#apart of me is like yes daddy steve please chain my up and the other part is like noa this man is such a fuckboy shoot him ten times!!!!

[loveshotzz]

Here’s a little preview of everyone’s favorite Tamagotchi Daddy 😚 and an appearance at the end by your fave bartender.

Whatta Man Masterlist | Rick’s Party Playlist

as a reminder my blog is 18 +

Sheer curtains sway with a pink glow from the flashing sign outside your apartment, the nip in the October air makes goosebump dance across your exposed skin from the crack in your bedroom window. The summer heat came and went like it always does but not the cute bouncer you took home the first warm night of the year.

Weckx-N-Effect’s ‘Rump Shaker’ spills through the boombox in your living room where Steve stands in front of your long mirror, dressed as John Dalton from Road House, you hear the pitch in his voice deepen,

“Take the biggest guy in the world, shatter his knee and he’ll drop like a stone.”

Rolling your eyes at the line you’ve heard both him and Patrick Swayze deliver all week long, you adjust the white and blue trimmed high waisted basketball shorts that hug your curves before tugging down the cropped Tune Squad mesh tank that matches. Straightening your bunny ears, you turn around to inspect your tail, bubble gum pink glossed lips turning up into a pleased smirk with the height the white platform sneakers on your feet give you. Humming in approval because you know Baby Spice would be proud, your shoulders wiggle in excitement as you apply another layer of gloss before smacking your lips loudly.

“Hey Doc, you got the goods earlier right?” The bouncer calls out.

His boots sound heavy on your shag rug making his way towards the bathroom and even though you saw his outfit earlier, when Steve’s handsome face appears next to yours in the mirror with a wide grin, you still flutter around nothing. Dark emerald eyes turn black as they drink in your costume, and you're almost positive yours look the same admiring the thick patch of hair on full display in his white loose fitting button up. Long sleeves rolled up to his elbows with the top three undone just like Dalton’s.

The extra button reveals more than usual, including the silver chain that dangles from his neck. It shines under the dark curls that cover his chest when it hits the bright lights above you, matching the belt buckle attached to the black leather that holds his tight fitting jeans to his waist. The ivory of his shirt makes his permanently sunkissed skin glow, thighs pressing together when he licks his full lips, moles moving with his cheeks when he grins.

“Jesus, you look - fuck, why’s the tail doing it for me?” Finally breaking character, he runs a hand through his hair, the ring wrapped around his middle finger catching your eye in his reflection.

“Stop calling me that or everyone is going to think I’m Bugs Bunny.” You huff and his lips twitch at your pout, “and if by goods you mean, the Roadhouse soundtrack, yes I picked it up from your friend Robin.”

Turning around, you lean against the sink, the reminder of your promise to recreate the sex scene with him tonight has you giving him an extra exaggerated roll of your eyes, a smile lighting up your face despite yourself. Steve’s big black boots cross the threshold, thick rubber soles squeaking against the rose colored tile, he closes the small distance to stand in front of you.

The warm smell of his Calvin Klein CK One cologne lingers fresh on the cotton of his shirt, along with the faint hint of your hairspray when he stole a spritz when he first got to your apartment. The cinnamon from his Big Red is hot on his breath, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin as he pushes the gum to the other side of his mouth with a tongue that was between your thighs just a few hours ago.

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll stop. I can’t help it when I’m in character you know?” One of his big hands comes up to your face, long fingers spreading across your jaw tilting your mouth towards his. The bouncer takes in your done up features in the light, and the pucker of your glittery lips, looking at him like you needed to be kissed. “No one is going to think a pretty thing like you is anything other than hot.”

“Good.” You try to say it with more conviction, but the way he keeps looking at you like he wants to eat you alive makes it come out quiet.

“Oh yeah?” He questions with a quirked brow, his boots moving the one step left to stand in the space you made for him between your legs. The tip of his nose runs along the bridge of yours, his other hand finding a new home on the plush curve of your hip to pull you even closer. The denim doing nothing to hide just how much your outfit was affecting him.

