#steve rogers not actually appearing in this snip

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I've Got You Under My Skin 2

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

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

Characters: Steve Rogers

Summary: your husband is a very demanding man.

Note: I can't help myself with the super soldiers.

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

The doorbell rings and you flinch. You pop your head up as Steve keeps his heavy arm across you. You wriggle and check the time on the small clock on his side of the bed. 

"Shoot!" You struggle to break free of him. "I forgot!"

"Forgot," he turns onto his side, keeping his hand on your hip. "What's going on?"

"I invited the girls over for movie night!"

"Movie night?" He echoes.

"Yes," you move his hand off of you, your chest bouncing as you hop out of bed. "We rented Nosferatu! I'm too afraid to watch it alone so..."

"You coulda waited for me," he sits up and shakes out his matted hair.

"I know but... oh, Bucky's wife can't make it. She's working on her comic," you explain as you search for your bra. The doorbell goes again.

"You didn't tell me you were having them over."

"I forgot."

"But you planned it... you could've said something when I called the other day." He scolds.

You know how he is about the house. He's so overly cautious, he would've seen them on the security app anyhow. Plus, they're his friends as much as yours.

"It's just Wanda and Nat," you say. He stares at you unflinching. "I'm sorry, Stevie--"

"Don't Stevie me with those kitten eyes," he warns as he sits up and wags his finger. "I just... like to know."

"I know," you look at your toes. "I won't do it again."

"Mm," he hums, obviously not happy. You hurry to pull on a fresh dress, not creased or stained by his suddenness. You pull you a pair of panties and he sighs, "really?"

"Steve, the girls are here."

"So what?" He tilts his head and smirks, "kinda hot thinking of you hanging out with nothing underneath. Just waiting til they're gone so you can get back on me."

You give a bashful smile, "Stevie."

The doorbell rings several times in quick succession.

"Hurry up," he rolls his eyes. "Nat can never..."

He trails off and you hurry out, trying desperately to tame your mussed appearance. You flit down the stairs, your skirt letting the air flow over your pelvis. You shiver and hurry to the door, opening it up with a smile.

"There you are. We brought wine and you leave us out in the cold," Natasha snips and shoves the bottle at you.

"Sorry, Steve got back early."

"Ew, please, we don't need details," she snickers.

"Vis got back too," Wanda says. "But Tony kept him late. I swear sometimes I think I'm the other woman."

You shake your head and accept the wine.

"As usual, Bucky's not here and ruining it all," Nat sneers. "She'd come if he wasn't such a hard ass."

"I thought she was working," you frown.

"Oh, sweet child," she purrs. "Sometimes I think that's why he chose you, you are too trusting."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Wanda pinches your chin. "You're just precious."

You back up to let them in. You don't argue. You don't like conflict. Not at all. You don't know how Steve does it.

Yet, you're irked. Everyone treats you like a child. You know you're a bit younger than all of them, a bit less experienced, but you're not stupid.

"So, pizza?" Nat asks.

Usually, you'd say no. The grease makes your chest burn and Steve doesn't like all that processed cheese. Unfortunately you didn't have enough time to make the food you were planning on.

"You two go ahead and order. I'll get some snacks ready," you wave them into the living room.

Before Steve got back, you had a plan. You were supposed to add some ambiance; dark scarfs over the lamps, pillows on the floor.... Oh, but you did do one thing.

You take out the medieval looking goblets filled with goodies; black nail polish, edible vampire teeth, red gummies of every flavour. You set them aside and start on the snacks.

Hummus and spinach dip, whole wheat crackers, veggies, and some fruits. You bring it out as Nat and Wanda set up a nest on the floor. Natasha grimaces at the tray.

"Really?"

"Well, you know..."

"We know. Mighty Captain America doesn't allow real American food in his house." Natasha sniffs.

"I got a surprise, wait," you put it down and wave off her chagrin. "One sec."

You go back out to the kitchen and grab the goblets. You bring them out with a proud smile. Wanda oohs and ahs as she nears.

"Adorable," she praises. "Oh, Natty, there's candy."

