#this is for the five sentence fic mini master list

[hold-him-down]

Yall what’s the consensus on the mini/five sentence fics?

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.5

Summary: Bucky & Steve’s date has some unintended consequences forcing Bucky to make some hard decisions. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: Attempted child abduction. Emphasis on ATTEMPTED. Becca will be fine ya’ll. 

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Remember last chapter where I was like “oh hey enjoy this unusually large chapter”? Well, I went to write a normally sized chapter and my hand slipped. Whoops! Enjoy another giant beast chapter lovelies! And don’t hate me for the angst!! I promise this fic has a happy ending, it’s just a long road to get there. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Five

Bucky wakes to bright light streaming in his bedroom window and Becca sitting on top of him. “Wake up sleepy head!” she chirps, shoving his shoulder as hard as she can. 

“Whoa, calm it down little miss.” Bucky grumbles. 

“I’m gonna be late!” 

Bucky looks over at the alarm clock and realizes she’s right. “Shit.” 

“Bad word!!” 

“Becca!” Bucky snaps and instantly regrets it. “Quieter, bug. Please. Come on, let’s get moving.” 

Bucky hurries Becca through her morning routine, grabbing her tiny backpack and breakfast on their way out the door. Bucky knows he’s a mess, hair sloppily thrown up in a bun, sweatpants and a hoodie because he just can’t take the time to find real clothes. He doesn’t even bother to throw on his prosthetic. Becca nibbles at her string cheese and mini muffins as they hustle down the busy city sidewalks to her school, just finishing as they round the last corner. He gives her a quick hug and kiss before she runs into the building screeching hello to the teacher at the door. The teacher gives Bucky an odd look that he chalks up to him looking like a hot mess and he gives her a small wave and terse smile in return. 

It’s early yet and Bucky doesn’t have to worry about work for a few more hours so he decides to splurge and stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich on his walk home. One treat won’t hurt and he’s still holding on to the warm feeling in his chest from last night’s date with Steve. Waiting in line a few other people give Bucky strange looks and he wonders how rough of shape he’s in. He prays there isn’t a giant rip on his clothes or something but after a discrete check he doesn’t think that’s the case. Just a weird morning then. 

The hoodie actually comes in handy once Bucky realizes he can’t carry both a sandwich and his coffee when he’s down an arm. Tucking the sandwich in his hoodie pouch, he sips the pumpkin spice latte slowly enjoying the sweet fall flavors on his way home. His phone starts chirping at him but with no free hand Bucky is forced to ignore it until he gets back to the apartment. It was going off earlier too and he figures who ever needs him so damn bad can just wait five more minutes. 

Bucky stretches out on the sofa to enjoy his breakfast, throwing on a random movie from his queue, when he finally looks at his phone. He wonders if the world is ending and he missed it somehow. Eight missed calls from Steve, two voicemails, and four texts. Two calls from Natasha, one voicemail, and two texts. Three texts from Clint. 

Natasha wants to know if he’s seen the news, if he’s okay, and what she can do to help. 

Clint also asks if he’s okay and tells him he’s an ass for not sharing the deets. 

Steve asks him repeatedly to call him, frantically apologizing in between. 

Still confused and becoming increasingly worried, Bucky brings up the news on his phone and finds his own face on the front page. The picture is from the night before, he and Steve walking back to his place with Becca on Steve’s shoulders. They look so happy that it tugs at Bucky’s heartstrings before the realization of what this means sinks in. He shoots a quick text to Natasha assuring her that he’s fine and he’ll catch up with her tonight. Clint gets two emojis in response: a thumbs up and the middle finger. Steve, he actually calls back. The blonde had sounded so worried in his voicemails. 

“Bucky, thank god.” Steve blurts out in lieu of hello. 

“Well good morning to you too.” Bucky jokes. 

“Are you okay? Is Becca okay?” 

“Yeah, Steve, we’re good. I just dropped Becca off a preschool. I don’t know what you’re worried about, it was a normal morning outside of a few funny looks. But honestly that was probably me going out looking like a hobo because I overslept.” 

“Buck…” Steve falters, “It won’t be long ‘til they figure out who you are. We can keep the press at bay here in the tower but you’re going to have some serious issues as soon as a reporter gets your name. You and Becca could come stay here for a bit or I can have a security team allocated to you both until the news dies down.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down a minute. We don’t need security and I’m not dragging Becca to Manhattan just because some dudes with cameras may or may not come pester us. We’ll be okay.” 

“I’m just worried about you guys. You didn’t sign on for the shit storm that’s blowing up right now. I’m so sorry, Buck.” 

“Actually, I did.” Bucky points out, “I’m not stupid, Steve. I knew what I was signing on for the minute we started talking. It’s gonna be okay, nothing lasts forever and Becca is a resilient kid.” 

Steve is quiet for a long moment, trying to compose himself to say what he knows he needs to say. “If you need to take some time apart until this all dies down…” he chokes up and lets the sentence lie. 

“No.” Bucky’s voice is firm. “I’m not running on you again. We’re gonna deal with this together.” 

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily in relief, “I’m going to be tied up today doing interviews. Apparently there’s no hiding the fact that I’m bisexual now. It’s funny that I’ve never tried to hide it but the news is claiming I’ve been ‘publicly outed’ by the tabloids. I’m not going to say a whole lot about you, about us. I don’t want to speak for you or anything. But if you’re okay with it, I would like to confirm that I’m in a relationship and that I care about you very much.” 

“Aww, you big sap. Yeah, of course that’s fine.” 

“Can I call you later when I have time?” 

“I’m working tonight but I’ll have a chance for a quick break around 10pm.” 

“I’ll talk to you then. If you need anything, I mean it Buck, anything, just call me. I’ll pick up on national TV if I have to.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and hopes Steve can feel his exasperation through the phone lines. “Get going, ya punk. You have a country full of conservatives to horrify with your secret homosexual agenda.” 

Steve laughs, the first bit of happiness he’s had since waking up to the news. “Will do.” he says quickly and hangs up before his overly dramatic heart can blurt out something terribly stupid like I love you. He pushes down the tender, fledgling emotion, knowing it’s too fast but feeling the gentle flutters nonetheless. 