“I’m gonna have to follow you around all night aren’t I? Gonna make me abuse my power and kick anyone out who even looks at my girl like they got a chance huh?” Steve mutters his threat against your lips, the tips of his fingers digging into the dip in your cheeks bringing your mouth to his.

The strawberry of your gloss is sweeter than it was thirty minutes ago and it makes him groan when his kiss turns possessive, tongues meeting in the middle when he licks into your mouth. Your hands find their way to his chest, your palms finding the warm skin of his chest, the blunt ends of your nails dragging through the dark thatch of hair. He nips at your bottom lip when he lets you go. Pink glitter staining his when he pulls away sticky, eyes blown wide feeling the way your leg starts to lift over his hip, daring him to come back for more.

He tuts at you with whatever self control he has left, letting his hungry gaze drop down to drink up every dip and soft curve on display for him. Your back arches under the heat of it and Steve catches the puffy tail resting perfectly on the curve of your ass in the reflection. His responsibility to get downstairs in five minutes doesn’t seem so important anymore.

“I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you.” He sounds almost angry, and pride swells in your chest.

His hand slides from your waist, fingertips tips dragging down the soft dough of your thigh making the hem of your shorts bunch up when he hooks them under your knee. He accepts your dare with a roll of his hips, his grin turning salacious when you gasp.

“That’s kinda the point, duh” the giggle that leaves your mouth is breathy as he ducks his head down to the crook of your neck to suck a fresh bruise where the previous one he left last week is almost healed, “oh my godddd.”

His lips curve against you, the hint of stubble along his jaw tickles as he makes his way with greedy lips to all the sensitive spots he’s discovered over the last few months, including the new one he found the other night right below your ear. He nips at the soft skin when your fingers tangle themselves into his hair with a harsh tug at his roots, the back of your calf pressing against his ass encouraging him more.

“Earlier wasn’t enough, my girl needs more attention doesn’t she?” His taunting comes out next to the shell of your ear, the deep baritone making you shiver. “It’s only been a few hours and you want me that bad again, huh?”

Your eyes hit the back of your head when he rolls your earlobe between his teeth. Another tug to his hair, a whine pushing past your pink lips trying to get more of anything he’ll give you.

“Come on baby, don’t be shy.” He hums pulling away from your neck, finally letting go of your face to squeeze at the fat of your ass propped on the sink, long fingers playing with your tail. “Tell me, I wanna hear it.”

The song on the radio changes, and Mase’s ‘What You Want’ encourages the next grind of your hips.

“Gonna make me beg for it Steve?” You pout looking up at him from under your lashes, relishing in the way you feel him twitch in his jeans at the thought. One of your hands trails down the muscles of his stomach, biting your lip when they twitch under your fingertips, adding more to the growing problem in your underwear.

The incessant high pitch beeping of both your tamagotchi’s cuts through the tension like a knife, making both of you freeze and you catch the way his eyes widen, the color coming back at the realization of their need to be fed.

“Steve, I swear to god-“ Your disbelief is quickly cut off by the bellowing voice of a certain bartender from outside your window.

“Hey! Asshole! I know you’re up there. Get your dick in your pants and get down here and help! It’s fucking Halloween!”

Eddie sounds like he’s already at his wits end, and you swear you hear him say ‘before I fuckin’ kill Rick’ as the bar door creaks open before slamming shut behind him.

[thatsouthernstate]

I decided that I would stay in tonight. Alone. And drink.

Is that bad?

I just really, really need a break from people. In general. Not for any specific reason. Just because it’s been such a long past few weeks. I need alone time.

So I’m here with tequila. And rewatching Fresh right now because… Of course.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Soft Names, Soft Touches

Chapter Eleven

 Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 4.2K+

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

Franki sank onto the seat of the swing in Central Park and sobbed softly against the chain. Everything she knew was a lie. Everything she felt was only a fabrication by Hydra. Her serum, her body, all of it had been one big genetic experiment to create matches for the Winter Soldier program.

She was a broodmare.

