of bravery, of brotherhood, of love. My dad didn’t speak much of HYDRA, but he always got this far-off look in his eyes whenever he got too close to the subject. That was the story I thought of when Rogers asked me about you moving into the tower. My knee-jerk reaction was a firm ‘hell no,’ but then I remembered that story. I did some digging you know. The HYDRA we know today, versus the one that existed then. What caused us to end up where we are today. I get why Rogers protected you from me. Honestly, I never truly dealt with their death. And I may have placed that on you. It was easier that way, but it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Just like what happened to them. Just- just like what happened to you. Rogers, T’challa, and Shuri have all assured me that you aren’t that guy anymore. Shuri proved that you weren’t. And, I believe them. So, if you want a room at the tower, it’s yours.” Tony said. At first, Bucky wasn’t sure how to process everything, and he was sure the look on his face showed that in spades. He didn’t manage to stutter something out until Tony nearly walked away.

“Do you,” Bucky took a deep breath as Tony halted his movements, “do you think you could ever forgive me? For what happened to them?” Bile rose in Bucky stomach in waves.

“No.” Tony said, deadpanned expression before breaking into a soft smile. “I forgive him though, the soldier. You aren’t the one to blame, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know you, the guy Cap’ rescued. The one I grew up hearing about. Without you Rogers would have just been some poster boy, and who knows, maybe my dad would have been into pharmaceuticals and who knows where we would all be now.”

The chuckle of Tony’s laughter dying off in Bucky’s memory of that fateful day. Not even two weeks later did Bucky have his new arm secured, his belongings moved to the tower, and his nightmares vanishing. Bucky remembers the day he met you. The newest Avenger that had arrived during his recovery with Shuri. Your specialties more useful at the tower than anywhere else you had explained. The scent of something floral floating around you stirring something within him, but at the same time there was something off about that scent that Bucky couldn’t place. The worst part he didn’t know why you stirred these familiar feelings, or why there was something off. He didn’t remember you, but sometimes he felt that tug in his mind that he would feel when his brain was trying to recall something it lost to HYDRA.

Bucky gravitated toward you and he had no idea why, every possible explanation that he conjured up never seemed to encompass the whole picture. Was it your gentle nature? Your fierce loyalty? Your never-ending patience? He remembers the first time he came back from a mission. You were waiting with the others that had stayed back and you were wringing your hands nervously in front of you. The look of concern in your eyes increasing tenfold when you saw Bucky limping his way off the quinjet. Bucky stopped in front of you wrapping his arms around you, breathing in the lavender smell that clung to your skin and the herbal scent of your hair. The scents calming him down instantly. Bucky was home. You had dragged him off to the medbay, but stopped at his room instead since it was closer and he was nearly falling asleep on his feet. You sat him down on his bed before walking to his en suite bathroom to get his first aid kit. Bucky remembers your gentle touch the most from that day. Fingertips ghosting along his injuries, your eyes warm and filled with care, every movement filled with a gentleness that could make Bucky cry.

When Bucky realized that he wasn’t going to fall back asleep he looked over at the alarm clock on his nightstand. At the sight of the time, half past three in the morning, Bucky released another frustrated groan. Shuri and Steve both told him that his mind would piece back the memories in time, that eventually he would figure out who the woman was, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating that every night for the last six months the dreams only teased him. Some days, on his particularly bad ones, Bucky’s mind would cruelly remind him that he doesn’t even know if the woman is still alive, worse yet, what if she had met a painful end by his own hands. What if his mind was just protecting him from this and only showing the good?

Bucky gets out of his messy bed, the sheets pulling off of one corner from his jostling, tossing, and turning. Bucky made his way to the kitchen hoping a cup of tea would soothe him enough to go back to sleep. As soon as he opened his bedroom door he was assaulted with the smell of latkes. Bucky’s mind spun for a moment and he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he had fallen back to sleep, to some modified dream where he’d finally see the woman's face. It wasn’t until he saw you at the stove top that he was convinced that he was actually awake. Bucky walked up behind you, the smell of fried potatoes filling him with a sense of comfort. His flesh hand had barely grazed the small of your back when you jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“Shit- Bucky, you scared the hell out of me!” You spoke with your hand against your chest, willing your heart rate to slow down as you realized you were in no actual danger.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d make some tea.” Bucky said sheepishly.

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize you were here, I thought everyone went on that mission they all left for when I accidentally fell asleep this afternoon.”

“Oh, I was going to, but I ended up getting sick so I crawled into my room and sat this one out.”

“Oh. Well, do you want some latkes? I always make more than I can eat for myself. That is, if you think your stomach can handle it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Bucky said, his stomach seeming to have settled from it’s violent churning hours ago. He turned around and got two plates out of the cupboard and two forks from the drawer. As you dished up the steaming food, Bucky got the kettle ready for tea afterwards. He opened the kitchen window in order to let the smell of grease out of the room before making his way to the table where you sat with one plate in front of you and the empty seat across from you had his plate waiting for him. Bucky took a bite of the potato pancakes and instantly moaned. He had never tasted latkes as good as his before, and they weren’t even necessarily his when he made them since he was just following his mothers recipe.

“Gosh, doll. I haven’t tasted latkes this good in a long time, where did you learn to make them?” Bucky asked between bites genuinely curious.

“Oh, just an old friend. He usually did the cooking, but I guess I was able to pick this up. Helps that it’s super easy.” You said while looking down at your plate. Bucky nodded his head. You both ate in companionable silence until Bucky stood and grabbed both empty plates heading to the sink and turning on the kettle. You followed him waiting beside him to dry the dishes. Bucky had finished washing the pan and was handing it to you when a breeze through the window blew across your skin. All Bucky could smell was lilacs, just like in his dream.

The taste of peppermint was on his tongue as it ran across lips Bucky could only compare to rose petals. The scent of lilacs clung to her skin, she had told him before it was an oil she used instead of using perfume, Bucky loved it. The noises he could pull from her body spurring him on. She could get drunk off his kiss and it drove him wild. He loved how absolutely wrecked she could be by him just ravaging her with his mouth as if they were teenagers. She cards her fingers through his hair, tugging it at the roots in the back that causes Bucky to release the most delicious growl that sends pleasure straight to her core. Bucky opens his eyes to be met with yours. He could get lost in your eyes and be perfectly content doing so. Bucky latches his mouth to the spot just below your ear that makes your toes curl, sucking a mark there. When he pulls away his lips are only centimeters away from your ear, his breath ghosting the shell of it.

“Love you so much, Y/N. Never want this to end.”

“I love you too, Bucky. Love the way you touch me, hold me, the way you love me.” You gasp out in an airy breath, pulling away to look him in the eyes before resting your forehead on his. Just enjoying his closeness. Tears gathered in your eyes. You were terrified of losing him, he could see it. Bucky kissed away your tears.

“Voi fi mereu cu tine, păpușă. Mă pot lua de aici, dar nu-mi pot lua inima de lângă tine.” (I will always be with you, doll. They can take me away, but they can never take my heart away from you.)

Bucky’s head spun as he was pulled out of the memory. His stomach was twisting more violently than it had been the day before. Memories of him and the woman, you, flooded in and out of his mind. Hushed claims of love under the moonlight, the smell of an old bookstore, the crackling sound of a fire, the taste of peppermint, and the smell of sandalwood and lilacs. Everything hit him all at once, the most vivid memory being the one where his lips unite with yours, over and over again.

“Сирень” (Lilacs) you heard Bucky whisper.

“I, what?” You said in confusion.

“Ich erinnere mich, dass ich dich liebte...” (I remember loving you…) Bucky’s voice began to raise, his eyes still unfocused as if he weren’t seeing what was in front of him. Before you knew it, you were no longer crouched in front of Bucky where he had slid down to the floor. You were on your butt and Bucky was pacing in front of you yelling in languages you didn’t understand, but you could tell it was more than one from what Bucky had tried to teach you at one point.

“Это был ты все это время? Я поцеловала тебя? Почему я не помню, что это был ты до сих пор?” (It was you this whole time? I kissed you? Why couldn't I remember it was you until now?) Bucky yelled.

“James!” Bucky flinched at the use of his name and it seemed to bring him out of his trance. “Don’t yell at me in languages I don’t understand.”

“I-I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?” Bucky spoke softly, his voice small and the broken look in his eyes made your stomach twist unpleasantly. “Did the others- did they know?” Bucky added, his mind spiraling.

“No, no one knew. That was one of the things you warned me against when we were together. I nearly told Steve, but I just, I couldn’t. I didn’t even know if he would believe me if I did, or if they would take you away from me, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again. I’d rather have you and you not know me, than not have you at all.” You said, drawing your knees to your chest. You had come to accept the fact that you would probably never have your Bucky back.

“But, when I met you, you smelled like lavender.” The puzzled look on his face caused you to chuckle. This is the man that looked at you more times than you could count, knew you better both times than you knew yourself, and the oils you used as perfumes is what had kept him from connecting the dots? You broke out into laughter and the ludicrousness of it all became apparent to you. You didn’t stop laughing until you felt Bucky’s finger hook gently beneath your chin. His blue eyes calming your mind.

“I- every time I used it I thought of you, it became too painful. Then I read somewhere that lavender is supposed to be stress relieving, I never switched back when you came here because I figured maybe it would help you. You seemed so tense and skittish when you came here, and you seemed to relax around me that I thought maybe it really did work.” This time it was Bucky’s turn to let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Doll, I relaxed around you because of who you are. You just have that effect on me.”

“Oh.” You said, your eyes widening. Bucky’s eyes looked from yours to your lips and back again before leaning in just a tad.

“Can I kiss you, doll?” Bucky rasped in a husky voice. Yours fists found purchase on his t-shirt and you tugged him towards you. The second your lips met you both let out a satisfying groan. Your lips tasted better than they had in any dream. This time they were real.

[averagemarvelbitch]

PROMPT LIST CHALLENGE

Challenging myself to write 50 short stories based on a prompts list.

1. “We’re not just friends and you know it”.

Alternate Universe / Stony

Warning: There is a scene where someone exposes someone else’s sexuality and I tried to make it clear that’s NEVER okay. I hope I succeeded.

Tony just couldn’t understand. He tried, God knows he tried, but he couldn’t seem to grasp why Steve would want to keep this, them, a secret.

They had been together for two years now. Tony remembered the day they met like it was yesterday. Rhodey got tired of his roommates shenanigans ― Tony had been in a “inventing spree” for three days, which meant little food, smelly clothes and very deep dark circles under his eyes ― and decided enough was enough. He took Tony by the ear ― literally, he might add ― and locked him in the bathroom until he took a shower, shaved and put on clean clothes. When he resembled a normal person again, Rhodey took him out to a party to get some air, see some people, you’re gonna go crazy in there all alone with your bots, man.

The party was a typical frat party. Lots of booze, lots of people, lots of chances to hook up. And it was there Tony met Steve. He had been in a corner, looking around like he wanted to be anywhere else but there, drinking beer from a plastic cup. Years after, Tony would swear to anyone that it was love at first sight. The minute he saw Steve standing there, with his way too small white shirt, and his blue pants, and his hair looking like freaking Johnny Bravo, he knew he had found the one… The one to spend many nights under the sheets doing things that would make a very experienced hooker blush.

So Tony approached him carefully. He’d learned the hard way to never assume a guy was, well, interested in guys. Straight men could be real dick heads about getting hit on by another man. So he introduced himself with a smile, asked for Steve’s name, which he promptly gave, and they started talking. As the party went on, they talked about everything… college, parents, favorite movies, favorite food, how cool is the new Star Wars movie, and on and on. At one point, Tony asked if Steve was interested in going somewhere private. They ended up in Steve’s apartment, with a very satisfied Tony being thoroughly fucked against a wall.

It could have been just a fling. They could have parted ways the next morning with a very sore ass ― in Tony’s case ― and a wonderful memory to cherish. But Tony woke up to the smell of coffee and freshly baked bagels and went to the kitchen, only to find a very naked Steve wearing a Captain America apron. Needless to say, breakfast was forgotten as Tony sucked Steve’s cock right there on the floor and the blond moaned his name until he came in Tony’s throat.

After that, they would meet regularly. Sometimes, when Steve had a bad day at work or had had a particularly difficult assignment, he would call Tony and they would watch a movie, eat Chinese food and fuck on every available surface in the small apartment. Other times, when Tony was frustrated with some new invention that just wouldn’t work the way he wanted or angry at the fact that every single person in MIT was too goddamn stupid, Steve, I swear to God, he would show up unannounced, already taking his clothes off as soon as the blond opened the door, and he would forget all of this troubles as Steve tore him apart, kissing every inch of his body and pressing him roughly against the mattress as he slammed his cock inside Tony again and again and again until the brunette was covered in cum, murmuring nonsense as he came back from his high, completely and utterly satisfied.

But it wasn’t just sex. They would do other things too. Every week, they’d rent a movie and watch it while cuddling on the sofa. Sometimes, they’d go out for a walk and have hot dogs at the park, or go to Howie’s and have cheeseburgers with fries. They did many couples thing and so, really, no one could blame Tony for thinking they were, in fact, a couple, even though they’d never said it out loud. Maybe Steve didn’t like labels or whatever, but they were definitely dating. Or so Tony thought.

Six months after that party ― and a LOT of mind blowing sex ― Tony begun to notice some things. It all started on a fateful Tuesday. He’d had a very bad day, full of uninteresting classes and way too many assignments due next week, not to mention the lovely phone call he’d gotten from his father earlier, in which, as usual, Howard specified every single thing that was wrong with Tony in a very disappointed voice. All the engineer wanted was to see Steve, to cuddle with him on his very uncomfortable couch and watch bad TV while complaining about everyone and everything as Steve hugged him and stroked his hair. A perfect night for a otherwise shitty day, he thought as he knocked on the door.

Only, when Steve opened the door, he didn’t immediately invite Tony in, which was odd on itself. He kept the door somewhat closed and, when he smiled, it looked more like a grimace than a actually “happy to see you” smile.

“Hey Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony looked very confused for a moment.

“Uh… I… had a shitty day, thought we could watch crappy TV and eat some Mexican food. Are you… Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine”, he answered, taking a quick look inside before turning to Tony, the door still almost closed, as if he was afraid Tony might just walk in if he opened it a little bit more.

“Ok… Can I come in, then?”

“Uh, you know what, I have a friend over, so maybe we could meet another ti…”

“Hey, Stevie, who’s at the door?” a voice asked from inside the apartment.

In a second, the floor flew open, revealing another man. He was tall, with a prosthetic arm, a beard and long hair, pulled together in a bun on the top of his head. But Tony didn’t pay much attention to any of that. He was too busy staring at the pained look in Steve’s face.

“Oh, hey, I’m Bucky”, the guy said, offering his hand.

“Uh, I’m…”, Tony started to say, but a desperate Steve interrupted him immediately.

“This is Tony. He’s a friend from MIT”.

“Oh, cool, you wanna come in? We’re just gonna play some Call of Duty and chill”.

“He can’t stay. Maybe some other time, right Tony?” Steve interrupted again, looking at Tony with a desperate look on his face.

And Tony had to admit. That hurt him worse than a kick in the balls. He had heard about Bucky, of course, he was in every single one of Steve’s stories. But it was obvious that Bucky had never heard of him. Who doesn’t tell their best friend about their boyfriend?, Tony thought. But that was the thing, wasn’t it. Steve hadn’t introduced him as his boyfriend or his partner, he had introduced him as a friend. Not only that, but he was desperate to see Tony gone as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh, I was just passing by and I gotta… I gotta go now, so… Yeah, sorry to bother you, Steve, I guess I’ll see you around”, as he said the words, Tony was very aware that he sounded like a kicked puppy, but he couldn’t help it. Without waiting for a reply, he just turned his back to Steve and his friend and got the hell out of there.

That night, he got fifteen calls from Steve, three voicemails and a dozen texts. He ignored all of them. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all Steve. He was deeply hurt and had never felt so stupid in his entire life. Of course they weren’t dating. Tony should have seen it coming. He laid there on his bed and remembered every single moment he spent with Steve out in the open. They never held hands when they were in public. They never hugged, never kissed, shit, even when they went to those restaurants, Steve never even sat close to him. He always kept his distance, and at first Tony thought he was just one of those guys who didn’t like PDAs, but now he knew better.  Steve just didn’t want anyone to know he was fucking Tony. He didn’t want people to figure out he was involved with someone like Tony. And honestly, who could blame him? Tony was aware of who he was. Howard had never let him forget it. Lazy, good for nothing, never got anything right. And his last two boyfriends, Justin and Ty, had both agreed wholeheartedly with Howard’s opinion on his son. So why would Steve be any different? He should have known. It was stupid of him to think anyone would want him for anything more than just sex. And so Tony spent the whole night hating himself.