"Is it vegan? Sugar-free? All organic?"

"It's real," you assure her. "Just for tonight."

"For tonight or just for us?"

"Well, they're... presents."

"Hmm," Nat plucks out a gummy. "You should join in on the fun."

"It's okay, really. I'm not very hungry right now."

"It's one candy," she nears and holds it between her talon-like nails.

"You girls and your vampires," Steve startles you as he appears in the archway. You glance over. 

"Whatever, scaredy pants," Nat shoves the candy towards you. "It's girls' night and you're jealous."

"You're stealing my wife. Damn right I'm jealous." He scoffs.

"Mhmm," Nat hums and pushes the candy through your lips. You widen your eyes as she pulls her thumb free. You bite into it and look at Steve. He doesn't look impressed.

"Just try not to get her in any trouble," he says.

"In your living room?" Wanda giggles.

"You two have a way," Steve chides.

"Says Steve Rogers," Nat shakes her head.

"Says her husband," he tisks.

"Fucking Christ," Nat mutters. "Think a vampire would be a better husband."

"I can hear you," he retorts. "Language."

He marches off and you give a guilty look as you chew. You wish they didn't argue so much. You just want to have a nice movie night.

[chibisquirt]

Celestial Navigation remix teaser

This isn’t even its final form.

No, seriously, this isn’t anywhere close to even a first chapter first draft.  It will change!  And I’m not writing it right now.  (I would say “I’m not writing The Thing,” except that that would be true, and this would be The Other Thing.)  I’ll probably seriously start work on this sometime in...  April?  May?  Right around then.  Definitely not during Remix Madness, not unless I can somehow work three work shifts and write *eyeballs it* 60-100k in two days.  

Don’t hold your breath.

But @sabrecmc​ said she loved my idea, and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it.  So this is... the start of an idea.

I had fun with it, anyway.

Tony stormed into the lab in a bitch of a mood, but he really didn't think he could be blamed.  Fury's words were still ringing in his ears like a boxing blow.  

“We have no problem with Iron Man; Iron man does damn good work.  And we have no problem with Tony Stark; Tony Stark is revolutionizing every lab we got in this damn place.  But Tony Stark and Iron Man being one and the same?  Yeah, that we kinda have a problem with.”

In the wake of Afghanistan, Tony had been adamant that Stark Industries would no longer make weapons that could fall into the wrong hands.  He couldn’t shut down every operation— SI was under contract for up to three more years, in some cases, and they couldn’t afford the fallout of breaking those deals— but all the contracts they were bidding on were dropped, and Tony had flat-out refused to consider any future deals making weapons.  

But he wasn’t willing to just shut down the company wholesale, so alternatives had to be found.  SI already made body armor and flight prototypes; Tony had ramped those categories up, adding green energy and communications to their list of milieus.  He had SI producing with his usual high standards within months, and SHIELD was his biggest contractor.  

Of course, once he had SHIELD clearance for those contracts— which weren’t being offered to the military yet— it made sense to bring Tony in as a contract engineer, too.  For the last three months, he had been romping around as many SHIELD research departments as he could find, and been playing merry hell with all of them.  (Except for linguistics; the linguists were a little weird, even for him.)   He already had a helicarrier under development, as well as some prototype hard-light armors that no one other than SHIELD would ever be willing to pay for.  He even had his hands in SHIELD’s perennially doomed efforts to create a super-soldier, not that he expected it to make a difference.  SHIELD had been failing at that one since back when they were the S.S.R., Tony didn’t exactly expect it to succeed now.  

The science division was about fifteen floors of the Triskellion (twenty-seventh to forty-second, in fact), but the central area of the twenty-seventh floor was its own little access way:  if you wanted to get anywhere in the science division, you had to go through there.  

Tony swanned into that science lobby like Alan Rickman entering a potions dungeon.  

“Alright, kids, show daddy the good stuff," he said, and a dozen Beta scientists leaped to obey.  Ten points to Ravenclaw, he thought, and sneered at the first project that came under his nose.  