The only reason they had trained her this well was so if her partner ever got too aggressive, she could defend herself long enough for help to arrive. She wasn’t a field operative and the missions they had wanted to send her on, the ones she’d always refused, had been breeding missions. She was supposed to entice her soldier into fucking her until she was pregnant, and then she would be put in stasis, a chemically induced coma so she couldn’t abort the child until the offspring was born and they could begin the cycle anew.

It made her sick.

They’d played with her pheromones, done something to her to make her sexually attractive to the winter soldiers. That was why they put her in the room that day. Not to kill her, but so he could beat her down long enough to fuck her. Only she’d fought to the bitter end, and they’d been afraid he would actually kill her so they’d pulled her out.

Then she’d healed and made herself very interesting. What if they could unlock her genetic code? Create a bevy of females that healed like she did? Imagine the soldiers they could create. They could put their altered females back in with the men in days rather than weeks.

“Oh god… we were nothing more than animals…” she whimpered, leaning her head against the chain.

But it hadn’t worked the way they wanted it to. The men were all too feral, too dangerous, and eventually killed their partner. Whether on purpose or by accident the reports didn’t say. She’d been the last, and they had screwed with her the most. They’d played with her chemical makeup. Changed it, messed it up, and had turned her into a walking weapon. A weapon aimed… at Bucky.

She didn’t know how they’d done it, but, somehow, they’d made her into the perfect woman for the first Winter Soldier. Her scent was altered to be something he couldn’t resist, and when his skin came in contact with hers, it released a chemical reaction that bound them together. The closer they got, the tighter the bond. If she had slept with him before his leaving… it could have been so much worse.

It had been Hydra’s plan all along to dump her on Bucky’s doorstep. From there it was only a matter of time before nature took its course, and then Hydra would have done everything to get her back.

And Bucky would have come for her, do anything they said to save her because he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. She was a danger to him, and the farther away she was, the better. They hadn’t completed the bond yet, and if they stayed apart, it would, she hoped, fade. But for now, it fucking hurt.

“Hey? You okay? You need help?”

The voice was familiar, as was the flash of light over her face, and Franki looked up to find Officer Jack looking back.

“Franki Romanoff?” he murmured quietly, staring in horror at the woman. She looked absolutely devastated, and he took a step towards her. “Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need me to call the tower?”

“No!” she hollered, jerking upright. “Don’t call the tower. I am fine. I will go.” She got to her feet and nearly fell.

“Miss, if you’ll pardon my say so, you ain’t alright,” Jack murmured, moving to take her arm.

Jerking it away, Franki shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. “Please… don’t… nothing good comes of people touching me.”

“Ma’am… Franki,” he said softly, watching her fold in on herself, “You got a place to stay tonight?” 

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled for him, but it was a weak one.

“Course you will. You’re coming home with me. My wife will be pleased as punch to have you.” He motioned for her to join him. “Come on, now.” He didn’t know what had happened between her and her team, or her and Sergeant Barnes, but he wasn’t about to leave a clearly upset woman alone in Central Park; didn’t matter who she was.

She looked at him standing there, all of thirty-five if he was a day, but he had that look that she’d come to think of as the dad look. Steve wore it sometimes, or Tony, when they were trying to be patient, but they expected obedience. “I do not wish to be trouble.”

Her accent grew thick and made him smile. “No trouble. Promise.” Slowly, she walked out of the park, and carefully stepped over the fence with him. She moved like she was broken, but he couldn’t tell if it was physical or emotional damage. “We have to go through the park and a bit down the other side. You going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Super… soldier….” She made to remind him but faltered when she remembered that wasn’t what she’d been made for.

“Hey, you want to talk about it? I’m a pretty fair listener,” he urged softly, heading home with what felt like a shadow in a red coat dogging him.

“No, thank you,” she murmured, head down, keeping pace.

“You change your mind…” he offered, but when she only looked away, he began to talk about anything and everything. Little antidotes of things he’d heard or seen in the park. Stories about people he’d met or arrested. Comments on things that had changed or stayed the same for years, until he came to the brick building that housed the apartment he shared with his wife and son. “It ain’t much, but its home.”