The next morning, Steve came over. Tony met him outside of his building while he was getting out with Rhodey. He told his best friend to go along without him, that he and Steve needed to talk. Rhodey wasn’t happy about it, but left anyway, although not without giving Steve the nastiest look first.

Steve looked devastated. “Tony, look, I’m so sorry”.

“For what?”

“For being a dick to you last night. For introducing you as just my friend. I know that really hurt you and I’m so sorry”.

“Nah”, Tony denied, gesturing with his hand as if the whole thing was no big deal, “It’s fine, I mean, what are you going to do, introduce me to everyone as your fuck buddy? That would be awkward, right?”

Steve looked like he’d been slapped when Tony said “fuck buddies”.

“You’re not… Tony, you know you’re not… that… to me”.

“Really? So what am I, Steve?”

“You’re… Shit, listen… I’m… I’m in love with you, Tony, I really am. I never met anyone like you in my entire life and you make me so happy and all I want is to make you as happy as you make me. But… I can’t tell my friends. They don’t know I’m…”, he stopped talking all of a sudden, looking around like he’s afraid someone might hear him, before whispering the last word, “…gay”.

Tony didn’t know how to react. He remembered when he first came out to his parents as bisexual. His mother thought it was just a phase, something that would pass with time. Howard, on the other hand, almost ripped him a new one. He screamed for hours, called Tony every name in the book, told him he was a disgrace to the Stark name and so on and so on. It was horrible. Then he thought about Rhodey and how terrified he’d been when the older boy caught him in a compromising position with Tiberion Stone. He looked livid. He threw Tiberion out of the apartment and he was so angry Tony actually thought Rhodey might hit him or something. And then he started screaming. And Tony almost burst into tears out of sheer relief. What the hell are you doing with that asshole, Tony? Seriously, he punched his last boyfriend in the face, man, in the middle of a party. There’s no fucking way I’m letting you date that abusive asshole, you hear me? He was worried. About Tony. Not angry that Tony was dating a man and hadn’t told him, just worried about his safety. So, you’re not mad?, Tony had asked with a small voice. I’m mad about a lot of things you do, Tony, like leaving the freaking screwdrivers in the middle of my living room or drinking the fucking milk straight for the carton. But I’ll never be mad about who you are, man. I can promise you that.

So Tony got it. He did, really. The fear of coming out and not being accepted, of losing the people close to you because they can’t accept this very important part of you. And he really did like Steve. Like he never liked anyone before in his life. So he made a decision.

And so, for the past two years, much to Rhodey’s displeasure, Steve and Tony had been secretly seeing each other. Bucky, and his girlfriend, Natasha, knew Tony only as “Steve’s friend from MIT” and seemed to think nothing of it. Sometimes, Natasha would try to set Steve up with one of her friends, and Steve would politely decline while saying he just didn’t have the time for that. And it killed a little bit of Tony when it happened, but he would stand there, every time, a fake smile on his face as he pretended to be Steve’s very straight friend.

And it had worked. It wasn’t ideal, and Tony hated it, but he loved Steve and he was willing to suffer if it meant they could be together. Everything worked fine. Until today.

They were at Steve’s apartment. It was his birthday. All of his friends were there. Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Thor. He’d invited some of Tony’s friends as well, like Bruce, Rhodey and Pepper. They had beer, vodka, pizza and a huge cake with “Happy Birthday, Dumbass” written in icing, courtesy of Bucky. It was all good, until Natasha came over and started talking.

There were in the kitchen when it happened. Pepper, Rhodey and Bucky were opening pizza boxes and getting paper plates, and Steve was sitting on the counter, drinking a beer while talking to Tony, when Natasha showed up.

“So, Steve, I just talked to Sharon. She said she had a great time. Are you taking her out again or what?”

Immediately, the room got quiet. Pepper and Rhodey, who were both very aware of Steve and Tony’s secret relationship, turned to look at Tony, who looked like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“What date?”, he asked quietly, looking at Steve.

“It’s nothing, just…”

“You went out with someone?”, Tony asked again, the pain now clear in his voice.

“Yeah, but just to make Nat… No, wait, Tony, stop”, he said, jumping down from the counter, but Tony was already leaving the kitchen.

He ran after him and grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from leaving the house. The others ran after them, stopping at the door, while Clint, Bruce and Thor, who were at the couch playing videogames, stopped and looked at them, confused.

“LET ME GO, I’M DONE WITH THIS. I’M DONE, STEVE. YOU WANNA HIDE YOUR WHOLE LIFE, THAT’S FINE, BUT I’M FUCKING DONE BEING YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET”, Tony screamed, pushing Steve away from him.

“Wait, what. Are you guys…?” Clint started asking, looking even more confused.

“NO, we’re just friends”, Steve tried to explain, but Tony’d had enough.

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it”, he shouted, tears coming down his face now, “I tried to be understanding, I tried to give you time, but FUCK YOU, STEVE. WE’RE DONE”.

And with that, Tony left, Pepper and Rhodey right after him.

It took Tony almost two weeks to even resemble a functioning human being again. In that time, he had cried on his bed every single day, unable to hold it in, as either Rhodey or Pepper sat there by his side, stroking his hair while whispering that everything was going to be okay. Tony didn’t believe them. How could anything ever be okay again? Steve had kept him as a dirty little secret no one could ever find out about, cuddling with him at night, whispering “I love you” again and again in his ear, all the while going out with whoever Natasha set him up. It hurt. It hurt so bad Tony honestly didn’t think he could recover from it.

Natasha had called as well. She apologized for setting Steve up with someone else, berating herself for not noticing anything was amiss before. Tony forgave her, of course. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. His fault for believing in Steve, for thinking he could have this. That he could actually be happy.

But after two weeks of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, Tony decided he needed to get back to his life. Steve already ruined my love life, he thought, a bit dramatically, not gonna let him ruin my academic life as well. So, on a Monday, he got up, got dressed, and left the apartment, somewhat ready to face the day. And found Steve sitting on the ground, just outside his building, with a bouquet of flowers on his hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, Tony exclaimed, surprised.

Steve, who was staring at the ground looking miserable, suddenly looked up when he heard Tony’s voice and immediately got up.

“Hi”, he whispered, “I’ve been coming here every day, waiting for you to come out”.

“Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“I did”, he said, grimacing, “Rhodey broke my nose and told me to get lost both times”.

“Good”, Tony replied, satisfied, even though deep down he felt a little sorry for Steve.

“Look, Tony, please, just let me say this. And when I’m finished, if you want me to go away and never come back, I will, I promise. Please”.

He was begging. He looked so sad and so lost, Tony’s heart melted a little. So, he crossed his arms and waited for Steve to talk.

“I… I know I hurt you. Bad. And I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for causing you so much pain, Tony, really. You were right. The problem was me. Deep down, I knew my ma wouldn’t care if I was gay. And I know Bucky and the others wouldn’t care either. I just… I don’t know, I had this idea in my head that it was different with me, you know. That it was okay for Clint to be gay, but if they found out I was? They would hate me. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did”.

Tony looked away for a moment and exhaled, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry for exposing you like that. That wasn’t cool. You should be able to come out on your own terms and I took that from you. I exposed you to your friends when you clearly weren’t ready to come clean. I’m really sorry about that. It was a dick move”.

“Yeah, it was”, Steve replied, with a huffed laugh, “But I get it. You spent two years hiding for me, Tony. Two years pretending and trusting that I would get the courage to come out one day, and then you find out I went out with some girl. I get how much that hurt you, because if it was me in your place, and I heard you went out with someone else, I’d be devastated. But I need you to know this. Nothing happened. I swear. We ate, we talked, she went home. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t even hug. I just did it so Natasha would leave me alone, you know”.

“Yeah, I get it. I guess we both screwed up”.

Steve nodded, looking down at the flowers in his hand.

“I’m seeing a therapist. She’s helping me with this idea I had in my head, you know. That it’s okay for other people to be who they are, but not for me. I’m getting better”.

“That’s good, Steve”, Tony replied, “I’m happy for you”, he said and he meant it.

“I just… I know it’s a lot to ask, but… Can we try again? I’ll be better this time, I promise. I just… I love you. And I miss you so much. Please”, he whispered, looking at Tony with a pained look.

And Tony thought about it. He remembered every happy moment he had with Steve, and how much he loved him. They had hurt each other, he knew, but they could get past it. He knew they could. So he smiled and took the flowers from Steve’s hand, holding them to his chest.

“How about this time we start with a date?”

And, in that moment, Steve’s smile could light up the entire city.

[spdersilk]

Sunburn

Summary: bucky is smitten and so are you. one sunburn later and y’all have some “fondue” (i tried to make it rhyme but it didn’t work)

Pairing(s): bucky barnes x reader

Requests: open!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): swearing, fluff

It was hot. It was ridiculously hot. The California heat seemed to be extraordinary oppressive this morning and all Bucky could think of was ways to make his metal arm not accidentally brush against his skin. He had made that mistake four times this morning.  Tony had decided it was essential for the Avengers to take a getaway trip for the sake of sanity. Bucky called bullshit,  clearly aware that Tony was postponing yet another Avengers meeting with Ross and Fury. Not that he minded.The team had spent the last month communicating with officials nearly everyday to organize plans, substantiate future missions, and debrief every and any inquiries from Maria Hill. The vacation was well deserved. But the climate made it feel more like a spa day gone wrong than a relaxing day at the beach. 

“Where’s Nat? I thought she and Y/N were going to get the drinks.” Sam grumbled, rubbing more sunscreen on. 

“She said that 20 minutes ago. I bet they’re lounging in the bar. I know Tony’s making drinks over there.” Steve added, sinking deeper into his sun chair. Bucky turned around and squinted. Surely enough the two women sat perched on two bar-stools, entertaining Tony. The drinks were long forgotten. 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Bucky muttered. Steve turned around before groaning.

“Hey what’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Sam asked, turning towards Bucky. Steve raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky stated, looking away. Steve looked at Sam in confusion.

“There’s something going on with Y/N and Bucky?”

Bucky pursed his lips. There wasn’t anything going on...necessarily. Bucky had developed a “small attraction” towards his team mate and there was nothing wrong with that. Until Sam found out. Bucky still regretted that day, thinking of a million different ways it could have gone with an outcome that was completely different. Sadly, no matter how much he dreamed, reality sucked and Sam would never not be a dick.

Y/N had just finished training with Natasha and was eager to ravage the fridge for anything that would satisfy her seemingly unquenchable appetite. Bucky sat on the sofa, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Do you want me to turn on the television? I’m sure it’ll be way more interesting to stare at than just a blank screen.” Y/N said, smiling lightly. Bucky blinked, now noticing the blank television.

“I was just thinking.” He replied, blushing lightly. He had been pondering about her and how exactly he would ask her out. This was much easier back in the 40s.

“Ahh. Do you want anything from the fridge?” Y/N asked, turning towards the kitchen. Bucky couldn’t restrain his eyes from checking out the rest of her figure. He was so utterly drawn to her that he was sure she could make anything look beautiful. She turned around at his lack of response. Bucky flushed.

“Just a bottle of water.” 

Y/N hummed in response and Bucky began to panic. It’s now or never Barnes. He got up quickly, his mind set on asking her out. He didn’t realize a familiar well built man with a smirk waltz into the room. 

“Y/N, I was wondering if you would wanna-”

“Hey manchurian candidate, whatcha got there?” 

Bucky froze. That son of a bitch. He looked at Sam, his eyes narrowing at him. Sam looked at Y/N before looking back at Bucky, the wheels in his mind turning. He knows.

“A water bottle.” Bucky said between his teeth.

“Y/N, could you toss me a granola bar?” Sam asked, his shit eating grin only widening. Bucky only had one wish at that moment: make Sam Wilson disappear.

“Sure. Bucky, what were you saying?” Y/N asked, tossing Sam a bar. 

“I was thinking we could-”

“Oh my god, was he going to tell you how I walked in on him watching porn? Dear god-” Sam barked out in laughter. Bucky stared wide eyed, absolutely mortified.

“What?” Y/N asked, clearly bewildered.

“I walked in on Bucky watching porn. It was hilarious and traumatizing.” Sam snickered. Bucky tried to speak, but his voice betrayed him and all he could do was watch the horrifying scene unravel before him. He looked at Y/N, his eyes almost pleading her not to believe Sam. She let out a small chuckle, clearly uncomfortable. Bucky had never wanted to kill Sam more than he did in that moment.

“That’s great um. I’ll sit this story out, see ya guys later.”

Bucky shook his head at the memory, the embarrassment still causing him to blush. 

“No, Sam just likes to make up things.” Bucky mumbled. 

“I do not! Old man’s just saying that because he’s sad he hasn’t gotten a kiss since 19-”

“Are you asking for a black eye, because I am not afraid-”

“Guys settle down. Has it really been that long since you’ve kissed someone Buck?” Steve asked, clearly amused. Bucky looked away, his lips pressing into a fine line.

“No.”

“Liar!”

“Who’s lying about what?” 

Natasha and Y/N suddenly came into view, a cooler in both of their hands. Steve let out a sigh of relief, violently taking the box from Natasha’s hand.

“Easy there. You’re acting as if we were gone for an eternity.” She said, taking a seat at the edge of Steve’s sun chair.

“That’s because you guys were gone for an eternity.” Bucky grumbled, cracking open a Milwaukee beer. Y/N took a seat beside him.

“You guys are a bunch of divas. And who’s a liar?” She asked, crossing her legs. 

“Frozen Popsicle No.2 over there hasn’t gotten a good ol’ smooch since the 20th century.” Sam crooned, making kissing faces at Bucky. Using his metal arm, Bucky grabbed Sam’s bicep causing him to shriek. Steve immediately set the fire out. 

“I highly doubt that.” Y/N said, popping a pistachio in her mouth. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

“Look at you. Who wouldn’t want to make out with you?” She stated before freezing. The four of them stared at her, their gazes unwavering. Y/N shrugged sheepishly.

“Just putting it out there.” She whispered, taking a giant sip of her beer. Bucky stared at her for another moment before clearing his throat. 

“Alright you two...save the sex eyes for later. I actually want to enjoy the vacation while it lasts.” Sam quipped, causing them to laugh. 

Bucky couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind the rest of the day. He distanced himself from Y/N as much as he could, convincing himself her words were out of pity. He wasn’t aware that the distance hurt her or that she pined for him the same way. 

“You’ve got a sun burn.”

Bucky shook slightly, looking to the side. Y/N stood there, her eyes peering at his chest. He was still shirtless, opting to not change because of the hot weather. He looked down at his chest, touching at the burnt skin before wincing. 

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She muttered, disappearing into the corridor. Bucky’s heart began to pound. Is she not weirded out by me? After Sam’s little stunt three days ago? And then earlier today? Bucky took a seat on the kitchen chair. She came back with a first aid kit and got to her knees. 

“This is going to hurt a bit.” Y/N said softly, squeezing out a white cream on to her hand. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He said, smiling slightly. She chuckled, slowly applying the cream to his chest. He didn’t wince, simply staring at her as she worked Bucky swore Y/N was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. If he had wanted to kiss anyone, surely it would be her. Hell, when he thought of the word intimacy, he thought of her. Her and the lazy smile she would give him in the mornings when he made her coffee. Her and the chocolate chip pancakes she would make for him because Steve told her it reminded him of his ma. Her listening to everything Peter had to say about Star Wars when Tony was too busy in the lab. Her helping Wanda with her emotional trauma. Her looking out for the team when they stopped taking care of themselves. He swallowed thickly. It was so hard to not fall in love with her. She made it as easy as breathing. 

“You’re staring.” Y/N said, glancing at Bucky. He didn’t reply, simply raising a finger to push her hair behind her ear.

“And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He mumbled, not caring if he confessed his feelings. Her breath stopped short and she gazed at him for a moment. His eyes were raw with emotion, a clear cerulean blue intensely gazing at her. Y/N looked down, carefully cleaning her hand with a wipe.

“You’re being coy.” She whispered, trying not to let his close proximity affect her. She was failing. He grasped her hand slowly, urging her to look at him.

“I am being honest, doll.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, her eyes searching his face for some kind of sign. But it was clear. He was smitten and it showed. She couldn’t hold herself back. Not now.

“You really haven’t kissed a girl in that long?”

“That embarrassing huh?” He asked, chuckling. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She looked down, not wanting to face the possible impending rejection on his face.