Natasha arrives at Bucky’s apartment a full hour early that night so he can get her caught up while making dinner for her and Becca, while Becca watches an episode of Wonder Pets in the living room. Natasha apparently watched a few interview clips of Steve’s and teases Bucky over how completely smitten they both are. It’s nice and normal, the teasing and banter over a new relationship with his best friend. It makes him think Steve really was just being overly concerned with his fears.

It’s a blessedly slow night at the ER and no one seems to recognize Bucky as he hops from one patient to the next, getting people stabilized and ready to be seen by one of the doctors on shift. When Steve calls at ten he sounds better than he had that morning. He’s exhausted from the media circus but pleased that he was able to get the story out in his own words. He asked for privacy for all their sakes but knows it won’t last long. Bucky continues to assure him that they’ll handle things as they come and to not worry. Steve can’t help but feel like it’s the calm before the storm. 

The calm only lasts until 2am. Dr. Strange pulls Bucky out of a patient room, pushing Darcy in to take his place and dragging him down the hall to the staff break room. “What the hell?” Bucky demands once the door is shut. 

Strange’s face is grim, “There are currently fifteen reporters in the lobby all asking if you’re working and if anyone has a statement they’d like to make.” 

Bucky’s stomach drops, “Fuck.” 

“Yes, fuck indeed. I’ve already made some calls and the police are on their way to clear house. We don’t expect that to last however. HR is willing to give you the rest of this week off, paid, while we sort out protocol for this sort of thing. Amanda will call you tomorrow to talk details once the board meets and decides what we can do to protect both you and our patients. We obviously can’t have reporters milling around every time you work.” 

Bucky doesn’t even know what to say. 

“If you want to go gather your things, Paul in security will escort you out the back away from the reporters.” 

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, because really what else can he do?

Darcy catches up with him as he’s packing up his locker, “They’re sending you home?” she cries, pulling him into a hug. 

Bucky nods numbly, “Rest of the week, yeah. They have to, there’s too much going on right now. It’s paid at least.”  

“Well that’s something.” Darcy concedes. “How are you getting home? It’s a madhouse out there.” 

“Paul’s gonna have me go out the back. I’ll be okay.” 

“Call me if you need me.” she insists, giving him another tight hug. 

Bucky promises he will and then follows the kindly old security guard through the maze of hospital halls and outside. 

The air is bitter cold and Bucky’s thankful for his heavy jacket as he hurries down the mostly empty streets home. Natasha is tapping away on her laptop when he arrives. She does cyber security work and swears she gets most of her work done after midnight anyway. It works out well when he needs help on his overnight shift rotations. 

“What happened?” she demands and slams the lid of her laptop down. 

Bucky shucks off his jacket and joins Natasha on the sofa. “Reporters showed up at the hospital, like a lot of them. Strange was on tonight, thank god, he’s a tough son of a bitch and he wasn’t putting up with crap from anyone. They snuck me out the back while the cops got rid of the reporters.” 

“But what about tomorrow? Is this gonna affect your job?” 

Bucky shrugs, trying to ignore the low level fear humming in his veins over that exact concern. “I honestly don’t know. HR is gonna call me tomorrow once they figure out ‘protocol’ for this. Somehow Strange got them to give me the rest of the week off with pay. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with myself for the next six days.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, surprised and happy for him. “I vote catching up on your Netflix queue and being a lazy ass. You never take a break, Bucky. And you of all people deserve one. Maybe go spend some more time with that gorgeous boyfriend of yours. Some kid-free time, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows until Bucky throws a pillow at her. She ducks easily, laughing. “I’m just saying! It’s been a long time since he-who-shall-not-be-named.” 

Bucky bristles at the mention of his ex. He should have seen Brock for the piece of shit he was, but he’d missed it at first, too wrapped up in the bliss of a new relationship. In the end, Brock’s true colors had come out and Bucky had ended things before it could become even more toxic than they already become. He sighs, pushing the ugly memories away. “It hasn’t been that long. And you’re forgetting Micah from the hospital cafe.” 

“It’s been four years since him. And Micah doesn’t count. That was a year ago and it didn’t go past a lunch date where he, and I quote, kissed you like a St. Bernard.” 

Bucky shudders at the memory. “Okay, so it’s been a while. Maybe I will go see Steve one day while Becca’s at school.” 

“That’s more like it!” Natasha cheers quietly, cautious to not disturb Becca. “So, do you want company or should I scoot and let you get some rest?” 

“I love you for offering but I just wanna crash. If I can get a few hours now I’ll be able to get back on daytime hours easier.” 

“Love you too.” Natasha leans over to hug him before packing up her stuff and heading out. 

It was a crazy day but as Bucky climbs into bed, he’s still resolved that it’s going to be okay again soon. 

Bucky is groggy when his alarm goes off at 7am but it’s better than he would have been if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Becca is thrilled that he’s home and even more so when he tells her that he’ll be home the rest of the week. They make plans over breakfast for things they can do after she gets out of school since they have all the time in the world now. Bucky compromises with one quick park trip, which he cringes thinking about but he’ll just have to pack her inhaler and make sure she takes breaks, two trips to the library, and one night they’ll grab dinner at the neighborhood diner for their kids eat free night. 

The week flies by and Bucky gets the all clear on Thursday to return the following Sunday once the hospital is able to put additional security in place. He’s thankful they’re not just letting him go to avoid all the hassle but several nurses and doctors apparently made their opinions loud and clear that he was worth the additional security measures. Bucky is eternally grateful for his coworkers and makes plans to take in a tray of thank you brownies on his first shift back. 

A second round of good news comes in a few hours later; Steve is back early from his latest mission. They make plans for the following day, unwilling to wait any longer to see one another again. Steve will be, in theory, just hanging around the tower wrapping up some post-mission paperwork from earlier in the week so he’ll be able to take most of the day to show Bucky around the tower and spend time with him. He also offered to take them all to The Met after Becca gets out of school and Bucky said he’ll consider it. It’s a little extravagant, but something about picking her up together and going on an outing tugs at his heartstrings. It’s so perfectly domestic, like a real family would do. Bucky tries to ignore the longing he feels for something he’s never let himself consider before. 