“It is quaint,” Franki murmured.

“Well, it’s no Stark Tower, that’s for sure,” Jack chuckled.

“I lived in an eight by ten cell for roughly thirteen years,” Franki mumbled, looking at the glowing windows, and wondering about the lives and the stories behind them. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the information that caused his heart to plummet, no, it seemed all those who called themselves Avengers were destined for tragic backstories, but the way she said it. It was so off-the-cuff like it was normal in her world to have been kept like an animal for what must have been a good chunk of her life. “Come on,” he encouraged, holding open the door.

She stepped past him, taking in all points of entry, before following Jack up the stairs to his third-floor apartment.  She wasn’t really sure why she’d agreed to follow him home like a lost puppy, but, maybe it was for just that very reason. A lost puppy was precisely what she felt like.

Opening the locks on his door, Jack stepped inside to a softly glowing stove light. “Looks like Tam’s already gone to bed, but I can make us some tea if you want?” He offered quietly, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it on the hook behind the door. He looked at her expectantly, but she only huddled deeper into the red wool. “Franki, you don’t mind if I call you Franki, right?” She shook her head, and he smiled. “You’re safe here. Why not take your coat off and stay awhile?”

He held out his hand, and she clutched the collars of her coat tightly before slowly shrugging it free and handing it over. It went on top of his, and when he motioned her to take a seat on the pea green sofa, she did so without fuss.

While he was busy in the kitchen, Franki had a quick look around, again noting the entrances and exits, but her eyes were drawn to all the brick-a-brack that sat on every flat surface. There were china dogs and painted ladies, and cats, and birds. There were crystal candy dishes and glass animals. On the back of the sofa was a colourful lap quilt that looked old and well loved. Pictures hung on the walls, family gatherings and outings.

A wedding photo had her looking swiftly away. That hollow feeling that had bloomed in her chest when Bucky was gone, returned with a vengeance and made it hard to breathe.

In the kitchen, Jack kept his hands busy making tea but took the time to send a quick text to his partner to get in touch with Stark Tower and let them know Franki Romanoff was safe and in his home. If she looked like this, he could only imagine what the others looked like.

When the kettle boiled, he filled the cups and returned to find her staring at one of his wife’s weird statues with a funny look on her face. “Tam calls it collecting. I call it hoarding.” He chuckled softly, setting the cup down in front of Franki and sitting across from her.

“Are they always this…”

“Go ahead, you can say it. They’re hideous.” He chuckled again and sipped at his tea.

Picking up her cup, Franki quelled the quick twitch of her lips. “Do you always invite strangers home with you in the dead of night, Jack?”

“Only strangers I know,” he quipped back, head turning when he heard the squeak of floorboards. “Why don’t you come out and say hello, Jimmy.”

Franki’s eyes darted to the partially opened door where the fuzzy blond head poked through. The boy was no more than five and was absolutely precious in his soft grey jammies with the red stars all over them. It slammed through her that these were his Bucky Barnes pajamas, and she had to quickly swipe a tear away. “Hello, Jimmy,” she murmured, her voice raspy.

Shooting her a glance, Jack wondered if she had issues with kids, but the look on her face was the same one she’d worn for Barnes. Evidently, his son had captured another feminine heart, this one an Avenger. “Jimmy, this nice lady is Franki Romanoff. She works with Sergeant Barnes.”

His sweet, cherub face lit up when he looked at her and matched the charming voice. “You know Bucky Barnes!?”

His eyes were huge, and she nodded slowly. When Jack had turned his son to face her, she felt her heart clench in her chest for the little boy’s left sleeve hung empty. But his eyes were big and bright, so full of excitement that she couldn’t help but smile. How could someone so small be so adorable already? “I do, yes.”

“My daddy brought me a picture! I like Bucky! He’s my favourite Avenger.”

His enthusiasm made her smile, even though her heart shattered. “Me too,” she whispered. Was it any wonder Bucky was his favourite?