“Can I kiss you?” She mumbled. He almost sighed in relief.

“Please.”

And then their lips were molding against each other. Bucky couldn’t suppress the sigh he was holding in. Each opened mouth kiss conveyed the longing that they both felt. His veins were filled with adrenaline. The mere idea of tasting her lips was enough to drive him crazy but right now, he could barely restrain himself. He pulled her onto his lap, cupping her cheeks like it was the last thing he would ever hold dear to his heart. She snagged at the ends of his hair, allowing to him groan against her mouth. The kiss was erotic and nothing like the soft and slow kiss Y/N dreamed it would be. Eventually the two of them stopped for air, leaning against each other. 

“You could have asked me a lot sooner, ya know?” He panted, smiling dazedly at her. She rolled her eyes, leaning her head on his neck.

“Don’t get cocky now.” She mumbled.

“Oh and for the record, I was not watching porn.” Bucky stated, absentmindedly drawing shapes on her hip.

“And what were you watching?”

“Probably Dora the Explorer, or some shit.” Sam piped up. Bucky and Y/N jumped at the intrusion, immediately scrambling away from each other.

“Don’t act all Virgin Mary with me, I saw the sex eyes earlier. You two need to keep it at a minimum.” Sam grumbled before waltzing out of the room, leaving the two love sick birds to their selves.

[blaithinwrites]

Hey this is purple_ducky00 from ao3, and I'm just gonna submit my winteriron ficlet idea... someone (idc who) cheats on Tony and he starts to doubt his self-worth. Luckily, there is someone (Bucky) who can convince him of the opposite. I'm a huge fan of angst with a happy ending 😊😊😊

 Pairings; Bucky/Tony, mentions of Tiberius Stone/Tony Stark

Warnings: Past abusive relationship between Tiberius/Tony, references to one-night stands, sex, alcoholism, Howard Stark, infidelity 

Cross the Line

Bucky woke up naked.

With an 800-thread-count cotton sheet beneath him, it wasn’t anawful experience. The equally bare form curled up next him, soft and inviting,wasn’t bad either.

Bucky glanced down at the dark head pressed into his shoulder.Tony slept like the dead, slept as he had never had a good night’s sleep in hislife. The first time they had done this, Bucky had laid awake for ages, notwanting to jostle and disturb Tony’s sleep. God knew the man needed everyminute he could get.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Bucky said softly, mouthbrushing against dark hair.

“Mmhhh,” Tony mumbled, eyes still shut.

Gently unlatching the tan arm that had been thrown over him duringthe night, Bucky slid out from the bed. At the movement Tony made adisappointed noise, forehead crinkling unhappily, and rolled over, folding uptight into himself and disappearing into the dark sheets.

For a moment Bucky thought about getting back in bed and gatheringthe man to himself, of comforting him. But their relationship wasn’t like that.It was, as Tony had been quick to emphasise, a purely physical relationship. Aone-night stand that had somehow become two, three, four nights in as many weeks.Bucky sometimes wanted more, hungered for more than brief nights together. Butit didn’t matter, it wasn’t what Tony wanted and Bucky tried to be happy withwhat was offered.

Bucky padded into the apartment kitchen, still slightlyoverwhelmed by the displays of wealth around him. Bucky usually avoided richcity boys, finding them almost universally unbearable. But Tony hadn’t lookedparticularly wealthy that first night at Bucky’s favourite dive bar: nursingbottom shelf whiskey in a rumpled white shirt and water-logged shoes.  The rain had ruined whatever hairstyle Tonyhad been going for and dark curls had tumbled wildly around sharp cheekbones.His mouth had been swollen, cherry red and inviting against his pale, chilledskin. His eyes molten in his face.

Bucky had rarely seen a man so beautiful or so sad.

They ended up at Bucky’s apartment. Mostly, because Bucky’sapartment was across the bar and Bucky had been ready to tear Tony’s clothesoff in public if he had to wait much longer. In hindsight, he wondered whatTony thought about his roach-infested bedsit but Tony hadn’t said anything,seemingly content with the lumpy mattress and peeling wallpaper.

Tony kissed like he was preparing for a fight, fucked like he wastrying to punish himself. Afterward, they fell asleep curled up together, Tonyslotting perfectly into the circle of his arms, fingers skimming his metal armwith a strange, religious reverence. Bucky had mostly come to terms with theloss of his arm, accepted himself for what he had become but he knew the metalarm made people uncomfortable; that his bed partners found it uncomfortable totouch.

“No; it’s beautiful,” Tony mumbled, pulling the arm back when hadBucky tried to turn away. He was half asleep, eyelids closed. No one had evercalled Bucky’s arm beautiful before.

Their one-night stand should have been exactly that. Theycertainly hadn’t exchanged numbers the next morning and yet somehow, they hadrun into each other again. Bucky had been filling in for Steve as a waiter atsome charity event and Tony had been having a drinking vodka out of a flask inthe disabled toilet.

“Well, this is fucking awkward,” Tony said, mouth twisting up intosomething that would have been a sneer if his pupils hadn’t been blown widewith panic, his hands shaking.

Bucky reached out and took the flash from Tony’s hands, taking onelong, slow swig; Tony’s eyes locked onto his exposed throat, following the movementof his Adam’s apple. Bucky sighed and gave the flashback to Tony, “Tastes likehell, Darling.”

They fucked right there, Tony’s face pressed up into the greasesmeared bathroom mirror and afterward Tony took Bucky home and they madethemselves similarly acquainted to the unused polished oak dining room table.It was the next morning that Bucky realised Tony’s apartment was a ManhattanPenthouse. Tony had been passed out, impossible to wake no matter what Buckydid. After a while, Bucky decided that if Tony was as rich as he seemed, thenhe wouldn’t notice if Bucky made himself breakfast before leaving.  Thus, had begun a strange routine where Buckymade himself breakfast and brought Tony coffee in bed and for an hour or twothey existed in an unspoken, undefined bubble of familiar domesticity beforeTony remembered this was a one night stand and asked Bucky to leave.

Bucky shook himself out of his thoughts and peered into thefridge. As always it was a pitiful sight, a half-drunk bottle of milk. A congealedtub of Chinese take-a-way and some eggs. There were a few wilting vegetables onthe side and Bucky took them and the eggs and sent a little prayer to whatevergod was watching that this didn’t kill him.

For a moment Bucky considering eating his omelette by the sink asusual and then decided to take the food back to bed, balancing the plate andTony’s oversized coffee mug as he opened the bedroom door with his foot. Tonycracked open an eyelid as Bucky slipped back into bed.

“Are you bringing crumbs into my bed? Tony asked sleepily, handsalready reaching out eagerly for the coffee.

“Hopefully not. But you should help me eat it, to be sure.” Buckyheld out a fork, hovering before Tony’s mouth.

Tony was low in the bed, mostly flat on his back, head tilted upto look at Bucky in a way that made his big, dark eyes even bigger. Hehesitated, his expression uncertain. The type of expression that made Buckythink he hadn’t seen a used to a lot of small gestures of kindness.

There were faint, fading clues scattered about the penthouse thatTony hadn’t been alone long. A worn toothbrush abandoned next to Tony’s, a toobig coat gathering dust by the door. A forgotten post-stick note left near thewindow with a message: ‘Tony, I’m going to be late. Don’t wait up.’ Thedecaying remains of a relationship.

Bucky didn’t mention it but when Tony looked like that – wary inthe face of kindness, a dog beaten too many times – he wanted to find the ownerof that coat and hurt them.

Tony opened his mouth warily and Bucky slipped the omelette intohis mouth, laughing as Tony’s eyes lit up.

“I know, I’m the full package,” Bucky said and Tony smiled, eyescrinkling in happiness.

The moment was broken abruptly: a series of bangs echoing loudly,shattering their lazy morning.

Tony glanced at Bucky in disappointment and then slipped out ofbed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt. Bucky stayed in bed, finishing theomelette, as Tony made his way across the apartment towards the front door.Whoever had decided to disturb Tony was still pounding away and had taken toshouting Tony’s name, unable to wait the few minutes it took Tony to answer.

“Ty!” Tony’s voice was shocked, high pitched and choked sounded.Bucky hadn’t heard Tony sound like that before and he looked up curiously,tilting his head so he had could see Tony and the unexpected guest.

The man at Tony’s door was tall, impeccably, richly dressed withslicked back blonde hair and a shark’s smile “Tony, you look tired.” He said ingreeting, pressing forward into the apartment.

“Ty…. Tiberius…..”

“That is my name – sharp as always, Tony,” Tiberius replied. Hisvoice was light, joking but there was something in the way Tony seemed to beshrinking, cowering in the face of his jokes that made Bucky’s hackles rise.Tiberius took another step forward. “Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

Tony gaped. “Why are you here Ty?”

“What I can’t come to see my boyfriend?”

Bucky stopped breathing. He dropped the plate into the sheets,uncaring about the mess and sat frozen in bed. For one second, Bucky almostbelieved: this was the reason Tony was so unwilling to discuss anything moreserious, he already had something serious with someone else. Bucky leanedforward, trying to catch Tony’s face, to see the truth on his features. Therewas nothing.

“We are not together!” Tony snapped, his voice cracking. He washalf tucked behind the front door clutching it in front of him like a shield,his jaw twitching nervously.

“Of course we are,”Tiberius levelled a cool stare down at Tony and pushed the door away, forcingit out of Tony’s hand and exposing Tony. Tony took a step back into theapartment and Tiberius followed easily, stalking him. Tiberius smiled, hisvoice honey smooth, soothing. “Look I know things have been hard for youlately. But we love each other, we can’t let something this small, ruin that –”

“You cheated on me.”

The words were so quiet that Bucky wasn’t sure he heard them.Tiberius didn’t seem to because he continued talking without pause, surgingforward with his proclamation of love and how things were meant to be. Tiberiusreached out to Tony and Tony slapped the man away with a snarl.

“You cheated on me!” Tony repeated, his voice loud, broken. “Icaught you, remember, in our bed with Sunset. She was meant to be my friend!You laughed when you saw me crying!”

Bucky had got to his feet, his hand clutching the doorknob. Itgroaned in protest, bent from the sudden hot rage that filled him. He toldhimself to stay where he was, that this was none of his business and Tonywouldn’t thank him for interfering.

The smiling expression slid off Tiberius’s face: a mask fallingaway to reveal the truth beneath. His features were hard, carved, emotionlessmarble like. “Oh stop being so emotional, Tony. It’s embarrassing.” He said andmoved past and around Tony, like a shark circling his prey. “I did you afavour, I showed you what Sunset was really like. You should be thanking me.”

“Fuck off.” Tony hissed, defiant. He had twisted around to keepTiberius in his eyesight and ended up with his back to the wall, cornered.“Don’t try to pretend this was a gesture of altruism. You like just likeplaying with me.”

Tiberius grinned, his mouth wide and full of sharp white teeth. Hesurged forward, pressing one hand near Tony’s head and looming over the darkman.

“Playing with you is so much fun, Anthony. It’s pretty much theonly thing that is. You’re an embarrassment: your drinking, your insecurity.Don’t think I haven’t noticed that hickey on your neck, you cheap slut.”

Tony slapped a hand to neck, voiceless and cringing at the onslaught.Tiberius leant in close, his mouth almost touching Tony’s cringing face. “Yourfather was right about you, you’re a disappointment. Who else would ever wantyou?”

“I would.”

Tiberius turned just in time to see Bucky’s fist arching downtowards his face.

The blow knocked the pale-haired man off his feet, sending himtumbling to the floor at Tony’s feet. Bucky reached out, taking Tony by the armand pulling him away from his cringing position against the wall, pushing himbehind him protectively. He could feel the tremors running through the man,shockwaves running up and down his arms. It made Bucky want to punch Tiberiusagain.

Tiberius staggered upright, his mouth was faintly blood, hairfinally broken out of the uniform slicked by style. He turned his gaze ontoBucky and his eyes were the palest blue, iced shards set in his handsome,furious face.

“I know you.” Tiberius hissed, voice dangerously soft. “You were awaiter at the foundation gala. A poor one at that.” He laughed; his expressiona twisted, a grotesque parody of a smile. “Is this what you were doing thatNight Tony? Slumming it with the help?”

Tony most definitely had been slumming it with Bucky that night,Bucky remembered it with a vaguely prideful fondness. He also remembered howhe’s found Tony, hiding and drinking like a fish. If this is what he wasrunning from, Bucky didn’t blame him.

“He’s not – “ Tony starting to say from behind Bucky, fallingsilent at the cruel, mocking look Tiberius levelled at him. A trained response.

“He’s not what? He’s probably stealing from you while you sleep.Why else do you think he’s here? You always were so careless. It’s lucky I’mhere.”

“I don’t want you here!” Tony blurted, voice shrill. “I can’tstand to look at you!”

“Anthony, come on. Be reasonable,” Tiberius tried to step towardsTony. His expression turning murderous when Bucky stepped between him, his bulkhiding Tony from view.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Bucky told Tiberius shortly,unable to listen to any more of nasty rubbish coming out of the other’s manmouth. He wanted him away from Tony.

“I’m not taking orders from you!” Tiberius snarled. He looked atTony, his voice dropping back to honeyed sweetness, ‘Anthony, please. Don’tthrow our life away, what will people say about you?’

Tony was white-faced, blank at the plea. “I don’t care. I don’tcare what they.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows vindicated and gestured to the frontdoor, “You heard the man.”

“You’re an idiot!’ Tiberius snarled as he was pushed through thefront door. “You’re going to end up alone. You’ll be begging me to take youback.”

Bucky slammed the door shut in his face. He stared at the heavywood, breathing out a sigh of relief. He was going to go round Tony’s apartmentand burn every sick reminder of that man.

“I’m sorry.” Tony’s voice was quiet, a barely-there whisper behindhim.

Bucky blinking, turning to find Tony stood in the centre of theroom. His arms wrapped tight around his middle, his chin tilted up, ready totake whatever Bucky unleased upon him. Bucky’s heart ached

“Tony.”

‘I didn’t mean to drag you into that. I didn’t know he was goingto come here. I understand if you want to just leave now.”

Bucky stepped forward. It was easy, so easy to fold Tony into hisarms, to wrap him up and hold him as he shuddered, fractured apart. Buckypressed his mouth against’s Tony’s dark hair, kissing his head softly. “He’s anabsolute jerk by the way.” He said.

Tony laughed, the noise strangled. He peered up, dark eyes slowlyreturning to life. “Everyone seems to love him. I’m pretty sure my father willdisown me when he finds out I broke up him.”

“Well, then your father’s an idiot too. No one should ever speakto you like that.”

Tony winced. He took a step backward, hands nervously runningthrough his hair. “He wasn’t completely wrong. I drink too much and I’m aworkaholic, I forget birthdays and anniversaries. I’m boring – ”

“I have one arm, no career and a mouthy best friend who startsfights everywhere he goes. We all have shit. But he used your insecurities tomanipulate, to make you feel bad. And you are the least boring person I’ve evermet.” Bucky could feel his teeth grinding in remembered anger.

A flicker of a smile appeared on Tony’s face and Bucky pressed on,bringing them closer once again.

“I meant what I said. I want you. I’ve wanted you since that firstnight in the bar. I want a proper relationship.”

Tony gaped, mouth open and eyes huge and disbelieving. Bucky couldsee the want, the hope in his face.

“Tell me you don’t want me too.” Bucky said, “We can carry on withthis, I just needed you to know – .”

“No, I. I do want you,” Tony said like confessional, guilty andquiet. “But… I’m not any good at serious relationships.”

Bucky reached out, a hand fitting into the curve of Tony’s face,drawing him closer. “Me neither, maybe we can learn together.”

Tony kissed him tentatively, wanting.

It was a beginning.

Author’s note: We obviously have the same taste! This was loads of fun to write. The ficlet bloated to 2.5k  though! Hope you enjoyed.

[jamie-leah]

Dancing Shadows- Part 1

Bucky x Reader 

Summary: You’re a fire elemental that has been in love with Bucky for a long time. He doesn’t know and you can’t tell him because of his girlfriend. And with an enemy threatening you and everything you love, will you and Bucky find each other before its too late? 

Word Count: 2060

Warnings: mentions/implied sex, violence, angst, swearing?

A/N: This was originally going to be a oneshot, sat down and now 13,000 words later...so here’s another series. I’ll continue it if you want me to? Not a lot of Bucky in this part, but it will get better. Enjoy Lovelies! Permanent tags are OPEN, and tags for this series are OPEN!