There’s a lone reporter lingering outside his apartment when Bucky heads out to pick up Becca from school. There were a lot the first two days but their numbers dropped off drastically when they realized he really wasn’t all that interesting. “Hey man.” Bucky gives the reporter a little wave. He has to give the guy credit for determination. “Still not going to do anything interesting, sorry.” 

The reporter huffs a laugh, “Ya never know!” 

Bucky laughs in return and heads off, trying to ignore the fact that the man is following him a few steps back. He gives the guy a few more days before he gives up too. Bucky is a single parent with a full time job, he doesn’t have the time to do anything interesting. 

Rounding the corner to Becca’s school he spies the little girl talking to a man in a long beige wool coat. The man is tall and thin with greying hair and wire framed glasses. His appearance screams of wealth in a way that would make him fit right in as a parent of someone at the school, but something is off and Bucky steps up his pace. Becca hasn’t spotted him yet but he hears the man ask “Your daddy is friends with Captain America isn’t he?” 

Becca, all proud smiles, informs him, “He’s my brother, not my daddy. And Captain America is his boyfriend.” 

“Isn’t that nice. Hey, I have something you can give your brother for me, okay? Can you be a big helper? It’s right over here.” Becca looks unsure so the man smiles brightly and takes her hand, leading her down the sidewalk away from the school. A black van pulls up at the end of the block, a door swinging open and the man hurries her along. 

Bucky screams Becca’s name and breaks out into a full run. Icy fear consumes him, driving him to move faster than he ever has before. Please God no, please, don’t let them take my baby girl. 

The reporter realizes what’s going on and sprints right along with Bucky. They collide with the man and Becca at the same time. The reporter tackles the man, pinning him to the ground, leaving Bucky to grab Becca and roll to the ground shielding her in his arms. A teacher runs over with her phone out yelling “The police are on their way!” to them. 

The man writhes underneath the reporter, trying to free himself while looking panickedly at the van. The van door slides shut and then the vehicle flies off with screeching tires. Once it’s out of sight the man lays his head back on the pavement in defeat.

“Just stay put buddy.” the reporter grumbles. 

Now that Becca is safe Bucky is filled with a depth of rage he didn’t even realize he was capable of. Somebody tried to snatch his baby girl right in broad daylight. Bucky checks her over one more time before passing her off to the teacher who’s still holding on the line for 911. 

Bucky stalks over to where the reporter still has the man pinned. His movements are predatory, his voice low, practically a grow, when he demands, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The reporter just stares at the man, also waiting for an answer. 

“I am one of many.”

Bucky shakes his head. God, he just wants to punch this guy in his smug face. “Fine. Who do you work for?” 

“Cut off one head and two more take its place.” 

“I’m getting real sick of riddles and I still got at least two minutes before the cops show. Last time, asshole. Who the fuck do you work for and why do you want my kid?”

“The child, or you, it matters not. Either will get us the captain. We are everywhere. We will come again, and we will succeed. Hail Hydra.” The man crunches down on something and within seconds he’s foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling lifeless back in his head.

Bucky looks to Becca, thankful the teacher is shielding her away from what took place. Ice cold fear runs in his veins. He knew there could potentially be a risk dating Steve, but it was an abstract sort of knowledge. Up until minutes ago he’d thought the only real concern was pesky reporters. Most of which, he has to admit, are actually good people just trying to make a living. A real threat, a fucking terrorist threat, is something he’d never really put much thought into. That name too: Hydra. Everyone knows of the Nazi group who Captain America has been trying to destroy since the 40s. A threat from them is very, very real. 

The cops arrive and start dispersing the crowd that’s formed. It seems like forever until they’ve taken statements from everyone and the body is removed. Becca holds up as well as a four year old can trying to answer the police man’s questions, and Bucky fills in gaps as he can. They take his statement too and let him know they can provide a security detail if he wants. The officer looks sheepish but also recommends he call Steve because Shield and the Avengers can likely provide better security than the NYPD can. Bucky thanks the officer and agrees to call Steve as soon as possible. 

Becca is shaking so hard by the time they head home that Bucky scoops the little girl up to carry her the whole way. Two uniformed officers follow them back and do a full sweep of the apartment just to err on the side of caution. Buck appreciates the security but as he stands in his too quiet apartment he realizes he can’t do this every day. He adopted Becca to give her a better life and now he’s put her in more danger than she ever would have been in being raised by their parents. All because some small part of him still held on to the hope that there was someone out there that he could love and would love him back wholeheartedly and forever. That despite his upbringing, he could have a perfect family of his own one day. Bucky feels painfully childish that his pathetic longing for a partner had almost cost him his sister. 

Ever the responsible parent, Bucky stifles the emotions whirling in his chest and puts on a good front for Becca’s sake. She falls asleep halfway through Frozen II and Bucky doesn’t even bother trying to wake her. He knows there’s no fighting the adrenaline crash she’s feeling. His own crash will be equally brutal when it comes, but for now it’s still nowhere in sight. Bucky is too keyed up, restless and desperately trying to find a solution that keeps all of them safe and happy. He drags a cup of coffee and a blanket out onto the fire escape where he sits to watch the sun drop lower and lower among the roof tops. He’s almost finished his drink when a knock sounds on the door. 

The security detail is supposed to be vetting anyone going near his apartment so the odds are good it’s someone he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from slipping a kitchen knife into his hand on the way to the door. Peering through the peephole Bucky sees red hair, black leather, and a very pissed off Natasha. “Let me in.” she says, it sounds like a warning. 

Bucky opens the door and stands out of the way. It’s not worth arguing with Natasha when she gets like this. 

“You turned off your phone.” She comments without emotion. 

Bucky nods. “I don’t want to deal with it right now.” 

Natasha follows him as he heads to the kitchen to return the knife, seemingly pleased by his caution. “By it, you mean Steve.” 

“Amongst other things.” 

“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need, just name it.” 