“Are you an Avenger, too?” he asked, eyes big and round.

“I am…” or, at least, she had been. “I’m the one they call Reaper,” she murmured and pulled her hood up over her head. The display came to life, and she found multiple messages from all the team, begging her to come back. They could figure this out, work it out together, and when the little red flashing notice read tracking she murmured, “Friday… I can’t yet. Please. I need time.” The notice turned off, and she sighed, “Thank you.” Pushing back her hood, she looked tiredly at Jack. “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure!” he leapt up, his son in his arms, and found her the cordless one. “Here you go!” He took Jimmy and headed into the kitchen to give her a semblance of privacy.

Franki dialled a number she knew by heart and was unsurprised when it rang only once. “Sestra.”

“Sestranka! Where are you? Are you alright? I’m coming to get you.” Natasha was on her feet and turned for the door when the phone was wrenched from her hand.

“Franki? Tell me where you are!” Bucky demanded.

“Bucky…” a sob broke free.

It made his heart ache. “Moya zvezdochka, come home. We can work this out together.”

“Did you read it?” she whispered.

“Da.”

“Then you know why I can’t. I’m a danger to you. You can’t be with me.” A second sob broke from her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“That’s not true! Come home, Francessca!”

“Nothing you feel for me is real. It’s all lies! I won’t be your weakness, Bucky. I won’t!” She hung up the phone and collapsed over her knees, sobbing into her arms. It felt like she'd just torn out her own soul.

It took her a few moments to notice the slight weight on her shoulder that was stroking down her arm, almost as if it was petting her. When she turned to look, little Jimmy patted her arm.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he said, tears dripping from his eyes. “I’m sad cause my Pop-Pop went to heaven. Sometimes Nonna cries when she thinks I’m napping. She calls tears liquid memories.” Pushing at her arms, he crawled up on her knee. “Are you and Bucky fighting? My momma and daddy do, sometimes, but then they say sorry and kiss each other, and everything is all better.”

His big hazel eyes looked up at her with such trust, such sincerity, she started to cry all over again and hugged the little boy tightly. Something about him soothed a part of the hollowness inside her; his innocence like nothing she’d ever known. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured into his crown of golden fuzz. “I’m bad for him. He won’t be safe with me around.”

“Sergeant Barnes can handle anything! He’s the Winter Soldier!” Jimmy stated, thinking it strange that she would worry for someone so strong.

Tucking her face down in his hair, she breathed in a scent that she would never forget. How was it possible for a trust to have a smell? Or hope? Or love? Yet, this boy in her arms smelled like all of the above. “You’re a good boy, Jimmy. Thank you.” He snuggled closer, and she lightly stroked his back.

They stayed that way for a while, his breathing slow and steady, and his presence in her arms a soothing one. Jack drank his tea in companionable silence, not asking though she knew he wanted to until a knock came at the door.

Looking sharply to Jack, Franki murmured, “You expecting anyone?” This was not the time of night one got random callers at the door.

“No.” He shook his head.

Getting up slowly, careful of the little boy who’d fallen back to sleep, she handed him to his father. “Go into the room with your wife. Lock the door and don’t come out until I tell you it is safe.”  She tucked the phone down with him. The knock came a second time, and she mouthed the words "who is it?"

“Who is it?” Jack called out.

“Jack? It’s Ronny. Let me in.”

“Ronny?” That was weird. “Just give me a sec to put Jimmy down. I’ll be right there.” He looked into the suddenly cold silver eyes of Franki and shivered as he confessed, “I told him to call the tower, tell them you were here and safe. That was it.”

“How long has he been your partner?”

“Couple of years.” But… when Shield had fallen after Hydra had been outed, they’d all learned the evil organization was good at blending in. “There’s a handgun on top of the fridge in a lockbox. Key is hanging there.” He nodded his head toward the wall. “Franki…”

“No, Jack. Keep your family safe. You redial that last number. That’s Natasha. Tell her code red, and she will find me with the snow cats.” She pushed him towards the door on the other side of the kitchen and reached for the lock box. A quick tug snapped the lock, and he stared at her, amazed before she gave a sharp jerk of her head. “Go!” she hissed, turning to pull knives out of the block beside the stove. The door shut behind him, and she heard the lock snick before something heavy landed in front of the door.