Series Masterlist   One Shot Masterlist 

You lie awake in bed cursing yourself and your stupid broken heart. You look to the side at the clock and see that its 4 in the morning. You look on your other side and see the guy you brought home in the hopes he’d make you feel better since the alcohol failed.

You couldn’t sleep. You felt guilty and yet you had done nothing wrong. You sigh as you get out of bed. You pull on a pair of shorts and a shirt. You go to his side of the bed and shake him rather roughly until he opens his eyes. He gives you a lazy smile and you feel your stomach turn. It only gets worse when he speaks to you, “hey, what are you doing? Its still night time”. You ignore him as you pick up his clothes and shove them at him, “I need you to leave now”. You hope he’ll be quick and quiet, you hope no one finds out.

The guy, Dan? Derek? Dean? Looks at you in disbelief but he soon gets over it as he starts putting on his clothes, shooting daggers at you the entire time. You’re not really phased, being an Avenger will do that to you. You open the door to your room and pop your head out to make sure the coast is clear. Once you’re satisfied you turn back to Derek?

“Look Derek-,”

“It’s Daniel”, from the tone of voice you can tell the irritation is becoming anger.

“Okay, sorry Dan, but we both knew what this was and now I think its best if we go our separate ways”. You give him a quick smile before gesturing to the door. He sighs as he walks out the room and you close behind him. He carries on huffing and puffing and stomping his feet, so you stop him, “Hey Daniel, I know you’re feeling a bit annoyed by this, but can you please keep it down, I don’t live alone, and I’d rather not wake anyone up”.

He shrugs your hand off his shoulder, his features deepening in anger, “maybe you should have thought of that before inviting me back here”.

“Okay Dan, that was a little rude, but I’ll let it slide. But please don’t piss me off, I really don’t fancy killing you tonight”.

He scoffs, “killing me? You?-“

You cut him off with a shove towards the elevator, “you’re getting on my nerves now, just get to the elevator and leave”.

You didn’t jump when you heard the voice behind you, you were surprised but didn’t jump, “you heard her, I think it’s best that you leave”. You don’t turn around, knowing the voice of Captain Steve Rogers anywhere. Dan leaves pretty quickly after that, Steve telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to make sure he leaves the building. And when the hall is finally silent you take a deep breath and face Steve.

You can see the concern written all over his face. Steve wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time and its one of the reasons you love him, he’s like the brother you never had. Sadly, you also saw disappointment somewhere in his eyes, “that’s the third time this week Y/N”.

You heave a sigh, having had this conversation for the third time this week, “I know Steve, I’m not great at maths but even I can count to 3”.

Steve shakes his head, “don’t deflect with sarcasm”.

“You know me so well Steve”.

“I do. I know you so well that I know if you keep doing this you’re going to hurt someone. You’re not always the best at keeping your emotions in check and for you that has consequences”. You know he’s right, but you’re not entirely sure what to do about it. Steve walks the short distance between you and engulfs you into a hug. The warmth from his bare chest a comfort to you. You feel a tear slip out before you can hold it back and he squeezes you a little tighter.

You mumble into his chest, “it’s getting harder and harder Steve…to watch him and her”. Steve doesn’t say anything, as he holds you tighter in the early morning light.

Breakfast came too soon. You weren’t ready to face the day, but these days you never were. You walk into the kitchen to find Sam cooking and dancing to the radio. Nat, Bucky, and his girlfriend Jessica were sitting at the island.

Your stomach tightened but you bit your tongue as you walked in with fake confidence. Sam turns around with a smirk, “there she is, our very own party animal. You were out late last night”. You laugh, and you cringe at the easiness of it. You hate how the lie is natural around Bucky and Jess. You hate how he doesn’t notice that its fake. “Well, you should know Sam, the night is meant to be enjoyed”.

You felt His eyes on you, but you willed yourself to focus on Sam and his reply. He whistles low, “sounds like someone had fun”. You don’t answer, unable to carry on the lie of how shit the night really was underneath the surface.

Instead you change the subject, “I hope that bacon is for me Sam”.

He turns to give you a wink, “you bet”.

You hear a giggle and you want to throw up. It causes you to look as you take in the smile Bucky gives to Jess, a secret joke passing between them. You catch Nat’s eye and find sympathy. You were sick of the sympathy. Your whole life just seems to be one huge pity party.

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke, you were grateful she was asking you to head to the meeting room, not even waiting for the end of her sentence before leaving the room. When you reach the room, you find Steve and Tony all geared up. Steve speaks, “get suited up, there’s a situation at the World Health Organisation based in Switzerland. We need you to put out some fires”.

You don’t ask any questions. Before you know it, you’re taking off in the jet. It doesn’t take long to get there. There were more than a few fires to put out, half the building had collapsed. You turn to Steve as the jet lands, “what the hell Steve? This is a huge disaster, why isn’t the whole team here?”.

Steve looked out over the damage, “I…when we received the call for help they said it wasn’t that bad…”. As soon as the jet door was open Tony flew out into the fray. You run out with instructions to put the fire out and rescue anyone you can. It seemed that none of us knew who or what did this, but we didn’t have time to think about it.

In your comms you could hear Steve calling the tower asking for more help. You reach the ruins and run straight in. The roar of the fires drowning out the screams of people running outside.

Being a fire elemental meant that you could smother the fire, essentially absorbing its energy. Absorbing so much energy was draining and painful to contain and you were nervous at how big the damage was. But Steve reassured over comms that the others were coming.

You make your way through the building putting out the fires and finding a few survivors. You feel your energy drop as you make your way over rumble. You don’t hear anything behind you until you’re punched in the back so hard you go flying across the rubble. You feel the rocks tear at the skin on your hands and face. You land face down, pain racing up your spine. You manage to cough out, “Steve”, before you’re picked up by your scruff. You feel the ground leave you as you’re turned to face a man, bigger than Steve and Bucky combined, wearing a black mask that looked like a skull.

He stares at you, his eyes look black too, it unsettles you as you feel fear making it harder to regain control of your breathing. You hear Steve, frantic in your comms along with Tony. You bring your legs up, plant your feet on his chest and push. The guy lets go in surprise and he stumbles back as you tumble to the floor again. Even with the wind knocked out of you, you manage to roll back on to your feet as the assailant recovers.

You take a few seconds to figure out what the fuck you should do. You can’t risk using your ability right now, with so much stored energy you risk bringing the entire building down. You would run but he’s blocking the exit.

You can’t think further as the guy moves faster than you would have expected. You barely keep up with your blocking of his punches. You can feel your arms bruising already. You dodge a punch that was dangerously close. Your small size compared to him was the only advantage you had as you managed to run passed him. You head for the exit, not bothering to see if he was following. You finally speak on comms again, “Steve…I need…back up”.

You can still hear the guy behind you as you will your feet to move faster. Then you hear Bucky on the comms, “where are you Y/N?”. Your heart hurts and swells at his voice.

You manage to get out, “north side-“, before you feel yourself tackled to the rough ground. You’re flipped onto your back, stones and debris digging in as the guy straddles you. You squirm but holding onto the fire inside of you is taking everything you have. You struggle harder when his hands cover your neck, squeezing harder with each passing second. You try to focus on staying awake as your lungs scream for air.

You watch him close his eyes and breathe in while squeezing harder. When he opens his eyes, you were shocked to see them glowing purple. Then it hit you. You realised who he was and that’s when you realised the energy you had taken from the fires was growing weaker and weaker. He seemed to be taking the energy from you.

The edges of your vision were darkening, making his eyes seem more vibrant. Without warning he was ripped from you, your body automatically seeking air as you sputtered and coughed. You’re vaguely aware of Steve catching his shield until Bucky’s face comes into focus, concerned, and panicked. He cups your face, getting you to breathe along with him. When you finally feel like you can breathe again he helps you up. Every muscle protests the movement but thankfully the adrenaline is still pumping enough for you to push through it.

From the corner of your eye you see the mysterious guy get back up, flames licking at his fingertips, his hand aimed at Steve. You push Bucky out the way as you jump in from of Steve. The fire hits you with such force that you slide backwards, absorbing as much of it as you could. Over the roar of the fire you see the boys struggling to move from the spot they’re standing in. The guy looking at them with his eyes glowing again. You see his other hand come to life with flames but before he can use it you will the fire to your body quicker instead of fighting the flow. Soon enough the flames on his other hand die out as his eyes find yours.

You know you’re taking too much energy too fast. Your skin heating up as waves of hotness crash inside you. Your head is on fire and the pain brings you to your knees. You know the boys are yelling at you but the roar of the fire and pain in your head drowns them out and yet when the stranger speaks his lips don’t move. When you hear his voice, its as if he’s standing right next to you, whispering in your ear, “let go child. Your powers crave release”. When the last of the flames reached you, the guy was nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t dwell on that fact as you felt the pain all over your body, the burning, consume you. You were unconscious before you hit the floor.

Permanent Tags: @glimmering-darling-dolly , @justakpopfan4 , @overlywhelmedfangirl

[sian22redux]

Entanglements

by sian22redux

For @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  ‘s Angsty writing challenge: Star’s Marvel Mayhem

Prompt:  ‘He was acting like our kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.’

Bucky x reader

Rating: M

Summary:  The fight for love is sometimes harder than the mission.  

How Bucky and Y/N of Private Party came to be together.

Timeline:  After Wakanda of Black Panther end scenes, but assumes IW is over and he’s safe.

Tags:  oral sex-mentioned, het, canon-compliant mayhem, hurt/comfort, angst, angst, angst

Thank you so so much to the heroic @wheelrider for expert beta’ing, even in a fandom that is not hers!!  And to awesome @theycallmebecca for checking it worked!  

—————————————-

The first time it happens, it is just a drunken hookup.

The party at Avengers Tower is star-spangled, loud, and pulsing fun; rare vodka fueled and graced by the hottest DJ in New York.  You’ve left your uniform and new medal of valour in the hospitality suite Miss Potts has thoughtfully laid on.  Donned a slinky black cocktail dress and four-inch heels and walked into the space on Mr Stark’s arm,  blushing at his gushing praise.  

Thank heaven this evening event is more relaxed than the White House’s lavish ballroom. Your knees had knocked so loud you were sure that the President had heard. Visibility is not your thing.  Or speeches.  But your few heartfelt words had tumbled out, applauded by brass and dough-faced senators and Bucky had stood, smiling, looking oh so perfectly edible in a charcoal suit.  He’d winked at you, a shining in his eyes that was almost as bright as in the moment your marksmanship had saved his life.  

 Perhaps you hadn’t imagined his yearning after all.

Tony plies you with whiskey sours, and sometime after the fourth (or fifth?)  Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson coax you out onto the dance floor.  Time for some fun.   Bucky stands and stares and takes it in: Steve’s hilariously sloppy groove, Sam’s easy sway. He’s frowning adorably, critiquing every move until he’s had enough of watching amateurs.  He sets down his beer, absolutely murder struts out onto the dance floor, and with a ‘my turn punk’ rips you from their arms.  The music settles into something smooth and slow (has Steve’s had a hand it that?) but then suddenly Bucky leans in.  Cheek to cheek and hip to hip.  There’s a fire blazing up inside that takes the pair of you by surprise, and when Bucky whispers, voice molasses dark and slow, “Doll, let’s escape,” you go.  

Oh god.  

You wake up so hung over it feels like you need to shave your tongue.  Your dress is nowhere in sight and Bucky is sprawled out on his stomach.  The bedclothes are mostly on the floor, his evening tux makes a trail of black and white against cream carpet and your (only) lacy underthings dangle off the lamp.  

Fuck, what were you thinking?  

Weren’t, obviously.  You’d let the heady abandon of the evening, the crackling electricity between you both mess with your hard-earned self control, but it just can’t be.  This man is your assignment, the one you are set to guard from the tentacles of a wounded, dying global empire that is trying to grab hold.  

Best not to stick around.  You lever upright, stagger to the washroom, run a wet hand through your tangled hair and try not to notice the lurid hickey on your collarbone.  

Your dress is underneath the dresser (?), you slip it on without a sound, but ugh, the shoes are a pain: your feet are swollen from dancing for so long and so you fumble, trying to do up the flimsy straps.  Finally, the prong slots through the tiny hole.  All set.   

Just as you find your purse and reach across the bedside table for your thong, a silver hand shoots out and clasps your wrist.  

Gently.   

But not planning on letting go. 

“Doll, where ya going?”  Bucky cracks one eye open and the corner of his mouth quirks up.  “No one’s on this morning.  Tony promised.”  

“Got a briefing,” you lie, wincing internally, hating yourself for doing it, but this is a one-time thing and you do not plan on speaking of it.   

Again.  

Or ever.  

The disappointment that clouds the lazy sparkle in his eyes is something to avoid.  You hastily turn away, but at the door you pause guiltily for far too long.  At last, you speak to the quiet resignation from the bed.   

“Thank… thank you.”   

Safe. Or almost.  Steve Rogers wakes up early.  He’s showered after an early run, set up in the kitchen; got french toast frying and washed wineglasses in the drain tray.  He’s grinning.  Wide and hopeful just like an excited Labrador.  

“Breakfast will be ready in a jif.”  

You blink in the too=bright space and think, Fuck my life.  

“Captain… uhh.”  

What the ever lovin’ hell should you say??  

Sorry, can’t stay after banging your best friend. Can’t eat cuz I might just puke.  Or better yet…yes I have read DAOD 5019-1 but this does not constitute inappropriate fraternization across the ranks. 

“Not hungry, Corporal?”  Steve shrugs those massive shoulders and flips a tea towel across his arm, peeking at the toast’s browning underside.  “Suit yourself.”   

You do.

But no regrets.  

It had been too wonderful for that.

—————-

The second time it happens, you tell yourself it is just the frantic release of relief.  

It’s been another too-close-for-comfort call.  Six months past cryo in Wakanda and the insanity that was the Infinity War, and you’d think in the aftermath the remnants of Hydra would no longer care.  But they do, and can’t help but see he’s back, and if they can’t control the Asset, they want him gone.  

There is a careful balance between keeping Bucky safely whole and actually giving him a life.

You’re walking up out of the subway into Battery Park’s wintery sun, a hologram cover hiding your M24 because you just can’t saunter past New York’s Sunday shoppers and happy families pushing strollers openly armed to the teeth.  

Bucky’s a block in front, sunglasses on and hood of his dark puffy jacket pulled right up because camouflage is necessary and the stiff southwesterly off the Hudson is cutting through the naked trees.  He’s heading for the SeaGlass carousel where he will stand and smile, hands sunk deep in pockets, remembering the original aquarium he and Steve delighted in another lifetime ago. 

After two months of tracking him on every outing, you know him well. 

James Barnes loves plums and granola bars.  Extra whip at Starbucks and hunting for old comic books.  The Hayden planetarium and giant, hairy, slobbery dogs.  A fresh trim means things are good because Nat can get close to him with shears.  A fringe of days-old stubble means he’s having harder nights.  The triggers are gone, but not the memory of what he’s done.  When he stops, stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk, lips moving and new hand clenched into a fist, you know he’s centering.  Running through a routine in whatever language comes to his head.  

At least he is a better subject than most.  Always watching.  Baseball cap or hood pulled down, changing his route each day, not making it easy on the goons who might dog his steps.   Or you.

It’s part of what makes this detail fun. This day he’s slid into an empty booth at Gigino, near enough the front for light but not so near he hasn’t a good view of the door.  The notebook’s out, bristling with sticky tabs like a multicolour hedgehog.  You are sitting diametrically across, scanning everything around but him, cuz hit men don’t all look like Brock Rumlow after all and folks carrying things in bags make a prickle at your nape.  Your unobstructed view down the gravel walks is good, but somehow, a figure by the Liberty dock sets the hairs rising on your arm.  Hunched. Looking back too often to the restaurant.  Arm akimbo and hiding something.  

You whisper urgently into the comms, hustle out of the doors and fire on the run.  It’s a challenge but not long range, nothing like the shot before, but precision is the thing.   You have no intention of damaging any of the good folk around.  

The subject drops.  Bystanders freak, scattering in all directions, and even as two agents materialize to cluster around Bucky as a precaution, he looks unerringly across at you, recognition and open longing on his face.  

Yeah. Well.  Me too, pal.

You melt away into the shadows, and after the NYPD have it all locked down, you find yourselves thrown together back at the Tower for a hastily convened debrief.

Coulson’s reviewing footage and Fury’s frowning, tapping impatient fingers on the tabletop, talking about the need for better eyes, but you’re having trouble focusing.  