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I keep coming to the same answer and I hate it, Nat. I just… I can’t do this to Becs.” Bucky’s voice cracks on the little girl’s name and Natasha wraps her best friend into a tight hug. 

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“I don’t even know how to do what I want to do. I’m sure it’s not nearly as easy as movies make it out to be.”

“Let me help. You and Becca mean the world to me. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out together.” 

Bucky sighs heavily, still leaning on Natasha. “We need to disappear.” 

Natasha goes still, “Are you sure?” 

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. Even if I break up with Steve, Hydra can still use us as leverage. Feelings don’t just disappear... But people can.” 

“Okay. Give me four hours.” Natasha pulls back and starts texting rapidly on a small cell phone Bucky has never seen before. 

“What the fuck, Nat.” 

“Working in cyber security has some perks.” She shrugs. 

“I don’t think it’s normally supposed to have those kinds of perks.” 

“Well, it depends on who you’re keeping secure.” Nastaha’s smile is cheshire. 

“Damn. Okay, then. What do you need me to do?” 

“Stay put. I’d say try to get some sleep but I know you won’t. Pack a duffel bag for each of you. No more than that, I mean it. Think in terms of what you absolutely can’t leave behind, this is not packing for vacation. You can buy basic stupid shit when you get where you’re going. Two outfits and whatever else you can’t leave that fits in two duffels. Got it?” 

“Okay, got it.” 

“Oh, and your phone. You won’t be needing that anymore.” 

Bucky holds the phone out but doesn’t let go. “I have all of Becs’ baby pictures on there.” 

Natasha gives him an understanding smile. “I’ll move them all to an online cloud storage site. You won’t lose a single one.” 

Bucky releases the phone. “Thanks, Nat.” 

Natasha hugs him tightly again. “Four hours. Be ready.” 

And with that Bucky is left alone in his living room in shock. He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Natasha has always been a badass. He used to joke she was really a Russian spy and their friendship was just a cover for her real identity. Bucky now wonders now how close to the truth he might have been. 

Four hours later, down to the minute, Natasha is striding through his door once again, a large envelope tucked under her arm. There’s no warm welcome or pleasantries, Natasha has her game face on and Bucky is still too rattled to try for levity. Spreading the papers out on the coffee table Natasha organizes everything quickly. “Birth certificates, immigration paperwork, social security cards, school records, medical records, a resume with work history and references, and a quick life history fact sheet for both of you.” She places a wallet from her pocket onto the table as well, flipping it open quickly to show him it’s fully filled with cards, cash, and an ID card.

Bucky scans over the documents, unable to believe she had pulled this off so quickly and how real everything looked. “Sebastian Stan?” he asks, nose wrinkling. 

Natasha nods, “Yep, you’re Romanian. You moved here with your daughter Elena when she was two months old. Your wife died in childbirth and so you brought her here to start over.” 

He spies the address on the drivers license. “Rochester? Is that where we’re actually going?” 

“No, of course not. You and your daughter have recently moved to Cape Elizabeth, Maine. That’s where you’re headed. You’ll be happy to know their local urgent care center is looking for a new triage nurse. The pay is pretty good and it’ll be enough to cover rent for the cute little apartment that you just put a down payment on.” Natasha pulls something from her pocket, it’s flesh colored and rolled up tightly. She hands it over with a simple, “Here, you’ll need this too. Don’t want that guy drawing too much attention to you.” 

Bucky stares at the silicone sleeve, realizing it’s a perfect fit for his prosthetic. The details are down to an art, from light arm hairs and tiny freckles. It’s soft enough too that as long as you don’t grasp it very hard, it’ll feel shockingly similar to his right arm. “Damn. You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Of course not. Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Natasha glares at him affectionately.

Bucky chuckles, of course she’s the best at this. She’s been the best at everything since the day they met. “What happens to Bucky and Becca Barnes then?” he’s afraid to ask but he needs to know.

“They got on a flight to Moscow two hours ago. There’s a few nice security officers and cab drivers who will all verify they were sighted leaving the airport about eight hours from now.” 

“That works for the rest of the world, but what happens if Steve goes looking? He has an awful lot of friends in high places.” 

“Steve isn’t going to go looking right now. And even if he did, the alibi will hold up. Trust me.” 

A tiny piece of Bucky’s heart shatters that Steve would just let him go so easily. 

Natasha recognizes the look on his face and quickly adds, “He called you non stop after the news broke. Sent you dozens of texts too. You very nearly had the full force of SHIELD and the Avengers on your doorstep if it wasn’t for Tony Stark.” 

“What happened?” 

“Tony convinced Steve that if you weren’t calling or responding that he was as good as dumped. The rumor mill always hinted their relationship was strained but Tony really is good at kicking Steve when he’s down and Tony played his cards right on this one. Steve has been holed up in his apartment all night, he’s not doing too great.” 

It kills Bucky to know he’s putting Steve through this pain, but he’s firm in his decision. He’d be more disappointed in himself but he’s too tired. Things got tough and he’s doing exactly what he’s been doing since he was a kid to protect himself: he’s running. “How do you even know all this?” Bucky asks, realizing Natasha shouldn’t have this level of detail on the goings on at the tower. 

“I hacked into the security feed at Avengers Tower. Jarivs was a handful but not more than I could handle. Tony Stark is brilliant but he’s also arrogant, and that’s his downfall.” 

“You are, without a doubt, the scariest person I’ve ever met. I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky can’t hold back the tears at the thought of leaving Natasha behind. 

“What do you mean, miss me? You went to college with Natalie Rushman, you’re even Instagram friends. You haven’t seen me in a few years but we still keep in touch regularly.” Natasha brings out yet another little black phone he’s never seen and shows him Natalie’s Instagram account. 

“How many of those little phones do you have tucked up your sleeve?” he teases.

“The world will never know.” she quips in return. “I do need to go though.” she adds in a more serious tone.

Bucky nods, he knew this was coming. He can’t get words past the lump in his throat.

“You have a train to catch in about forty minutes. That one will take you as far as Boston and there’s more tickets from there. Try and get some rest, you’ll be getting into town in Maine around eight in the morning.” 