Flicking her hood up, she looked towards the hallway. There were five men out there. Five Hydra agents, she just knew it, and she stepped closer to Jack’s bedroom door. “Jack, make that call. Do it now.” She could just hear him talking as she turned out the stove light and skated into shadows, making her way to the door. Removing the chain as silently as she could, Franki grabbed the lock and whispered to Friday, “I need to sound like Jack.”

“Go ahead.” The AI said.

“Come on in, Ronny. Just keep it down. Franki fell asleep on the couch.” She turned the deadbolt and leapt up to sit nimbly on top of the curio cabinet behind the door. It banged inwards, the men swarming with weapons drawn, but she waited until the last one was through before slamming it shut and leaping into the darkness.

Two went down with knives through their necks, the third took one in the thigh that she wrenched out and swiped across his throat. He fell through Jack’s coffee table, taking out a host of Tam’s collectables.

The fourth managed to fire his weapon. The bullet slammed into her side causing heat to erupted along her skin. It fractured a rib, tore through her liver, and exited out the back according to Friday and Franki knew it was bad. The amount of blood that poured down her side was a terrible thing.

She shot him point blank in the chest. The last one was Ronny, and she sank back into the shadows to buy some time, pressing her hand against the front of her wound. “Hydra send you?”

“Like you don’t already know,” he scoffed, turning a circle to find her.

“They going to try and use me against Bucky?”

“Well, look at you go, sweetheart. Got it in one,” he sneered, swinging his gun towards a shadow he thought had moved.

“I refused to be Hydra’s pawn for thirteen years. I’m sure as hell not going to be their pawn now, and I will never let them use me against Bucky!” Stepping up behind him out of the dark, she grabbed his head and gave it a quick, concise twist to the right. The snap was most gratifying.

As his body fell, she dashed to the windows that overlooked the street. More men had arrived, most in tactical gear, all packing weapons. “Jack!” she called out. “You’re going to need to move your family. I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll make sure it’s handled. Your partner was a Hydra agent.”

A female voice called back, “I knew there was something wrong with him!”

“Tam, not now.” Jack sighed. Shoving the dresser from the door, he walked into the kitchen. “Well… damn…” he whistled. There were five dead people in his living room.

“You may not want your wife to see…” but the woman in the pink nightgown was already striding into the room, Jimmy’s face tucked firmly against her chest with her hand over his eyes. The little boy didn't even whimper, and she was impressed with how tough he was.

“Honey, I’m retired Army Ranger. You go, girl!”  Tam grinned.

A smile worked its way onto Franki’s face. “You three better get out of here. You got a neighbour you can go to?”

“Right in here, sweetie! I heard all that commotion. You three come with me.”

Came a voice from the hall and Franki turned to see a woman, who had to be seventy if she was a day, open the door and wave them over. “Good, go. I’ll get them to follow me. They’re not after you. Did you speak with Nat?” she asked, stepping into the hallway and grabbing for the wall when her vision dimmed.

“Jesus, Franki! You’re bleeding!” Jack reached for her, and she stepped away. “You need help!”

“Friday?” The suit sealed over. “I’ll be fine. Get going.”

He shook his head, but she shoved him in the door of his neighbour's apartment. “I will not be responsible for you ending up dead! Stay here and stay quiet!” She’d barely gotten the door shut when the ones at either end of the hall slammed open.

Diving back through the doorway, she jumped over the dead men and went straight through the glass window onto the fire escape, making as much racket as possible. More agents were climbing up, and she shot the front-runner through the eye causing him to fall back and domino the rest. Darting up the stairs, she muttered, “Friday, I need options!” Calculating flashed a few times before a route was mapped out that led to the zoo and the snow leopard pen. “Da!”

Climbing quickly, she made for the roof.