There’s a thirst in Bucky’s eyes that matches the one making your nether regions throb.  God, how good would it be to strip off the Stark body armour underneath his vest.  Press your skin along the length of him and feel every hot, hard inch.  Too good. To be avoided, but beside you the metal hand flexes back and forth.  As if he’s read your mind.

“Soldier?”  Fury’s question drops like a bomb into your awareness.  Neither of you are listening, too aware of each other to focus on mundane things like strategy.    

“Umm, yeah…”  Buck licks his lips and starts again.  “I mean, no, I don’t know any more about that sleeper cell. 

Fury turns to rake you both with his good eye.  After one eternal minute, he shakes his head, looking more bemused than mad.  

“Get outta here.  Both of you.”

You don’t need to be told a second time.  

Buck stalks out into the hall and you follow, thinking how it was too close a call and you are pissed Hydra’s not backing down and goddammit why are the other agents letting these shitballs get so very close and it’s almost like you are vibrating 

Fuck.  Wrong choice of word.  

Your skin is positively alive with how aware of him you are, nerves jangled, sparking white hot arcs of lust, and then he has to make it worse.   He turns and devours you with those ocean eyes as he slams the button for the elevator.

Hard.  

With his prosthetic hand.

The thought of it on you again makes your bones almost liquefy.

“Steve’s off doing PR.”

The few spare words are said with a crooked grin, eyes challenging, and like lightening you are both struck on.  Somehow, your legs are wound about his waist, lips locked, your back up against the cool mirror of the elevator wall, so engrossed you don’t notice when the motion stops.  His metal arm bangs through the apartment and bedroom doors, makes the hinges scream in protest, and then without warning the axis of your world flips over.  You are both horizontal.  On the bed, frantically shedding clothes until his cock sinks into your molten core.  You arch your back with the utter bliss of it, strokes hard and fast and frenzied, rising higher and then, inexplicably, he stills; drags his lips off your nipple to stare intently at your face.  

“Y/N I ain’t gonna last.  I…”  

You open your eyes and catch his gaze.  His eyes are dark and wide and filled with wonder.  As caught off guard as you by the pure fury of the need– but oh you are not going there.  Not thinking about how right this feels, how close and perfectly in tune you are.  Nope. Nuh unh.  This is sex, not making love.  Scratching an itch.  Purely mechanical.    

“Bucky, move!”  

You flip up your hips just so, knowing instinctively what it will do to him, and pull his hip bones closer, tighter, until you’re both grinning and he’s moaning, long and low, shuddering as he spills and you come apart, shining in the afterglow.

This time you deliberately stay the night.  

You curl up into the crook of his flesh arm because you’re weak.  Just can’t pull yourself away.  It’s warm.  And easy. And some part of you wants the peace—for him and you.

When you eventually awaken, stiff and achy, smelling of sweat and musk and the haute perfume of the disguise you never bothered to wash off, the sun hasn’t risen yet. Bucky’s dead to the world, face soft and slack in sleep, so beautiful and vulnerable it almost hurts.

For a moment, breakfasting together flits across your brain, but no.  Way too risky.  Too much like normal couple life.

You slide out from under a heavy bicep and set your feet soundlessly on the chill of the floor, ignoring a lazy snuffle, but, by the time your shrug back on your (ridiculous) Dolce coat, the worry line has settled on his brow again.  

Damn. For a few precious hours, the perennial mark of his mistreatment had erased.  You want to run a finger down it, smooth away the shadowed ridge with a soft caress, but you do not dare.  That is exactly how another bonfire could ignite.

Instead, you gather up your rifle, activate the hologram and tip-toe away.  Like a thief in the night or a spy who’s set a honey trap.  

You text him ‘sweet dreams’ because this is not the bitch you want to be…  

————————-

The third time it happens—well, it’s just pure weakness…

You are, of necessity, an expert at disguise.  Part of a scout-sniper’s training is advanced stalking skills, keeping yourself hidden from a target just five feet away in rough open bush;  you’ve done that and mastered alternate camouflage for  downtown New York.  Four changes of outfit a day if Bucky’s going far.  Rocker grunge in ripped jeans and blue streaked hair.  Finance exec in Burberry trench and heels.  Thank heaven platform sneakers with lace and skirts are a thing; easier to run in those.  

Bucky may not pick you out, doesn’t know exactly where you are, but he knows you’re there.  Today, your hair is brown, next week redhead, after that could be pink: anything but your natural, and naturally noticeable, pale blonde.  It’s like a game—you hiding and him guessing where you might be.  He shows it (and how he’s memorized every conversation that you’ve had) in little actions meant just for you.

One morning, he ‘just happens’ to be forgetful and leaves a cup of mocha/hold-the-whip on the bench where he just sat.  Another scorching afternoon, he buys your favourite Oddfellows miso cherry cup and leaves it safely in the shade of a blue postbox.  Once, he spends two hours stalking every exhibit at the Met’s armory museum because you’d admitted you’ve never been.  (You like old rifles.  What can you say?)  

How can you not fall for this man?  He’s sweet and kind and deadly.  Wants the best thing for everybody if not for himself, and will soon become impossible to resist.  

Scratch that.  Is.  Is impossible to resist.  

Damn his super hearing.  One lunch strolling past Agent Provocateur, he catches your quiet sigh at something flirty but way, waaay out of your snack bracket and, the next thing you know, he’s marching into Victoria’s Secret.  Cruising the racks in exactly your right size.  Leaving the pink bag wedged behind a subway seat.  

Collecting it is just not wasting money, right?  

It goes on like this for weeks, until the day the teasing shit walks into Narcisse, buys chocolate body paint and leads you straight back in the direction of the Tower.

Oh god.  

This necessitates yet another reconnoiter with wardrobe at the safe house.  No one thinks twice about a well-groomed Chanel-suited woman visiting Tony Stark. 

When the morning comes and you crouch, hand poised above the new skimpy scrap of lace, silently agonizing whether to bring or leave, Bucky sits up in bed.  Confused. Dark hair temptingly messy and fingers reaching out.

“Y/N? Where’s the fire.  It’s early yet.”  

Fuck, he makes this so very hard.  Bucky wants something for himself and you want to give it, but this is, if not exactly wrong, so far from right.  

“Ah…” You don’t know what to say.  The sheets are rumpled low about his hips and the comforter sprawls across the floor.  He’d shoved it off.  Kneeling between your legs to plunder you mercilessly with his tongue.

Oh, Christ, Y/N, don’t think of that.

“I want to get in a run.”  The lie comes easily.  You hate running, but he doesn’t know that yet.

“Gonna hafta change those heels,” he chuckles, stretching languidly.  “You’ll need your coffee first.   Steve said he’d put some on first thing.”  

You pretend to relent, smile and plant the softest of kisses on the knotted scars of his shoulder.  

“See you later,” you murmur, intending to go straight on home, but Steve Rogers has other plans.  Ever the gentleman and always up with the birds, he’s made pancakes. And sausage.  And fruit salad with blueberries.

The table is already set for three.

In the awkward silence, he misunderstands why your mouth is open.  

“Syrup or sugar and lemon juice?  Buck’s mom was British.”  

The assumption you don’t understand the condiments is just too much.  Turning him down again would be far too rude.  

You sit, wrinkled disguise and all, and take a bite of bacon, realizing you have slept with the subject eight times over three different nights and you had no clue what his mother’s background was.  

The fact you want to know is somewhat startling.

From down the hall, you hear the whoosh of water beating down and an adorably off-tune whistle.  Your faithless libido says if you’d played your cards just right you’d be in there too. Soaping up his six pack and the dimples in his butt cheeks.  Going yet another round.  

Desperately, you hide your flaming cheeks in a perfectly foamy cappuccino, but Steve isn’t fooled.  

“You know,” he remarks, casually forking up the detritus of an entire fluffy stack.  “Buck never has nightmares when you are here.”

It’s a hard lesson, but one you obviously have to learn.   

Again.  

Never, never underestimate Captain America’s mastery of tactics.  

———————————–

A week, a month, and you fall into a routine. Bucky’s shadow in the day and his teddy bear at night.  A watcher on his six.  Fire when he needs it and softness when he does not. That he’s let down his guard and become intimate with someone shows just how far he’s come. A growing part of you wants to do this, cheer on every little bit of taking back himself; but another part says stop.

You pride yourself on your skill and professional approach.  Dispassionate execution.  It is part of the reason you are so very good.  You do not get distracted.  At all. You’ve got no baggage. No serious exes clutter up your past. You have not spoken to your folks in years (their commune frowns on ‘making war’).

It comes as something of a shock to need your daily dose of Buck.  Sarcastic jokes.  Lips like silk.  Muscles rippling underneath your touch.  

It shouldn’t matter but it does.  The mission is to protect him.  

Even if it means from yourself.  

———————————-

It is the shot, just a few centimeters stray, that settles things in your mind.  

Sure, everyone has rougher days. Aim a little off.  Skin jumpy and so tight it messes with your zen. But not you.  Never you.  Your concentration is absolute.  You just can’t miss and that is exactly why Coulson first brought you in.  Ms. Hill, in charge of Stark’s security, wants the best of the very best and you are it.  

Next to the man you are sworn to protect.

Barton’s grinning and looking at the minor spread on the target sheet, leaning casually on his bow. “What are you thinking of, Y/N?“ he laughs, blue eyes sliding up to your face.  “Sure ain’t your work.”  

Your cheeks flame up.  He doesn’t mean it.  This is Clint never passing up a chance to take the piss but still it gets your brain cells firing.  What were you thinking of?   Slim hips in black tac pants.  A stubbled, chiseled jaw.  Silver fingers cradling the barrel of a gun.

Shit.

Bucky’s standing not ten feet away in the next corral and, fuck, you can’t help yourself.  It’s the first time you’ve seen him all that day and the need flares up; wild and feral and messing with your head.  You want to know how he’s doing.  Ask about his bout with Steve, see if he wants to grab some lunch, make sure he’s eating right because he’s looking a little hollow in the cheeks and…  

Stop.  

You’re shocked and frankly terrified.  Is this love?  Infatuation? A school-girl crush?  Your heart is raw but what is this for him?  A diversion?  Something steady?  You have no idea, you don’t get much time to talk but you know what it shouldn’t be: too serious.  He is still recovering. You’re his rebound and it isn’t healthy.  Buck needs to date casually, get a better sense of himself and Jesus fucking Christ he is your job.

If Coulson or Fury find out, they’re entitled to put you on report.  A black mark on your copybook.   Though that isn’t what’s got you truly rattled.

You have to be a perfect shot.

For him.

His life depends upon it.

When you finally find the courage to rip the bandage off, you learn first hand that bullshit in Russian has an awfully familiar tone.

Bucky’s a solid wall of disagreement, arms crossed over his chest.  “Babe, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“It does.”  You raise your chin.  “I am here to protect you.  I can’t do that when my focus is…distracted.”  

“It’s not that way for Nat and Clint.”

Really?  You file that new tidbit of gossip away for more analysis, but still have to regretfully shake your head.  “Not the same. They’re a team, trained to work in tandem.  This is different.”

“It’s not.”  

“It is.”

“Not true.”  

His certainty that you’ll relent begins to melt away. “Y/N, don’t do this.  I thought we had something. Were working on it.  Can be something more.”  

“Please.”

He falls silent in the face of your hard bitten stare.  Lost eyes dark and pleading.  More like a kicked puppy than a famous murderbot, but still you hold.    

You can’t.  You wish you could, but no.  

“It has to be this way for me.”  

To blunt the hurt, you stretch up on tip-toe to press a delicate apology to his lips.  

Bucky flinches, acting like your kiss has broken him and his reaction is breaking you.

‘I thought we had something?’

The accusation rings in your ears all the days to come, but even tears don’t put the heart fires out.

——————————-

You do your job.  Break down and reassemble your gun for the soothing repetition.  Keep well away.  Do exactly what you need to do and not one iota more, but watching him all day is torture.  

Both of you are miserable.

You hide it.  Bucky not so much.  His blue eyes lose their spark;  become haggard and bloodshot.  You know you’ve put the dark bags there, but at least they’re there, you tell yourself when another hit gets foiled.

Everybody notices.  On those rare times you have to be in the Tower, Steve remains so professionally polite and clipped it’s just like being shot.  Next to him, no one knows.  You sit, mute and hurting, inconveniently placed beside Pepper and Maria at a SHIELD event, taking in Natasha’s blistering attack on ‘the gold dipped bitch’ who’s hurt her friend.  They know Bucky, too.  How much the silent, morose Soldier is a capitulation; how working through hurt makes it harder for him to keep the last dregs of Hydra programming at bay.  You hate yourself for it. But there really is no other way and now you realize, it’s getting harder.  Your concentration’s worse if anything and it would be kinder to stop torturing you both.    

The sick reality falls like lead into your stomach. 

You can’t be there at all.  

————————-

You never planned to work for SHIELD.  

You’d enlisted at age eighteen because with no formal schooling and no degree, Uncle Sam was the only outfit that would promise you a job. Your long-honed hunting skills were evident in basic; refined in sniper school until you were something of a legend. You’d set your heart on Special Ops, did every extra ribbon and rotation but still were not sent to the front. Women were not then given combat roles. It sucked.  And if your superiors were sympathetic, they still attached you to endless close protection details. Sent you to the AMU competitions.  Ignored your increasingly strident, respectful pleas for reassignment until you’d thrown your resignation papers down and marched straight off the base.

Seemed like just minutes passed before a bland, grey-suited man tapped you on the shoulder.

“Miss Y/N?” said Philip Coulson with a smile. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Nick Fury is the best boss you’ve never officially had, because sometimes your Army cover is somewhat helpful and Phil swiftly arranged for your resignation papers disappear.  

The rest is history.

——————————

“You want to be reassigned.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You will not squirm, but the Director, away from prying ears in his secure coordination room, is fixing you with his patented thousand-metre stare.  “You really want to go back to Fort Bragg and do paperwork?  Get trotted out when they need an affirmative action photo shoot?”

You groan. Ugh. They will and you know it, but anywhere than SHIELD is the objective.  Better a clean break, you think, but Fury’s not done with you yet.  

“I hear the First Daughter had some death threats.  FBI’s asked us if we can spare a gun. We could reassign you to Sparrow’s detail.”  

Oh fuck no.  The President’s petulant and self-absorbed teenager burns through agents faster than she raids Bloomingdales.  

It takes everything in you to do that nod.

Fury’s one visible eyebrow nearly hits the roof.  “You are serious.”

“Sir. I am.”  You’ve called his bluff.  You stand to attention and wait for it.  The serious suggestion you know is coming.  

“Thing is, Y/N, we were going to recommend you for a new assignment,” Fury paces, hands behind his back and shoulders to the view.  “It involves training.  As hard as anything you’ve done.”

Really?  You’re skeptical. You’ve done the Rangers even if they didn’t let you in the field. Toughed it out with the toughest the Army had.  

What he says next, nearly has your jaw upon the floor.

“We want you permanently cross-posted to the Advanced Threat Containment Unit.  Watch Sergeant Barnes full time.  Close in as he transitions to his next new role.”  

Surprise makes you blurt out the first thing in your head.  “You can’t mean on combat missions?!”

“Mhmm.”  

But that means…  “You’re sending Bucky back into the field!”

“Got a problem with that, Corporal?”  

Your mouth is hanging open.  “But you can’t…”

‘I don’t do that anymore’ rings in your ears.

“You’re going to let him…”

Fury looks, not mad, but entirely amused. “Not do assassinations, no. But let him train and participate.” 

“You can’t,” you stubbornly repeat.  He’s stupidly reckless.  Prone to throwing himself headlong into everything. Not completely healed.  “Not ready,” you finish lamely. 

“You disagree with the psych eval?” 

You shuffle your feet.  This is thin ground. SHIELD does not employ folks with fake degrees.   “No, Sir.” 

The Director smiles, as warmly as you’ll get.  Which is to say, about as a warm as a melting icecube.  “Good. Sergeant Barnes needs someone who has his back and Captain Rogers can’t do that leading from the front.”  

So true.   But also why Bucky shouldn’t be out at all.  “Sir, he forgets…”  To care about himself enough.  

“Precisely why I’ve suggested you be assigned.  You are the best markswoman we have got.  Look, I’m not entirely happy with this either, but he can’t sit and knit forever.  Stark says he’s ready.  The -ologists say he’s ready.  And he’s spending his days moping around the compound too much.”  You wince inside, knowing the cause of that.   “Getting some of his own back might even help.”  

It might.  

And someone will try to take Bucky out again.

And he will be focused on everything but himself.

Shit.  

There is no choice.  

You know you can keep him safe.