“I’ve gone longer without sleep pulling doubles at the hospital, this won’t be nearly as bad.” 

Natasha gives him a half hearted smile, “You’re all set then.” 

Bucky pulls her in for one last hug. “I’ll message Natalie when we arrive.” 

“Mmm, yes. Sebastian would definitely snap a pic of his new hometown when he arrives. I’ve heard it’s very Insta-worthy.” Tears shine in Natasha’s eyes but they don’t fall. She swallows thickly. “Be safe.” 

“You too.” Bucky manages to croak out through the overwhelming tide of emotions. He holds her for one last heartbeat before she slips out the door like a ghost. 

Bucky goes through all the documents Natasha left behind and finds a thin red iPhone in the stack. There’s a post-it note stuck on top warning “do not activate until after you are on the second train”. So much for keeping himself occupied while he waits. In the end he spends most of the time pacing around the apartment and double checking his bags. He checks the time again, making sure he’s down to the final few minutes when he finally goes to get a sleeping Becca from her bed. She barely stirs as he carefully slides her into her warm purple jacket and slips socks and shoes on her feet. He slings her over his shoulder and collects the two duffels with his free hand. It’s a little jarring to see tan skin where he’s used to seeing shiny steel but he appreciates that Natasha thought of everything. 

He worries momentarily about the security detail outside his apartment but quickly realizes they’re distracted helping an elderly woman catch her escaped pomeranian who’s barking up a storm. It’s a good diversion, one clearly planned out. Bucky holds on tightly to Becca and all but runs down the hall to the stairwell. He doesn’t slow down until he’s two blocks away and he realizes he really did escape without being sighted. Slowing his pace to a normal New York hustle, he heads towards the train station and to their new lives.

[dragonnan]

In-Progress Fics (Multifandom)

These are the stories I’m actively working on.  If there are WIPs not on this list it means they’re on long term hiatus.  I’ve included links (where applicable) and small teasers for each story.  This is a bot long so I’ve included a cut.  Fandoms include: Sherlock, Doctor Strange, Avengers, and Psych

Psych:

Painted Wings and Giant Rings (rape/noncon warning) Current chapter in development: epilogue Words in chapter so far: 309 Teaser: The dragonflies were reluctant to lift off from the sidewalk – even with three pairs of feet headed their way.  A lazy last second hover relocated one of the bright green insects to the bumper of a blue car – though not out of danger. Pudgy fingers reached to grasp it – only to be denied their prize as the child they came with was lifted high out of reach.  “Sorry, Phin, mom said no bugs today.” Squirming, face furious, the baby struggled to get back to the ground – a tiny hard shoe kicking wild and impacting a sensitive belly. “Hey -ow!  C'mon Son, don't be the Snuffleupagus that only Big Bird can see.”  Still wriggling, the toddler grabbed two fistfuls of his father's short beard instead – cackling at the wincing face his actions triggered.  “Snuff-up-gus!” he chortled. Behind them both, Juliet giggled – unable to hold her stern expression towards the wayward child. “Shawn, did you just say c'mon son... to your son?” Twisting out of the clutching fingers – surely leaving behind several pieces of beard – Shawn flipped the youngster upside-down – holding him tight by the waist.  “I am the father of irony, babe.” Further back, protecting his dollar cup of mini donuts, Gus snorted.  “Father of bullsh... uh... baloney, you mean.” “Boney!”  Phin chortled – waving his arms. Gently spinning the tiny terror right-side up, again, Shawn rubbed his beard against a petal soft cheek – nearly losing his hearing at the piercing shriek that followed. “Jesus, Spencer, do I need to write you up for disturbing the peace?” Shawn spun on his heels and pressed a broad hand against Phin's left ear; mashing the right one against his chest as he glared at the approaching detective and his family. “Dude, no bad language in front of the kinder!”

OOMPA LOOMPA DO BA DE DIE - Virtual Season 9, Episode 5 (unpublished) Current chapter in development: 2 (of 4) Words in chapter so far: 7,496 Teaser:  “Alright, everyone!  Are you ready for the first stop?” Shawn gave the room a swift back and forth scan.  “I… thought this was the first stop?” Veronica grinned.  “Haha!  Not exactly, Mr…?” “Spencer, Shawn.  And this is my partner, Fannie May ‘Spanx’ Nicoletti.  I call him ‘Gummi Bear’ for short.” “Bouncin’ here and there and everywhere.”  Gus shared a fist bump with Shawn - toning down his typical come hither leer to a neutral grin.  He was, after all, a taken man. “Uh huh,” addressing the group as a whole, Veronica stepped towards a set of plain gray double doors.  “So then, if you would please follow me, it’s time to see some magic!” A press of the thumb against the green button next to the doors, and they began to swing apart.  Shawn and Gus pushed and wriggled their way to the front - Gus keeping just ahead of his friend with a wicked hip check that sent his buddy plowing into a set of cooling racks.  Metal clattering and a round of grousing followed as Shawn disentangled from the rolling racks - almost wobbling into a blue cabinet on the far wall before he got his bearings again.  “Dude, cheap shot!” Glares all around from the better mannered members of the tour - the small girl leveling a kick to Shawn’s ankle as he shuffled past her and her grandpop.  “Ow!  Hey!” Her tiny nose wrinkled at him - her elderly backup pushing up a sleeve in mild threat. “I’d avoid any geese that lay the golden eggs if I were you.”  He muttered before moving on to rejoin Gus near the front of the group.  But all dreams of technicolor vengeance vanished at the vista that opened before him. Color - like a thousand pixies had just waged battle with a thousand unicorns; their glorious war leaving their brilliant hues across every surface.  Bright blue walls, orange ceiling, green floor, blazing yellow packing crates… even the uniforms of the factory works were splashes of rich lavender vibrance. Veronica was nearby; expounding on the factory and the management of blah blah.  Shawn, however, was locked in on the source of all that was right with the world.  A glorious, gushing masterpiece of culinary and engineering mastery. “Gus!”  His hand latched to the right, gripping with fervor at the same moment that Gus snatched his arm right back.  A hard swallow, and they both spoke with the awed wonder of two supplicants meeting their Master. “The Cocoa Cascade!”