Bucky placed Natasha’s phone down with extreme care. It was that or throw the thing as hard as he could. “She won’t come back. Says it was all lies. Nothing we feel is real.”

“Horseshit!” Helen snapped from her place before the computer.

“Doctor?” Tony asked, intrigued.

“She clearly didn’t read these through or didn’t understand what she was reading. Her skin and your skin react to each other, release pretty potent pheromones, and are creating a chemical bond.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

“She’s your chemically perfect match. It was what they were trying to create with the other pairs, but here’s the kicker. This program of Hydra's? It didn’t work. Not with any of the other subjects and they were abandoning it. She was slated to be terminated the same day you rescued her. Originally they had planned to mess with her systems and drop her on you, but when the reconditioning continued to fail, and then none of the other pairs worked, they gave up.”

Helen turned to look at them all staring at her with different levels of stunned confusion. “Don’t you get it? Hydra has no idea that Franki is Bucky’s match! They haven’t got any clue that she literally holds the keys to his sanity! Look at this!” She drew up medical scans of Bucky that Friday had been compiling. “Testosterone, elevated. Cortisol, elevated. His whole damn endocrine system is going into overdrive! If you don’t get her back here, he’s liable to go into a rage, become highly aggressive, and will continue to be so without thought or desire for anything else.”

“What are you saying, doc?” Steve finally asked, needing the clarification, but he was pretty sure he knew what she meant. She’d basically describe the last three weeks.

“I’m saying…” Helen sighed, passing a hand over her face. “It’s too late. Whatever Franki thought she was saving you both from by running… it’s too late. She’ll do more damage than good at this point. But she’s wrong when she says what you feel are lies. Tony told me you two got together around the same time I did my last batch of tests?” Bucky nodded, and she smiled. “Then what you feel is most certainly real. Did you have feelings for her before touching her?”

“Well, yeah…” Bucky murmured.

“And did you ever come in contact with her skin before then?”

“No.” Bucky knew it for certain. Francessca didn’t like to be touched, and he’d respected that until things between them had changed.

“How you feel about someone has little to do with pheromones. Sure they can make that person more attractive to you, but they can’t make you fall in love. Shit, if you were going to fall victim to some Hydra shenanigans, some chemical pairing they planned to make you compliant by taking away your woman, you would have succumbed to your hormonal urges within a week of meeting her. Hell, we are all susceptible to pheromones. You’re with her because you want to be, right?” Again the man who was the Winter Soldier nodded. “Then for god's sake go get her!” She jerked up another screen, showing the same readings for Franki. “Just like with you and all your aggression, she needs you to balance her too, but she goes the other way. For her…” Helen pulled up the video from the pool, the one Tony had sent her and showed it to Bucky. “It becomes extreme grief.”

Bucky's heart plummeted to his feet as he watched her cry her eyes out. “Steve…”

“We’ll find her, Buck,” Cap said. “Trace on that call?”

“Narrowed to a five-block area. She’s on the other side of the park,” Sam muttered.

“Her suit just came online again!” Tony called out, working fast to make certain he could pinpointing her location before she shut the tracking down again. “Got it!” He smacked his hand down on the console and had his latest Iron Man suit crawl up his arm.

Nat’s phone rang in her hand, and she quickly answered it. “Franki?”

“Natasha Romanoff? This is Officer Jack O’Shea, I met Franki and Sergeant Barnes in Central Park about four weeks ago. She’s been at my place tonight. I was told to call and tell you code red, you’ll find her with the snow cats.”

“Dammitl! How the hell did they find her before we did? Thank you, Officer. We're on our way.” She ended the call. “Everyone gear up! Hydra’s after Franki!”

“I thought you said they didn’t know!?” Bucky snarled at Dr. Cho.

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean they won’t still try and use her against you. Your relationship isn’t exactly a secret!” Helen shouted back.

“Neither of you are helping matters!” Tony stepped between them. “Barnes! She needs us! Hurry up! I’m going on ahead.” Before anyone could say otherwise, he flew out the window that opened in the ceiling.

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