Fury, the bastard, just stands and cracks his deaths-head grin.

 ———————————

Training with the Avengers is more brutal than anything you’ve done.

Steve’s in charge, and Nat.  Both merciless.  Both focused on honing you into something more than a gun.  It’s brutal and physical but that isn’t the hardest part.

Bucky is there training, too.  

It feels like being a cat on a hot tin roof.  Circling each other.  Carefully.  Two negative terminals on a magnet—repelling as far away as they can get.  

“Corporal.”

“Sergeant.”  

You’ve said no and Bucky is bending over backwards to be polite and perfectly correct.  No physical contact outside sparring.  No first names unless you can help it.  No interaction at all, outside missions, to be honest.  Tony, oblivious (at least you think he is), organizes movie nights and BBQs that you mostly miss.  You follow Buck’s lead, keep yourself more closed than usual.  Socialize with your old SHIELD squad when you can, haunt your room when there is no time.  

It takes a toll.  

You are not, by nature, a recluse but this is how it has to be. You can’t stand the brief flashes of disappointment in Bucky’s eyes, the wariness with which he interacts.  They cut at your resolve. Shred it, until you’re forced to shut out everything but mission goals. 

They come and go.  Days. Weeks.  The strain coils higher, but you tell yourself you are doing it for him: the man whose eyes haunt your waking moments. You become a shell, sapped of life and desiccated, but each shot is crisp and clean.  This makes it right, but not natural. Eventually, you switch roles like understudies in a play.  He is the pro, silent and efficient as he does his job, while you are the damaged one, snapping at every little thing, recklessly taking risks, heedless of your own safety.  

It all seems worthwhile until the day you walk silently up the empty ramp for the Quinjet and find Steve and Sam huddled by the cockpit.

They don’t hear you slide like a shadow into your berth.

“His nightmares are getting worse.”  

Sam whistles low. “Worse? Man, they were bad before.”

Steve slowly shakes his head. “It’s like Wakanda before he went in cryo.  I honestly don’t know how he is even functioning.”    

“Yeah.  But the shit truth is there nothing you or I can do about it.”  Sam sounds resigned.  “Unless he comes clean on what it is that’s eating at him, and you know he won’t do that easily. Dude’s too stubborn.”

“He’s not the only one.”  

Steve, you realize later, says this for you.  His eyes bore like a laser into your forehead when he comes over to sit down, shrugging his five-point harness on.  

“Corporal.” 

“Captain.”  

“You good?”

“Yes, Sir.”

You fiddle unnecessarily with the heat shield on your stock.  Out of the corner of one eye, you can see him frown, loop his fingers into his belt and sigh, but you know he won’t call you out, won’t give away your private business to anyone.  Still, the optimist in him can’t help but hope.  Steve Rogers is really like a giant collie dog that shepherds a whole flock of misfits—he isn’t happy unless everyone’s set right; and you and Buck are waay out on the fringe.  It feels as if the solid, brooding bulk of his suit is willing you to change your mind. But you are stubborn.

(A trait that you and Bucky share, along with snark and an obsession with perfect lattes.) 

While you wait for everyone to load, you keep your head down and bite your lip, worrying about what you’ve heard.  Fuck, if Buck’s not sleeping that makes both of you, and to do this job you need to be on. You’re good.  You’re fine, you can tolerate a little sleep deprivation, but Bucky—that’s not right. Years of cryo and mind-wipes have messed with the circuitry.  He needs sleep to heal, more than most, and you shake your head, knee vibrating like Clint’s bowstring, dreading but anxiously awaiting for him to load.  

You don’t have long to wait.  Nat and Clint clatter past and take the pilot seats, Tony swans through and starts briefing Steve with last-minute intel and then Bucky’s there. Stowing his gun and hiding behind a fall of dark, lank hair.  You’re shocked.  It’s been a week since you saw him last, in the common room, but oh god he is worse. Clearly.  He barely responds when Clint does a system check. Grunts at Steve’s chirpy welcome. Falls into his seat across from you and that’s when it starts.  The sense of failure.  The hurt that the brutal truth is you are making this all worse; doing exactly what you had wanted to avoid.

Bucky’s not safer with you there.  He’s more in danger and the knowledge of it sucks out all the oxygen.

You spend the three-hour trip and first half hour of the ensuing firefight under water, surfacing for precious gulps of air between the mounting pressure in your chest; like your harness is strapped down way too tight.  

You thought that you’d be helping him, but oh, Y/N, you are really not.  

You need to leave.

Entirely.

Goddamn it hurts, but you have no time.  The heinous bastards who have grabbed a SHIELD tracking station have their dander up, are resisting with all they’ve got and you need to be on your game following as Bucky’s cover.  You leap and sight, neutralize another target still feeling like you can’t get air, watching his lithe form duck and roll, mercilessly slamming a terrorist to the ground.  

His face is all dark angles and unhappy shadows.  Lined and smudged, a ghost of the man who’d smiled, run his fingers through your hair, gently nuzzling at your neck  

“Babe, I could stay this way forever.”

The flash of memory is like a sucker punch to the gut.  

You’ve screwed this whole thing up.  

Can’t do your fucking job cuz you gave in and slept with the man who is your mission and now you’re… what?  

Miserable in his company.  Miserable without.

In love.

Fuck.

This is not how things should be.…  

You’re drowning in the unhappiness, but even with a red haze of doomed understanding filtering across your gaze, you can’t not see it.

The motherfucker three hundred yards away taking aim at Bucky’s head 

You need to pot the asshat now–but your view is obstructed by the base’s cell tower and, so, you leap out, aim and squeeze, heedless of your own back.  The concrete behind the man’s dead eyes neatly disintegrates in a spray of elegant debris and your world dissolves in a rain of stabbing hurt, like a whole river of gravel is fired from the sky.  

You fall.  

There’s a roaring in your ears and the breathlessness is getting worse.  Iron and smoke tinge the soup of dust and rock and gas that your lungs don’t want to breathe. Concussion grenade, must be: and, at first, you struggle, but the twisted beam that roofs your little world won’t even shift.  It’s close, pressing on your chest and you will yourself to fight the panic down.  Don’t disturb it.  Don’t make the situation worse.  You want to laugh at that—fuck no—all you do is make situations worse— but the breath in hurts like full-on hell.  

That has to be good, doesn’t it?  It’s when you don’t feel anything you’re going down…

Ok.. just…lie.  Breathe… take inventory. There’s a trickle of blood running from your hair down through your eyes: you can taste it upon your tongue.  Your left hand stings, but your right is just lying here. Numb. Not moving. Broken probably, but that is the least of your concerns.

The pressure of the beam bears down steadily.

And with it your space to get some air.  

“Y/N!”

From somewhere to your left there comes a voice.  Faint and muffled.  As if someone is shouting way way far away and you realize—this is it.  You are going to die.  No ones gonna arrive in time but weirdly you are ok.  Bucky is allright.  You saw him flip and roll away.  That’s good…that’s everything.  You cough on the settling dust and steel and try to take shallower breaths.  Your heart’s too fast and the air’s too thin and you close your eyes.  Float, indistinct at the edges.  Nothing hurts too much right now.  It’s good. You can close your eyes and drift away.  

“Y/N!”

This time the call is muffled but louder: anguished, as if everything in the world is wrong.

A chunk of steel is wrenched away and for the first time a patch of light shines through the dim.  

“Y/N, are you hurt?!”

You blink through the blood that gums your lashes.  Bucky’s there.  Shoulders wedged into the impossibly tiny space, eyes wide with something you are sure you have never seen.

Fear.

You want to ease his mind, but words are a little hard.  “I’m ok,” comes out more wheeze than whisper.

“Hang on, we’re gonna get you out.”  Bucky barks into the comms for Sam, and help, and oxygen.  He turns and gingerly shoves aside the loose jagged chunks of steel to make a little space.  When there’s a hand’span of pavement clear, he dips down on his left, grimacing and flexing up against the beam.  

There’s a slow metallic groan, an endless pause, but eventually it lifts just barely. 

But sadly not enough.  

The fuzzy world is whiting out, dissolving in a ring of sparks.

“Y/N!”  He frees a hand, shakes you roughly and sends a lance of agony through your chest.  “Stay with me, babe, stay with me.  Cavalry is coming.”  

But we don’t have any horses…  

The wry smile on his face is blurry.  You must have whispered this out loud.  He closes his eyes, resets his metal hand down against the pavement.  Flexes up again.  “Aiighhh!”

The monumental effort gains another precious millimeter and the sparkly whiteness starts to fade to the indigo of his vest.

“What? Can’t you hear the hoofbeats?”  Bucky is shaking, sweat beading on his brow but above there is a whoosh and the carbon ion smell of repulsor jets.

“Got it, Barnes!”

“Took you long enough!”  Bucky sags just slightly, protecting you in case something shifts, but mercifully the metal does not move.  

Sam is crouched behind.  You dimly hear his coolly calm instructions. “Barnes, don’t let her move. Pretty sure those ribs are broken.  Can’t risk a pneumothorax.”  Bucky squeezes out, disappears through the gap but is quickly back again, metal fingers softly pressing a cannula to your nose.  The dizziness fades some more.

“Better?”  His Brooklyn accent aches with hopefulness.  

You nod, warily taking a deeper breath, feeling clean, cool air rush in. Fuck its good but lord it hurts.  At least the world does not swim.  Bucky reaches to brush some damp strands from off your brow and Sam passes a pad into the gap.  You hiss as he presses the treated gauze over the worst of the cut.  “Sorry.  Sorry.”

He glances around the narrow space.  You’re basically in a coffin.  Just wide enough for your hips and long enough for your feet.  When you flex your foot, your toes touch something that feels smooth.  A dish? A beam?  The girders of the tower have toppled like a marionette’s arms and legs when the control strings have been cut.  “Gonna take a bit to cut this mess.  Properly, so it doesn’t shift.”

Bucky’s right, but you’re worrying about the waste of time.  “Is it safe? The cell?”

You mean the rogue Hydra group, the reason why you’re here, because if it’s not, Jesus, you are going to thump him hard.  You’re useless pinned.  But if there’s shooting still going on…

“Relax, babe, we got ‘em.  That grenade was their hail mary pass and it’s failed.  Steve and Clint and Nat are mopping up.”

Thank God.  Some of the tension bleeds away, like steam from a radiator.  You shiver, shock starting to set in, and, tenderly, he drapes you with a silver thermal blanket.  It’s better, but now it’s time to wait.  Bright arcs of light shine through the cracks and you know Tony is working as fast as he can, but still it’s hard.  You’ve been strong forever, but the fear you’ve held a bay is now too much with Bucky near.  

A whimper escapes your lips.

“Shushhh, baby,” he croons, leaning near to cup your cheek with a warm hand. “I’m not going anywhere.   It’s all gonna be ok.”  But it really isn’t.  His other one, metal reflecting Tony’s blazing work, keeps stroking your tangled hair.  This close you can see a forest of tiny scrapes and nicks and cuts upon his dusty skin.

And the ever present smudges of tired grey below his eyes.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”  You’re stammering.  You’ve been selfish, you see that now. Doing what you thought right and best for him. Totally certain you had to be the one to help and all the time the ache of want has never stopped.  

It doesn’t matter.  You need to be strong for him.  Move on and let someone else have the watch.  

“I can’t do this anymore.”    

You’re not sure what you are speaking of: holding yourself together while he kneels and strokes your face, or staying at his side.  Both make sense.  The sounds of working are getting louder.  “Barnes, I’m almost through,” crackles through the link.  

A cool metal finger strokes your brow.  “Hey, not much longer now.”

You turn your head, catch the light in his worried eyes. “No..us, side by side.”  

There, you’ve said it.  SHIELD med will patch you up. Ship you out to base where you can crumble into dust somewhere on your own.

It’s brutal but better than being an irritant.  Scratching endlessly at the scab of him.  

“Goddammit, Y/N. You don’t have to go.”  

His growl is not hurt but sheer frustration.  There’s a storm in his eyes and in the flat set of his frown.  Bucky wriggles a little closer in, cradles you like the most precious thing in all the world.   “Fuck, it takes this battered brain a while, but, babe, you gotta hear me out.  I get it now.  You’re terrified that serving alongside someone who means too much makes you vulnerable.  Messes with your skills–but it doesn’t have to be that way.  There’s a shakedown sure, for a little while, but Clint and Nat–they manage.  Wanda manages with Viz.  Steve works alongside me and we may not be lovers but our bond is just as strong.” His lips pull into the saddest smile. “I fucking need you. You. Y/N. Not the Corporal with the medals.  I need you everywhere.  At night, when the monsters in my head crowd close and, in the day, when I need a snarky smile.  You are best thing I have had in my life and I can’t let that go.”  

Bucky’s face is almost pressed against your cheek.  It’s that smile, soft and warm, and just for you.  

Fire in the night and a watcher on your six.  

“I’ve tried, Doll, I really have, but it just doesn’t work. I need you, complicated as it is. And I won’t let you give up on us. Not without trying, anyway.”  

His whisper is rough with meaning.  He huffs out a little sigh and presses an achingly gentle kiss across your bloodied lips.

This time his kiss breaks you….

——————–

tags:  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @theycallmebecca @mewsiex @emilyevanston @mycapt-ohcapt  @pegasusdragontiger  @winters-beauty

@badassbaker @heather-lynn @saffreelove @loricameback @nomadicpixel @missfirstavenger @prplprincez @marvel-lucy

[superhusbands4ever]

Can you do a tony and bucky fic about one of then taking care of the other? Just like making a meal together or sharing popcorn on the couch while watching a movie?

I can, and I did. I changed the movie thing a bit to make it more intimate cuz I’m a huge sap. Also, this is from an outsider POV because that’s just how it happened, idk.

This is my first time writing WinterIron be gentle with me lol (Cross posted at Ao3)

~

Bucky was in the kitchen standing in front of the stove when Steve came back from showering. He noticed the plate of bacon and eggs next to Bucky and goes to grab some.

Only for his hand to get smacked by a spatula.

“Ow! Buck, what the hell?!”

“Mornin’, Stevie,” Bucky replies with a smile. “You can have the next batch. That one is taken.”

“By who,” Steve grumbles as he pours himself some orange juice.

“By Tony,” Bucky says, flipping the omelet he currently has cooking in the pan.

“Tony isn’t even in here!”

“It is…” Bucky checks his watch, “8:30 in the morning and Tony has a board meeting at 9. He was still asleep when I came back from my run so I came to make him breakfast since I knew his lazy ass was gonna oversleep.”

“How thoughtful,” Steve says quietly, rubbing his hand over the spot Bucky had hit.

“Oh shut up, you big baby and eat your omelet.” He slides the omelet onto a plate and hands it to Steve, who takes it and sits at the bar facing Bucky.

“I’m surprised Tony’s even going to this board meeting,” Steve says as he digs into his food. “Tony hates the board.”

“Yeah, well.”

Bucky goes to put the eggs and bacon into a travel container, stopping by the coffee pot to pour half the carafe into one of the biggest travel mugs Steve has ever seen.

“Pepper said if he didn’t show up to this one she was going to have JARVIS lock him out of the lab for a week.”

“Can she even do that?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Bucky said with a shrug, turning back to the stove to start another omelet. “I think he’s too afraid to find out. That woman is terrifying.”

Steve nods in agreement and continues eating while Bucky messes around with the stove. A few moments later, a frenzied and half dressed Tony runs into the room, briefcase in hand (which Steve knows for fact only contains two papers and half a bag of mini doughnuts), hair a mess, and tie crooked.

“I’m gonna be late, oh my god, Pepper is gonna kill me.”

“Relax,” Bucky says, stepping up to Tony and straightening his tie for him. “The meeting is ten floors down in your own building. I think you have time.”

“I don’t have time, I still have to eat, I still have to get my coffe-”

Tony is brought up short when Bucky turns around to grab the travel mug of coffee and the to-go plate of food and shoves them in Tony’s hands.

“Go,” Bucky says, laughing at Tony’s dumbstruck expression. “If you go now you’ll have time to eat that before the meeting starts.”

“How did you-”

“Someone has to remember when this shit ‘cause god knows you won’t.”

“I love you so much right now,” Tony said reverently.

“Good,” Bucky said, pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. “I’m hot shit. Now get goin’.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, babe,” Tony says, turning and striding towards the elevator. “Best sex of your life, I swear, I’m gonna fuck You straight through the mattress!”

“Can’t wait!” Bucky calls back, turning back to his pan to cook his omelet.

“I am sitting right here,” Steve said, a look of disgust on his face. “I am sitting here, an innocent man, trying to enjoy a nice, peaceful breakfast, and you two- OW!”