Sherlock:

The Tiger and the Shark (rape/noncon warning) Current chapter in development: 21 Words in chapter so far: 2,349 Teaser:  While Sherlock was settling, once more, John pressed the button on the control pad, next to Sherlock's bed, to alert the nursing staff.  With Sherlock awake they'd want to do a vitals check now rather than have to wake him later. “Any pain?”   Sherlock opened his mouth and John lifted his chin.  “Don't lie.” Grimacing, the detective pushed out his lower lip.  “Some.  Shoulder, mostly.” “How about the arm?” Sherlock rotated his right hand and jerked with a hard flinch.  “Tender.” “Yeah, I'll bet. Maybe try not to move it next time, ta.”  Another touch to Sherlock's brow; concern when Sherlock didn't so much as roll his eyes this time.  The numbers on the monitor hadn't changed in the last ten minutes and John rubbed his fingers across his lips. “Is it bad?” His eyes may be glazed over but Sherlock's perception was still sharp. John dropped his hand back to his lap where he rolled a loose thread from his jumper. “Well, it's not good.  Fever hasn't gone down, yet.  We can change out your ice packs, however, and your nurse should be...” The smart knock finished his sentence as a young man eased open the door and popped his head in. “Oh, hey, look who's awake, then.”  He smiled through his thick Welsh.  “Now then, Mr. Holmes, I understand you'll be needing a top off.” Clearly less than thrilled by the affable man, Sherlock pulled his right arm towards himself, in spite of the wince it caused.  “Go away.”  

Unpublished Molly-centric story fill set between TRF and TFP - eventual Sherlolly (domestic violence warning) Teaser:  “I just wanted to let you know that... well, Dennis is scheduled to be released this afternoon.  I didn't find out myself until twenty minutes ago.  I know he was meant to be in longer but... well we both know the justice system is a joke.  Listen... call me, alright?  Let me know... well, I'm here if you need me, yeah.  Christ.  Just, look after yourself, Molly.  I'll talk to you soon.” Molly hung over her sink long after Greg's message had ended.

MCU:

Avengers: New Beginnings (not Avengers Endgame compliant) Current chapter in development: 3 Words in chapter so far: 1,415 Teaser: His head was throbbing.  Anxiety wasn't new to him.  Since The Bite he'd felt various degrees of nervous energy plucking at the back of his skull.  Those first weeks, while trying to make sense of sticking to everything and breaking way too many glasses in a suddenly astounding grip, he'd also been trying to get a grip on the flood of adrenalin surging through his blood on a regular basis.  But this... since coming back from the Dusting, he couldn't stop the feeling like... like his senses were going crazy. Like, at first he'd just thought it was because he'd come back in time to see Mr. Stark collapse; arm charred and body starting to seize.  He'd thought Thanos had been terrifying but to stand there and helplessly watch Tony just... dying... But then Doctor Strange had opened one of his spin-y portals and Mr. Stark had been carried through and Peter had raced after them and then he was in a hospital and everything had gotten blurry in his memory but he remembered sitting next to Happy and eating Kettle chips until he'd suddenly had to throw up and then he couldn't stop throwing up and for some reason Happy had been holding his head and then Peter had been crying... But Mr. Stark had survived.  They'd had to cut off his arm but he'd survived.  And Peter had... well he'd smiled at him, when he'd started to wake up and was all groggy and Tony had made a joke and Peter had smiled.  But then... but then he'd... cried.  Just cried and rubbed his eyes and it wouldn't stop and Mr. Stark and grabbed his sleeve with one hand and pulled him across his chest... It had been nice.  Weird and sad and happy but... nice.

“What Did You Do?” Stephen Strange 2019 Bingo Prompt (unpublished) Teaser: “I groveled.  I groveled my ass off. And then I made sure that I followed through on every single promise that I made to her.”  Was the answer to the question that Stephen had never, actually, asked.  Was there something on his face that screamed “single guy in desperate need of dating advice”? “What?” Tony smirked.  “You have been ogling the pretty lady doctor for five minutes.  Either you are more of a creeper than I'd pegged you for or there's a history with you two that resulted in the lost puppy face you've been sporting.” Stephen crossed his arms.  “I'm not ogling Doctor Palmer.  I'm making sure she doesn't just pass me off to; shit...” Tony lifted an eyebrow as a slender young man, pushing at least seventeen, toyed with his Harry Potter rims before angling their way through the soup of damaged, disgruntled, and one seriously put out Doctor.

“Whump” Stephen Strange 2019 Bingo Prompt (unpublished) Teaser: The corded straps tightened over his wrists with every turn of the of the bar; corkscrewing the restraints until the joints in his wrists popped under the pressure.  Stephen grunted through his teeth and rocked his head back against the wooden headrest.  Muscles twitched in his cheek from the grinding movement of his molars.  Zings of pain lanced through his fingers in a steady heartbeat; sharp and electric.  The turning bar was locked into place; his hands purpling under the crushing pressure.  Too much longer and he'd start to experience tissue death.  He couldn't even appreciate the spreading numb as circulation was pinched off – the pain of crushed tissues firing a throbbing ache all the way to his elbows. “There, now.  Lovely, yes?  You have such beautiful hands, Doctor.  A shame about the scars.”  A touch traced across the back of his fingers; feather light across darkened scar tissue and Stephen locked his arms around the impulse to flinch. A backlog of remarks sat, wasted, on the back of his tongue – locked behind his teeth with a wad of blue silk.  The fabric carried the traces of expensive cologne and sweat; a nauseating blend of sour and bitter that caught in his sinuses.  His eyes, alone, remained free to observe; though what there was to see was limited in the darkened space.  A bedroom; that much was clear; a large bed layered in heavy quilts, several lamps; all dark save for the one with the shade tilted towards his face.  The floor, however, was bare wood; though it wasn't too dark to note the rust dark stains overlapping and soaked into the grain. A simple grocery run.  No other worldly battles, no inter-dimensional carnivorous slugs, no maniacal purple aliens, not so much as a flerken in a tree.  In fact, his purchases currently resided in a corner of the room – milk warm, by now, the deli meat likely a total loss.  No robes, no cloak, no Eye of Agamotto.  His sling ring was currently worn by his unwelcome companion – though it was a tight fit on his thick fingers.  The ring, along with the rest of his possessions, had been pocketed sometime after the heavy blow had stolen his consciousness.  His skull still throbbed and he could feel the tickle of blood on the back of his neck.  Unclear how long he'd been out but concussion was almost a certainty.   The larger figure circled the modified chair to which he was bound – much like a heavy-duty school desk with restraints bolted at every joint as well as his waist and throat.  He could curl his toes and roll his eyes but even his head was held face forward by a clamp surrounding his skull – preventing him from following the movement of his captor as he moved out of sight.  He could hear him, however; a gait marred by the drag of his disfigured right foot; an impediment that had certainly not hindered him in abducting the Master of the New York Sanctum.  Yes, the thought carried all of the sarcastic weight he'd been prevented from expressing. “I've watched you.  Oh, for years, now.”  The drag-step moved to his left side and this time Stephen did flinch as heavy fingers brushed across his cheekbone; mortified at the muffled grunt that pushed against the mouthful of smooth fabric.  The hand dropped away and then the man was before him, once again. “They never truly, appreciated you, did they; your peers.  All of those miracles... all of those lives saved... only to throw you away when they no longer thought they could use you.”  The touch returned to his scars and Stephen swallowed – hand jerking against his manacles.  “All because of an accident.”