Bucky smirked at Steve with a playful glint in his eye, smacking Steve’s hand with the spatula again before sliding the next omelet onto Steve’s plate.

“Innocent my ass. Shut up and eat your food, punk.”

“Jerk.”

It was Thursday, which meant it was designated team movie night. It was Thor’s turn to pick, which usually meant they ended up watching some big blockbuster film. Tonight was Pirates of the Caribbean night.

The whole team was there, which was a rare thing these days, but it was something Steve appreciated. His team was important to him, basically his family, and he liked knowing they were all in one place, safe and at ease with each other.

He glanced at the others situated around the room. Steve was sitting on the couch with Bruce and Natasha, Nat laying with her head on the armrest and her feet in Bruce’s lap. Bruce was only really half paying attention, sometimes glancing at the TV, but mostly reading his book by his little book light. Clint was perched on the back of the couch snoring lightly, and Sam was in the armchair, watching the movie while playing some game on his laptop. Thor was sprawled out across the floor, hugging his pillow and completely enraptured by the movie. Lastly, Tony and Bucky were on the love seat, completely intertwined with each other and ignoring everything around them.

Tony was laying longways on the love seat, Bucky on his stomach between his legs, arms wrapped around Tony’s torso and head on his belly as he dozed lightly.

The last few days had been hard for Bucky. They had been in Russia, tracking down leads of a rogue HYDRA cell when they stumbled upon an old facility Bucky had been to before. He claimed he didn’t remember much about being there, but he remembered enough for it to cause horrible nightmares for days. Steve even had to talk Bucky down from the edge after he had accidentally hit Tony while in the throes of one of his worse dreams. He was sleeping better now, Tony assured him, but still fitfully, so it was nice to see him so relaxed now.

He glanced over at his two best friends and suddenly couldn’t look away, despite his intimate and private moment they seemed to be sharing.

Bucky had jerked awake a bit, not enough to alert anyone else, but enough to get Tony’s attention. Tony hands went to Bucky’s hair, running his fingers through it and whispering into Bucky’s ear.

“Hey baby, look at me… let me see those beautiful eyes of yours.”

Bucky tilted his head back enough to look up at Tony. Steve couldn’t see what Tony saw, but whatever it was, the genius melted at the sight.

“Shhh… I know baby, I know you’re tired.” Tony moved a piece of hair from Bucky’s face, hand caressing his cheek while his other hand rubbed up and down Bucky’s back.

“You’re not there anymore, James, ok? I won’t let them get to you again. You’re safe here, baby. Go back to sleep.”

Steve could see that Bucky had never really been fully awake, for as soon as he burrowed his head into Tony’s stomach he was out like a light again, soft snores mixing with Clint’s.

Bucky may have been asleep, but Tony’s eyes never left Bucky for a minute, the movie completely wasted on him. He continued to run his hands up and down Bucky’s back, hand occasionally coming up higher to run through Buck’s hair and to message the base of his neck. Tony had eyes only for Bucky right now, and Steve smiled at the absolute adoration and love he saw there.

Steve was happy for his two best friends. He was happy that they had found each other, and he was happy they had each other to lean on when they were having a tough time. He was glad that Bucky had found peace after all those years with HYDRA, and he was glad Tony found someone who he could open up completely to and be fully comfortable with.

When the movie ended, everyone stood up and made their way to their own rooms. Clint woke with a snort when Nat poked him, nearly falling off the back of the couch before following Natasha out.

Steve stopped by Tony, who was still on the love seat with the still sleeping Bucky.

“You need help getting this lug off ya?”

“No, I got it,” Tony smiled up at Steve, hands still running up and down Bucky’s back. “You go to bed.”

“Ok. Goodnight.”

“'Night.”

Steve smiled as he left, once again feeling grateful that his two best friends, who had both been through so much, were able to find comfort and companionship with each other.

“Bucky… James, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up… I know you’re tired, but you’re like a hundred years old, if you sleep on the couch you’ll throw your back out, old timer…”

Steve smiled. Yeah, they were good together.

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

She’s So High: Chapter 8

Summary: 90’s karaoke and your snarky wit seem to have revived the charming side of one Bucky Barnes. Everything comes full circle the morning after. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): Smut 18+. Swearing. Kissing, Fingering (female), Oral Sex (female receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex. Word Count: 1,996 Notes: Idea was inspired by this 90′s playlist. This chapter was beta read by the lovely @viktordrago. You all go thank her cause without her there would have been A TON of really laughable errors. Shout out to @stanclub for giving me some insight re: Steve and hair gel haha. Thank you so much to everyone for their likes and reblogs thus far. First series is done and in the bag! Anyone who left comments has literally melted my heart. I love you all Smut Note: ***DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, INTERACT WITH MY WORK IF YOU’RE NOT 18+*** It goes without saying, unprotected sex….please make sure your partners are clean and you use an agreed upon form of protection (if relevant).

You’re taken aback by the bright wash of sunshine flooding the room as your eyes flutter open. A room that is clearly not your room. Your half-awake brain remembers the events of last night sluggishly. This is Bucky’s bed… which would explain the large arm draped across your middle.

You savor the warmth from the sunlight spilling across the bed coupled with the warmth radiating from his body next to you. The soft sheets caress your naked skin as you stretch your muscles; careful not to wake Bucky.

You study his face. All the tension it normally holds during the waking hours is absent. His hair is strewn across his pillow. His limbs, all but the one anchoring you to him, seem to be splayed in every direction. You crane your neck to see the clock.

“Fuck.” You allow another five minutes to enjoy the proximity with the man besides you before carefully sliding under his arm.

You curse once more for sleeping in this late but allow it remembering fondly why you were so exhausted. Bucky had woken you up throughout the night. The first time he had ground gently against your backside. He nearly came from the wanton whines that permeated your dreams. When you stirred awake, he slid into you from behind; relishing in how soaked you had been for him.

The second time you had protested a bit, citing lack of sleep. Not easily deterred, his mouth worked your breasts with lavish kisses. All complaints died on your tongue when his head disappeared under the covers with his apology of “just once more for me, darlin’?” You could have sworn you heard a series of knocks clearly coming from the room next door. All worry dissipated as Bucky tongue fucked you through not one but two more orgasms.

The third time was entirely your “fault”. You had woken with your throat parched. Returning from the bathroom with a glass of water, you noticed a tempting tent in the sheets. Thinking you’d have the element of surprise, you were certainly shocked (though not complaining), when things ended with you bent over the side of the bed with Bucky’s cock pounding you into the mattress.

You smirk at the memories, attempting to find your clothing from the night before. Quickly giving up, you opt for Bucky’s flannel as a dressing gown. You’d be able to start breakfast in privacy and come back in normal clothes once the team was awake. Which would be soon if you didn’t hurry; you thought stealing a final glance back at Bucky’s sleeping form.

You’d settled on a batch of breakfast quiches for the team. You press play on your favorite playlist letting it provide a pleasant background soundtrack. Once the egg mixture was ready, you could throw it in the oven and probably catch another half hour of lazy morning cuddles with Bucky.

All the vegetables were chopped and ready for the filling. The only problem was you couldn’t remember the ratio of cream to egg. Pulling open the cabinets you see the cookbook you need propped on one of the top shelves. Clearly someone else had used it last. You would never have put it so out of reach. You stand on your tip toes and attempt to swat it down from its elevated prison.

You must have been engrossed in getting the cookbook down because Bucky is able to silently creep into the kitchen. He enjoys watching you struggle; finding your little frustrated cursing adorable.

You see the cookbook teetering, almost within reach, when a pair of hands land on your hips. You freeze but relax once you smell the familiar scent of him behind you. His head drops on your shoulder for a quick kiss behind your ear; hands dipping under the hemline of the flannel.

“You skippin’ out on me, dollface?” He mumbles into your skin.

“I needed to get breakfast in the oven before everyone is up. I was gonna hop back in bed with you while it bakes.” You resume your struggle to get the cookbook down as Bucky chuckles at you. “Would you quit laughing at me?! I need this cookbook. I can’t remember the ratiooooohh-”

Your reply turns to a moan. One of his hands detaches itself from its place on your hip, effortlessly grabs the cookbook, and tosses it on the island behind you; the other is occupied ever so softly stroking small circles into your clit. You collapse back down off your tip toes and let your weight fall back into his chest.

“Doll, you can’t go around stealing my shirts and making them look ten times sexier than I ever could.” His voice seems entirely unaffected but the sudden shift in mood. “I’m incredibly insecure and you’re showing me up.”

You can hear the smile in his words even if you weren’t feeling it in his lips which are now sloppily and lazily kissing up your neck. You sigh deeply enjoying the teasing sensations he’s sending through your body.

“Buck-” you whine gently, remembering where you are. “Someone is gonna hear us.”

He pulls back from you to quickly jab at the volume button; increasing the music so others don’t hear you. “Then you better be quiet, sweetheart.”

Needing to see his eyes, you turn around to face him. His hair is mussed. It looks like he’s thrown on the same black jeans from the night before. They hang obscenely low on his hips unbuttoned. He’s deliciously shirtless.  Warmth from the bedroom still clings to his skin.

“I distinctly remember a grumpy old man yelling at me for too loud of music this early in the morning.”

The pressure on your clit relents only to feel a digit slide into your core slowly, his thumb takes up the circles on your clit.

“Come back to bed darlin’. Sleeping in isn’t as fun without you there.”

“I have to make breakfast-” Your reply is choked off by a particularly strong wave of pleasure as his finger pushes pressure onto your g-spot. You open your eyes only to see a perfectly smug and unbothered face. If you didn’t feel his motions deep inside your now pulsing cunt, you would have guessed he was almost bored.

You try again to defend your actions, “Everyone will go hungry if-”

With his eyes locked on yours he adds a second finger into you. “Fuck.” He cocks his head to the side slightly and gives you his best shit eating grin.

“You were saying?”

“I’m out of excuses.” You mold your lips to his, giving into the pleasurable sensations. You attempt to walk him backwards out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

“Nuh uh,” he says with his mouth now sucking deep hickeys into your collar bone. “Wanna see you cum right here.”

You want to protest but the clench of your walls around his fingers betrays you before you can get a word out. You pant small breathy moans into his shoulder as he brings his lips to your ears.

“That’s it, darlin’. I can tell that turns you on.” You suppress another low moan and it comes out more of a whimper. “Knowin’ anyone could walk in… see you becoming a panting little mess stuffed with my fingers.”

At this point, you’re relying completely on Bucky for support; your legs have gone to Jell-O. “I can tell you’re close, doll. I feel you fluttering around me.”

The stretch and glide of Bucky’s fingers have you forgetting about the residual soreness. You bite your bottom lip; hoping it will keep you quiet enough. You’re ready to let go with your release-

“What the fuck, Barnes!” You whine angrily. His hand had abandoned your cunt right at the crucial moment. He’s pushed far away from you. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s plopped in one of the bar stools at the island casually flipping through the cookbook that had seconds before been abandoned.

You’re ready to beat the shit out of him but Tony and Steve round the corner. They’re deep in conversation and don’t look at either of you. Your eyes meet Bucky’s and they glint playfully. Your gaze moves to his hand holding the cookbook. Two of the fingers are obviously coated in your slick. Noticing your gaze, he moves the finger up to his mouth and licks it clean. You let out an uncontrolled gasp only to draw attention of Steve and Tony.

“You okay there, Y/N/N?” Tony says. You pry your eyes away from Bucky’s face you manage a nod. You refuse to look back at him, knowing full well he’s got the largest shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“What’s for breakfast? You need any help?” Steve asks. He moves to your side of the island; observing the slew of ingredients which sit deserted.

“Hold the phone… Y/N, where are your pants?” Tony interrupts. “I’m not objecting to the view. Just curious as to-”

There’s an uncomfortably long pause as Tony’s face flickers through a vast array of expressions. You and Bucky are frozen simply hoping he’s attempting to formulate some crude joke.

“Ahhhhh. Got it.”

“Got what?” Steve asks. Tony tuts and smiles like fox in the hen house. “GOT WHAT?! Steve yells more insistently looking at the two of you for some help.

“Tin Man and Y/N. That’s why they didn’t come back. It would appear they sang a little duet of their own last night.” He waggles his eyebrows daring you to refute him.

Steve’s face is a mask of confusion as he attempts to decode Tony’s statement. You and Bucky share glances back and forth debating your next point of action. You’re thinking of running for it but at this point the entire team has filed into the dining room and kitchen.

Steve’s face switches to one of epiphany as Bucky points a warning finger at Tony. Stark simply smirks, paying no mind to the threatening finger.

Rolling your eyes and deciding to intervene before you see how expertly Bucky decides to keep Tony silent; you gently grab his arm and kiss the tip of his finger lowering it back to his side.

“It’s fine, Buck. They’ll figure it out eventually”.

“Or literally as it’s happening.” Natasha yells from the kitchen. “I share a wall with you Barnes… just saying!”

“I’m now taking music requests and breakfast orders. Anyone who feels the need to comment on my activities last night won’t be eating!” You quickly decide to put an end to that conversation. A chorus of “okay okay” greet your ears. “That's what I thought.”

Everyone dissolves into their own morning conversations. You turn back to the food in front of you wondering if now it would be best to switch to omelets.

“Y/N/N.” Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, and you’re pulled into his little bubble. You wonder if his effect would ever wear off. You thoroughly hope it doesn’t.

In the background you hear, Steve describing how long it took to get all the gel out of his hair last night. Nat’s livid about getting her curling wand back covered in gel.

“You best hope it’s gel!” Sam shouts further antagonizing her. You chuckle slightly at your misfit family before giving Bucky your full attention once more.

“Doll, I wasn’t trying to keep us secret for any malicious reason. I hope you know that.” His expression is soft and hesitant. “I just wanted you to have your privacy. We hadn’t really discussed telling the team, yet.”

You kiss him once on the lips and again on his nose. “I know, Buck. Now, go grab the cookbook and help me feed the ungrateful goons.” You can’t help but adore how much Bucky’s beaming.

“You’re on bacon duty.”

“Babe! I’m shirtless. Gonna get little bacon burns everywhere.”

“Well if someone wasn’t so picky about his bacon crispiness…” you say with a wink.

[hellomissmabel]

Manhattan Mistress part 8

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Tony x reader and OC!Casey (daughter of Y/N and Tony)

Summary: Casey can’t sleep so you tell her a story. Steve turns out to be much more of a bad boy than you initially anticipated. Inspired by “Gangsta“ by Kehlani.

Word count: 4.176

Warnings: Some fluff, definitely some smut, talk of murder and cheating. Foul language too? Please do not read belong the cut if you’re not comfortable with any of forementioned!

A/N: Dedicated to my favourite mob AU writer @caplanbuckybarnes. Enjoy sweetie!

Part 6: the white noise

Part 7: the waiting game

Disclaimer: I do not own this pic, credit goes to the rightful owner.

The heathens

I need a gangsta To love me better Than all the others do To always forgive me Ride or die with me That’s just what gangsters do

It’s 2 a.m. in the morning and I’m contemplating life.

Well, I’m not exactly contemplating my life but more like the mob life in general. After my doctor’s appointment in, let’s say, 6 maybe 7 hours from now, fate will either have screwed me over or given me the greatest gift of all. But what do I have to offer this tiny human being apart from a very fucked up family and even more fucked up friends?

Natasha is an alcoholic and Clint gets off on blood and gore. Sam is a frequent visitor of Fury’s casino’s and an avid gambler, although I’m fairly sure that sooner rather than later he’ll choke on one of his precious peanuts first. As for Wanda, well, who knows what that little bitch is hooked on? Fortune cookies maybe?

What can I say, all my friends are heathens.

The baby’s two potential fathers aren’t much better either. Bucky’s practically a chimney with the way he’s been smoking cigarettes by the dozen these past couple days and Steve’s hunger for power will one day come back to bite him in the ass. My only hope is that my child won’t be a sex addict like her mother, that would bring me at least some small relief.

And God knows what’s on that flash drive I stole from Tony the other week. Every time I think about what I had to do in order to get my hands on it, cold shivers start to run up and down my spine. I swore I would never let that man lay a hand on me again and I broke my oath to myself. He’s neither a good nor a bad person yet all the skeletons I might find when I pay Scott a visit tomorrow might be too much for me to bear. I’m afraid of what I might find.

But I’m even more afraid of the consequences of what I did to obtain this information.

Scott’s a professional Dad but spends his free time playing the role of an ethical hacker. Even though I don’t know Scott that well, he has done some favours for me in the past and I greatly appreciate his help. He also knows that once he dares jeopardize our friendship, he will no longer have enough money to take care of himself, let alone his daughter. He says he found some interesting, highly encrypted files that I might find useful although he wouldn’t disclose anything else and sounded quite hesitant when I confronted him about it. Even so, he is willing to share them with me for a fair price and I also agreed to pay him a bit extra in exchange for his silence.

“Mommy?” A child’s voice disrupts my train of thoughts and I shoot up in my bed, quickly looking over to the other side of the bed to check if I didn’t wake up Steve but he’s still sound asleep, snoring a little and adorably scrunching his nose.

“Yes, Casey? Is everything alright?” My little girl is standing in the doorway, holding her teddy close to her chest and wiggling her feet, big brown eyes peering at me through the dim lighting of the moon.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and walk over to her, picking Casey up in my arms and nuzzling my nose in the nape of her neck which makes her giggle just a little. “Did you have another bad dream, honey?”

She doesn’t say anything, just rests her cheek on my shoulder while I carry her downstairs, careful not to make too much noise and startle Steve. I sit her down on the kitchen counter, leaning my forehead against hers as I cup her tiny face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the dimples in her soft cheeks as she laughs.

“Mommy that tickles!,” she titters and I ask her if she’d like me to make her some hot coco. She eagerly nods and as I gather all the ingredients, she tells me about her bad dream. It’s nothing too scary but she’s a little shaken up nonetheless.

“You want to hear a story?,” I propose and she cheers, waving her hands in the air and reaching out for the cup of chocolate milk. “Careful, little bug, it’s hot.”

Sitting down next to her on the kitchen counter, nursing my own mug of the sweet liquid, I begin to tell her the story of how her mommy and daddy met, experience reminding me it’s most likely the only story she’ll want to hear. “When mommy was younger, she was very in love with a boy called James. But you see, your grandfather didn’t like James so he scared him away and made mommy really sad.”

She makes a disappointed sound as tears well up in her eyes. “Mommy don’t be sad,” she pouts and I pull her in for a hug, kissing the crown of her head and murmuring a reassuring “As long as you’re here, little bug, mommy will never be sad.”

After a minute or so I release her, resuming my story. “Then mommy met daddy who was one of your grandfather’s friends. You see, your daddy had been in love with your mommy for a very long time. But he never said anything because mommy is much younger than daddy and daddy was afraid your grandfather would disapprove. He was the only one who saw how unhappy mommy was and he tried to make it better.”

“Did he kiss it better just like you do with all my booboos?,” she asks innocently, eyes wide in eagerness and batting her thick eyelashes at me.

I chuckle softly. “Yes he did. Then mommy fell in love with your daddy too and we were very happy. And just when we thought life couldn’t get any better, we had you.” Casey’s eyes are twinkling with curiosity. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve already told her the story, she always seems to enjoy it more and more.

Nevertheless, there’s a downside to this story, one Casey knows all too well. “But daddy has a very busy job and with daddy work always came first, making mommy very sad again.”

Puckering, her little hands squeeze yours. “Is that why you met Steve? Tell me, mommy, I want to know,” she quips with her adorable childlike enthusiasm.

“You remember Sam’s bar, the Cuckoo’s Nest?” Casey shakes her head yes. “Well, mommy used to be a singer there too when she was younger and that’s how she met Steve. One night he came to see me sing and he paid mommy a big compliment.”

“I told her she had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had woken up shortly after you and Casey went downstairs. He wondered where you had gone and went to take a peek in Casey’s room when he heard your voice. Tiptoeing down the stairs, he remained hidden in the dark shadow of the staircase, eavesdropping on the two of you to see what you were discussing in the middle of the night.

He didn’t like hearing how much you used to love Bucky. The only reason he ever employed the guy is because it’s the only way he could ever keep an eye on him. Steve knows Bucky and his wife are too close for comfort, but there’s nothing he can do about it as long as Tony’s still in the picture. He promised himself that he would get rid of that fucker first before messing with Y/N’s boy toy. However, that doesn’t mean he’s just going to stand idly by when you reminiscence about your lovers Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark. So when you reached the subject of how your first meeting, he decided to intervene.

“You see, I had heard many great stories about your mommy’s voice, but I still wanted to hear it for myself. One night I let the people who were working on my campaign at the time off work early and found myself taking a detour to Sam’s bar. It’s been a while since I had seen him and I wanted to catch up. I didn’t know your mother was going to sing there that evening, but I hoped she would.”

Your little girl is absolutely infatuated with Steve and it awakens a small sting of envy and concern in your chest. It’s understandable that Casey is the apple of Tony’s eye, but the prospect that Steve might be equally besotted with your daughter is something you have never given too much thought. Until now.

“So when Sam noticed just how much Y/N had me under her spell, he asked me if I wanted to meet her in person. Of course I said yes and we spent the entire night talking. Sam even had to kick us out in the end,” Steve says coming to stand behind to you, lacing his arms around your waist and pecking your cheek before resting his chin on the top of your head.

You allow yourself to lean into his broad frame, the comfortable and familiar warmth of his body making you feel at home. A house is not a home until you have someone to come home to, your nanny always used to say. Yet you’re fairly sure your nanny would’ve disagreed with that someone being Steve. She never liked Bucky either and only knew Tony for a brief period of time before she passed away, but she valued her principles more than anything else and if she were still alive, she would’ve smacked you in the face for sleeping with a married man.

Casey holds her hand in front of her mouth, stifling a yawn. “Is my little bug tired?,” Steve coos sweetly and she answers his question with a beaming yet lazy smile, her eyes already falling shut.

“I’ll take her to her room and tuck her in,” Steve suggests, kissing you lightly on the lips before cradling Casey in his arms and carrying her sleepy form upstairs.

You finish your hot coco and follow suit, sliding underneath the duvet and listening to the sounds coming from the room next to the master bedroom. You can make out Steve’s affectionate voice and Casey’s exhausted sniggers, hearing how he promises her to take her out for ice-cream the next day if she has a good night sleep.

I’m fucked up, I’m black and blue I’m built for all the abuse I got secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows I’m good on that pussy shit I don’t want what I can get I want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows

A minute or so later, the door to your bedroom creaks open and Steve joins you in the bed. Lazily throwing his arm around you, he rolls you on top of him until your body is draped over his in a warm unison. Your right hand rests on his heart and you can feel the steady beat pulsate underneath your touch. Looking up into Steve’s eyes you catch him smiling down at you.

“You and your daughter,” he whispers tenderly, “Are my girls. I will do whatever is necessary to keep my girls safe.”

“Steve…,” you begin but the soft press of his lips against your forehead silences you.

“I wasn’t finished,” he says gently. “What I’m trying to say is, we have a family here and you never let your family down. I don’t intend to go anywhere, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’ll stick by your side. Whatever decision you make, I’ll wholeheartedly accept it.” By now his voice is slightly breaking. “And I am so sorry for treating you the way I did. I was drunk and I was horny. I love you, Y/N. I love Casey, too. Will you please forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear,” you sigh, your lips automatically drawn to his when his pleading eyes shine in perplexity at your words.

The kiss slowly comes to a start, hesitation reigning in both your hearts. Steve’s dirty blond tresses are so delicate underneath your fingertips, your hands weaving nonsense patterns into his hair as his mouth gives you open access. Now sliding entirely on top of Steve’s muscular body, he is able to pull you both upwards in one swift motion, tucking your legs around his thighs as you are able to straddle him now.

Your tongue skims his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen this kiss. It’s then that Steve’s lips move away from yours and you search his eyes for the reason why. “I knew Peggy was wrong about you,” he murmurs into your ear, his teeth nibbling onto your earlobe, lips capturing it into his mouth.

Almost too far gone to properly register what Steve has just said, you swallow a hoarse moan spilling from your lips. One hand gripping his hair tightly, you pull him away from your neck where he is attempting to suck a dark bruise onto the fragile skin of your sweet spot. “Say that again?,” you demand adamantly, tugging at his blond locks so his eyes cannot escape yours.

“I knew Peggy was wrong about you. She was sure you were just a piece of ass to me, sure I would never come running back to you. Peggy was convinced you simply enjoyed taking my cock because no one else would pay any attention to you. But you don’t have to worry about Peggy, sweetheart,” he purrs modestly, brushing some stray curls from your eyes. “She’s dead. She can’t keep us apart anymore.”

“I know, Stevie, I know,” you release in a deep sigh. “Peggy is dead and I am about to fuck her widower. Strange how life works out in the end, isn’t it?” A small smirk appears which Steve takes as a sign to continue his worshipping.

I need a gangsta To love me better Than all the others do To always forgive me Ride or die with me That’s just what gangsters do

He resumes devoting his body to you, teeth tugging at your bottom lip and hands hiking up your night gown. You do not resist as he removes it from you or when his lips suckle on your nipple whilst the fingertips of his free hand pinch the other. You completely let go and throw you head back as his hands cup your sex, alerting you he’s ready for more.

Allowing him to take control, your hands trail down his chiselled abdomen to the hem of his t-shirt as you help him take it off. Sitting back on your calves, Steve is able to shimmy out of his boxer briefs, revealing his rock hard cock. He’s already dripping precum and you lower your head, tying your hair back with one hand so the other can play with his balls while you lick a broad strip from the base of his shaft to the very tip.

“Y/N, I need to be inside of you. N-N-No time for foreplay, hun.”

His voice is strained and you take it as a good sign. “Don’t be vanilla, Stevie” you coo as you hover over his crotch, lining yourself up with his beautifully thick shaft. “Do to me what you could never do with Peggy.”

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. You can clearly observe the shift in demeanour as the light green specks drowning in his cerulean blue irises visibly light up. “Then get on all fours, baby,” he orders in a domineering tone. “Let your daddy fuck you hard.”

His dick pumps in and out of you at a bruising pace, his fingers digging into the cheeks of your ass as he holds them apart, allowing him a perfect view of his well-endowed manhood ruining your tight cunt. Trying your best to stifle your moans so Casey doesn’t hear what her mommy and Steve are up to this early in the morning, the pillows offers a most welcome distraction.

Steve’s teeth attack your shoulder as he lunges his torso onto your back, lips trailing down your spine in a low growl. He’s close and by the way your pussy is clenching his throbbing penis, you’re on the very brink of your orgasm as well. One hand leaves your soft bottom to play with your clit, his calloused fingertips relentlessly flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves as you bite down hard on your bottom lip, almost drawing blood at the overstimulation of your senses.

Just as you’re about to cum hard on his cock, Steve yanks you by your (Y/H/C) swirls and pulls your back flush against his chest. His left hand remains locked in place on your hip, the other lacing around your throat, turning your head away from him so your neck is exposed to the mercy of his teeth. He soothes the mark immediately after but this moment of tenderness does not last long as the hand that was around your throat, dances lower towards your entrance.

Without much further ado, Steve adds two extra fingers, dipping into you with such force and ferocity the pleasure is overwhelming. He’s testing you, stretching you out to see how much you can take before plummeting into an abysmal state of bliss. Groaning into your ear, Steve whispers an “I love you” knowing it will most likely deliver you the release you have been milking out of him.

Slapping your behind harshly, Steve’s hand on your lower back pushes drives you into the mattress. “Turn around, Y/N. You’ve indulged me, so let me pleasure you now.”

Your arousal quickly gains the upper hand and you roll over onto your back, legs still widely spread and crooking a finger to call Steve over. Kinking an eyebrow in suggestion and seduction, you watch as his hands work his still half-hard cock before lining up at your entrance again. Since all three men you’ve ever laid down with are delectably large, you have no issue taking him in one go, your juices in the aftermath of your first orgasm serving as enough lubricant for the second go.

This time the sex is more intimate. It’s not making love, for that Steve’s too hard on you, but it’s a proper fucking you thoroughly enjoy. Your legs are hooked around his slim waist, one of his hands teasing your breast as the other drawing nonsense pattern underneath your jaw. When you kiss, you do not tangle your fingertips in his hair, rather opting to rake them down his sculpted back and leave a visible red mark.

My freakness is on the loose And running all over you Please, take me to places that nobody, nobody knows You got me hooked up on the feeling You got me hanging from the ceiling Got me up so high I’m barely breathing So don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me go

“Go faster, Steve. Don’t hold back on me now,” you encourage breathlessly.

You want him to remember this night just as much as you wanted him to remember the night he forcefully took you without your immediate permission. You want him to commit to memory how good it feels to fuck your woman when you have her consent.

Gasping when he hits your g-spot, you’re about to see stars. “I can be an obedient girl. I can be everything you want me to be,” you heave out in bits and pieces, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Another moan is ripped from your throat as he knocks his pelvis against yours, grunting ferally in approval. “I can be your wife, your mistress and your baby girl. I can even be your whore for fuck’s sake.”

“I don’t need a whore,” he pants into the crook of your neck. “I’m banging the fucking Brooklyn mob boss, why would I ever need a freaking whore.”

Crying out when another wave of cloud nine hits you, your coital haze blurs your line of vision so you can’t see his pearly whites scraping along your cheeks. Feeling his nose caress yours, you peck his lips in a chaste kiss, mainly because you’re unable to do anything else but focus on how he’s pounding into you still.

And then it hits you. “You bastard!,” you exhale loudly over the sound of both of you grunting and grinding in perfect synchronicity, your body remembering every ridge and every valley of Steve’s body. “You knew the whole time!”

He captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his hips jolting forward with a renewed power, laughing darkly at your indignation. Tearing your lips away from his, your fists connect with his firm chest, his thrust faltering just the slightest in anticipation of his orgasm. You continue to punch him but your determination is no match for his strength and he easily pins your hands above your head, a devious grin curling his lips upwards.

“Of course I did, darling,” he chuckles cunningly. Steve’s pupils are lust-blown, the deep black rims have completely absorbed the natural oceanic blue. He leans in closer, sharply snapping his hips and you cry out in ecstasy. “Peggy’s dead and you have me to thank for it.”

His head drops in between the valley of your breasts and you love the soft scratch of his day-old stubble more than you should at this point. Coming undone for the third time that night, Steve tumbles down into the rapture with you. Huffing heavily with the exertion, Steve’s weight settles into your body, the thick vein of his penis still pulsating inside of you.

“That was so good, baby. Please don’t be mad, I did it for us.”

“Get the fuck off me, Rogers,” you grit your teeth. He does as you command, moving over to his side of the bed again, his arm still resting on your bare stomach. The soothing tenor of his laugh is a mixture of recognition and endearment, the bile rising in your throat as your heart still skips a beat at the signature sound.

You sit upright in the bed, prying his arm away from you but Steve doesn’t give up so easily. Suddenly gripping your wrist, he prevents you from leaving the bed. “Y/N, for crying out loud, will you fucking listen to me?”

Snagging your hand away from him when his grasp on you wavers, you bundle the sheets around your exposed chest and turn your head to face him. “Then better start talking. I keep a gun between my stockings, so you are warned.”

“I’ll explain everything to you if you’ll just let me.” He holds his hands up in surrender and you nod in agreement.

Wiping the sweat away from his forehead, the bed dips slightly when he goes to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washing cloth for the both of you. “Here, let me help clean you up first.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you touch me, Steve,” you scowl hot-headedly. “You keep your filthy hands away from me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

His eyebrows knit together in an ugly frown while he sets his right knee down on the edge of the bed, drawing his face closer to yours. “If you want to know the truth, you’ll let me take care of you.” It does not sound like a threat, but there is definitely a warning hidden away in the intimidating tenor to his husky voice.

Laying back on the bed with an annoyed glare, you pull your knees up so Steve can settle between them. His touch is caring and careful as he gingerly wipes away the excess arousal. “You know,” he says in a teasing tone when he finishes up, “It’s been a while since I’ve tasted you.”

“Oh fuck off,” you throw back at him, cocking your head so your eyes do not fall on his hands tending to his own member with a second washing cloth, throwing it in the bathroom sink on his way over to the bed.

“I love you, Y/N, don’t you for a second doubt that,” he starts off his soliloquy with a plea. “I never intended to keep this from you, but if you must know all my secrets, I am willing to tell you everything. I don’t want them to create a wedge between us. But you have to promise me that you won’t kill me.”

“I can’t promise you a thing,” you spit out. “You’re lucky I haven’t kicked you out yet. I don’t want a killer near my daughter.”

He releases a bouldering laugh. “You don’t want a killer near your daughter?” He shakes his head, a wicked grin adorning his darkened features. “Oh doll, you have no idea, do you? You have no idea what kind of man I am, what kind of man you love.”

Part 9: the killers

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