Untitled Irondad and Spiderson fic (unethical medical experimentation and torture warning) (unpublished) Teaser: Tony had, by now, moved from the roof to the sidewalk and it was, pun regretfully employed, child's play to enter – alarms disabled with a flick of his AI.  His last visit, an hour earlier, had been a more restrained affair due to the warehouse being in operation.  In fact, he hadn't even entered – keeping his surveillance covert (in spite of Nat's assertions otherwise, yes, he could do subtle).  The first red flag had arisen upon noting the level of security wrapping the building like a Christmas present.  On paper, the place was a manufacturing plant for the military.  Nothing weaponizable; more along the lines of meal trays, pop up buildings, carabiners, and the like.  The second red flag was location.  Why would the military have a contract with a small manufacturing warehouse in the middle of the suburbs?     “Interior scan.” The recording had continued to play as he walked; mostly the sound of idle chatting as Peter explored the warehouse.   “... I mean it isn't like she can't grow things; she raised me, right?  Maybe we just need better fertaliz... what was that?” “I am not detecting anything.” “No – no there was... it wasn't a sound it...” A piercing throb blasted through the speakers; though not as ear-splitting as his first time hearing it.   “...en?  Karen!  Shit!  What was...  Oh crap, oh crap!  Karen!  Karen – Mr. Stark!  I, ow!  Mr. Stark I don't... I don't know if you're still getting this but... but...  No!” A flurry of sounds – clangs and what sounded like an electrical hum followed by Peter giving a sharp cry and, most disturbing, a damp CRACK and a scream.  There were several seconds of silence.  Then...           “It's coded to the suit!  Mr. Stark, it's code-” And that was it.

“Sed Diabolus” (unpublished - massive multi-chaptered story conceived with the brilliant assistance of @kitcat992) There is very little actual story text at this point - the current development stage is outlining this beast.  However, I can share a smidgen of what this fic will entail.  This is yet another “fix-it” for endgame.  Without giving too much away it involves a a villain from Stephen Strange’s past along with a terrifying and malevolent being from the comics.  There will be crossing between universe’s, threats of world domination, death and destruction, fire, explosions...

I have just a small little teaser below but I promise more once the story goes into full production!

Stephen gaped as the floor peeled away from the massive form; pointed ears and red skin; cliché devil it may be the utter horror it projected swallowed any quip he may have conjured.  Searing heat baked from its flesh and reddened through his own ghostly form in a way that should have been impossible!  

“Sorcerer...”  The voice rattled from its throat like a plague of locusts and it grinned with bladed teeth.  Without further comment it thrust a clawed hand through Stephen's form... and he screamed as he was engulfed in fire.

[dulceringo]

I NEED more of your mafia au in my life. So please continue, I'll make it worthwhile. *slides you Shiny Ninetails Pokémon card and a pack of Trident two layer gum*

Okay everyone, I would just like to say that yes, there will be a Part 4 because I still have some scenes in mind. But the fact that you take time to send me asks about the MafiaAU: Lance Salazar really made my day as well as when some of you commented on the post itself. And thanks to those who liked it and special thanks to those who shared it!

Also @charming-langst​….how did you guessed that I like nine tails? *narrowing my eyes at you* are you spying on me? Joke! But really, it was such a coincidence that you guessed my favorite!

Atthe age of eight, Lance’s studies about their world started. His childhoodbecame limited ever since he showed his intelligence level once during thefamily’s recreational activities. Honestly, Lance thought that they were justplaying a simple board game. His father explained to him the rules and forlittle Lance back then, it was fairly easy. He beat his father five times in arow. It was after a few years passed when Lance discovered that his father wasa genius chess player (Vongola Decimo always called his father for a game ortwo) and strategist.

Atthe age of twelve, Lance sneaked into the meeting room of his father due to adare from one of his siblings. He didn’t manage to get inside the room thoughfor a certain man caught his attention. Maybe the man was near his fifties buthis features still showed that he was one of those types that could easily getthe attention of others. Later on, he discovered that the name of the man was“Reborn” and that he was the most trusted adviser of Vongola Decimo. The guywas also known as the number one hitman in the Mafia world. Maybe this Rebornperson saw something in him for the next day Decimo himself visited Lancepersonally. They chatted for a bit and play some board game called “Games ofthe Generals”. Lance managed to win 2 out of 3.

Lancewas a natural charmer. He could melt anyone’s heart (hearts that were notfrozen cold) and he knew this himself. Sometimes he used it to his advantagewhenever he was kidnapped. But if things got worst then there was a reason whyhe was trained how to use the gun.

Hewas no stranger to blood. Once or twice he passed through their interrogationrooms and the sight of bloodied and dismembered bodies became a norm for him.Lance made his first interrogation at 15 when he and his youngest sister gotkidnapped. A few exchanged of gun shots here and there, and Lance managed toturn the tables around. The hunter became the hunted, a phrase said from anumber of his favourite movies.

Lancewas labelled as “Young Demon” that day.

Justbecause he was used to the sight and smell of murder didn’t mean that he wantedto live his whole life like this. Lance has dreams of his own. He has dreamsthat he wanted to reach with his own hands.

Handsof Lance and not the hands of Salazar’s.

Lanceknew that the Vongola Decimo favoured him from the rest of the children oftheir allies. Though he never knew the reason why, Lance used this to hisadvantage. He listed all the reasons why he wanted to get out, why he wanted tobe freed. Of course all of his reasonings were weak, Lance knew this and theVongola knew this. But still, Decimo talked to that Reborn person and after afew hours of waiting, they escorted Lance back to the Salazar’s mansion andtalked about the future with the Salazar Don.

Atthe age of 16, Lance was no longer a member of the dark world. He was just anordinary civilian.

Yeah,right.

Everyoneknows you could never escape the underworld, especially if you were born insideit.

Thedeal made was consisted of: one, Lance would stay in the vacation house givento him by Decimo himself and located in Cuba. Two, some Salazar’s men wouldcheck up on him personally every other week. Three, he was not allowed toinvite any civilian (even though Lance was technically considered as civilianalso) in his house. Four, he was obligated to meet or talk to the family inimportant events which was birthdays and Christmas.

Soall in all it was like he had just taken a temporary vacation away from theMafia.

Andit was a good thing he only cut the Mafia ties but not his ties as a bloodrelative.

BecauseLance loved his family with all his heart, never question him about this.

Pidgewas beyond irritated right now. Who would have thought that Lance was aSalazar? That Salazar. It was likesuddenly all the pieces clicked together into their own proper places. Shethought Lance was born in a family of soldiers or just used to play strategicgames during his teenage years.

Shenever freaking expected that Lance was born inside the Mafia.

Itwas lunch time and everyone was eating together. When Pidge said everyone shedid meant everyone. Lance just gavehis servants one look and they all settled themselves with the rest of teamVoltron on the dining area after they put down all the foods and drinks.

Thetable was a bit similar to the one they used in the castle. It was long and ellipticalin shape, she was used seeing Allura to be on what the Paladins had dubbed asthe head part of the table so seeing Lance in that position was very unusualfor Pidge. Lance kept cooing like a baby when he saw the foods and drinks onthe table, at least some things hadn’t changed. Pidge didn’t really know if sheknew Lance that deep despite being stuck together in space for five years.

“Wow!Esmeralda, your cooking is the best! No offence, Hunk.” Lance added the lastsentence as an afterthought when he took a bite of what he called ropa vieja.

“Nonetaken, Lance. This taste really good.”

Esmeralda,Pidge assumed it was the woman sitting across from her, smiled when she heard thepraises of the rest of the Paladins and the obvious delight of the two Alteanswhen they started to eat also.

“Thankyou. We really missed your presence here, Young Master.”

“Ah…I’llsay stop calling me ‘Young Master’ but…”

“Butwe will just keep doing it because someone needs to remind you what is yourreal position.” It was the head butler named Alejandro who spoke beforecleaning his lips using the napkin and Pidge was reminded of those movies wherepeople try to learn proper table manners in just one night. Good thing Lancedidn’t care about proper etiquette inside his own house.

“Giveme a break, Alejandro. I’m already 24 years old! I’m not that young boyanymore!”

“Andyet you are still that young boy who almost gave Master Halberd a heart attackwhen he saw you waving a gun.” One of the maids named Juliana commented as shepoured Allura’s cup with apple juice.

“Thatwas one time! And it was Falcata’s fault for leaving her gun on her studytable.” Pidge could not believe it, Lance was pouting because his servants wereganging up on him. She could not consider this as sharing embarrassing storiesbecause imagining little Lance waving a gun with the safety either on or offwas not a really good picture in her mind right now.

“Cometo think of it, isn’t it because of that that Master Khanda started teachingYoung Master Lance how to hold a gun?” Marcelo looked up at the ceiling as ifit could verify his words.

“Emphasizethe word hold. Mistress Flyssa threwa fit when she saw her older brother teaching Young Master Lance how to shoot.”Benita snickered when she refreshed the memory of her twin brother.

“Andbecause of that, Master Halberd was forced to step in and declared that YoungMaster Lance will only be allowed to shoot a gun when he reached the age ofthirteen.”

“Hey,you are just two years older than me, Learco! Why are you calling me ‘YoungMaster’ too?! And why are you guys sharing my childhood stories to my friends?!”Lance started hitting the table with his right hand like a petulant child as hefocused his gaze on the left side of the table where his butlers and maids wereseated.

“Becauseit’s fun~” Sylvia sang as she waved her fork around.

“Andtwo years is still two years. Which means that you are technically my ‘Young Master’.” Learco grinned but ducked under thetable on the last second when Lance threw his glass towards him.

“Ican’t believe this,” Lance held his chest in a show of mock hurt, “betrayed bymy second family. After five years and this is the welcome that I get? I shouldhave fired all of you before I got blasted in space by a sentient lion.”

“Wereally missed you, Young Master Lance.” Pidge heard the oldest human male inthe room and she saw that the man was giving Lance a fatherly smile which theirBlue Paladin returned with an equally soft smile.

“See?Only Grandpa Eterio lives up to his name!”

“Eh,that is because Grandpa Eterio likes to baby you, Young Master.”

“That’sit.”

Learcoyelped when Lance took hold of the knife beside his plate and jumped towardshim. The rest of the maids and butlers just continued eating and coaxed theVoltron team to do the same while Learco was running for his dear life becauseLance has long legs and the stamina to run a five kilometer marathon.

Ifthis was the people that Lance considered as his second family then Pidgethought that she must ready herself in meeting the main family.

Nowonder Lance asked them to bring their bayards.

Langst Mini Fic: The Second Family

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Mafia AU: Lance Salazar (OCs mini guide)