Well, okay, come on— that wasn’t being in character, it was just a really bad design!  “Why did you put your damn rotors on the bottom, Evans?”  As if Tony didn’t already have a migraine...

“I thought— it’ll make for less wear on the bolts to heave up the body than to pull, right?  So—”

“First of all, no it won’t.  And second of all, it’ll increase the wear on the rotors themselves—”

“No, but— it lands in water, right?  I mean we’re not doing this from land, or anything—”

“ — and at those speeds, the water may as well be concrete!  This isn’t grade school—”

Evans got the message.

Tony worked his way through them, the UAV’s and the phasers and the—

“Please don’t call it that.”

“Well, if you come up with a better name than the ‘night-night gun’ I’m sure we’ll be happy to change it,” the little Beta huffed.

— and slowly worked his way through to the back of the lounge where the scruffy-looking Dr. Banner was waiting.  

“Done with the scrum?” Bruce asked.  He sipped his tea.  

“Mostly.  Saving the best for last.”  Tony pasted on an encouraging grin, just for him.  

It wasn’t Bruce’s fault, it really wasn’t.  Bruce was a good damned scientist, careful and thorough and painstaking, but with an effortless grasp of higher concepts of physics and chemistry that still seemed to elude some of his more decorated colleagues out there.  It was Bruce’s bad luck, though, to be assigned to the shittiest project in the whole place.  Seriously:  if the projects were potions students, Bruce’s was Neville Longbottom.  And it wasn’t fucking fair— but then, very few things were.

Plus, at this point, Bruce was contributing to his own relegation.  It wasn’t like his good work had gone unnoticed— if no one else had tried to scoop Bruce, then Tony would have.  But as Tony had been informed— repeatedly, and at a variety of volumes, some of which had not been necessary, thank you, Fury— Bruce had stubbornly insisted that he could crack his stupid Super-Soldier project, and had remained, slowly chipping away at it, for over a year after he could have been reassigned.

That was honestly the only reason Tony was even interested in the project.  It was a bad idea; far too much potential for abuse, for one thing— what if you super-soldiered the wrong guy, and got a madman?  So Tony jumped on board to help Bruce get done faster, and then he started screening the candidates, too— just to make sure they were all people he would trust with super-powers.  It took up more of his time than anything else he did here, but it was also a bigger challenge:  psych evaluation wasn’t exactly Tony’s strong suit.  See exhibit one:  Stane, Obediah, betrayals thereof.

“Got a new batch of subjects in,” Bruce said mildly.  “I know you like to meet them.”

“Fabulous; something else to fail at.”

Bruce stopped and pivoted halfway through the door of his department, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Tony sighed.  “Nothing.  Meeting with Fury went... poorly.”  

Bruce tipped his head to the side, but didn’t push.  Very restful guy, Bruce.  Tony really did like him.  “First one’s through there,” was all he said, pushing through and back to the exam rooms.  Bruce’s department was set up so much like a doctor’s office that Tony suspected it had originally been intended to be one, and the decor didn’t help:  muted tones and uncomfortably-padded furniture.  He even had magazines in the waiting room, although, being for SHIELD agents, they were more Guns&Ammo than out-of-date US Weekly.  

Tony snagged the file out of the holder on the back of the first exam room door.  “Barnes, J. B., Level 3 SHIELD Agent,” he read off.  “Fabulous, more spies; just what we need.”

Bruce nodded unironically and headed to the lab— ostensibly to run tests, but Tony knew that was where he kept his teapot, and his mug was suspiciously empty.  Mark down another on the list of people who drink around me, Tony thought, although the thought was a lot fonder than it usually was.  “Be nice to that one,” Bruce instructed.  “I like him.”

“Good lord, why?”  Tony opened the door.  

“I’m serious, Tony; he’s on the short list.”

Tony blinked, and then without another word, stepped through, closing the door behind him.

J. B. Barnes was tall and fit, a Beta wearing a SHIELD uniform.  So, they hadn’t pulled him off of an assignment for this, then.  Closer examination revealed the cast on his left arm:  a-ha.  Benched, for now.  His hair was brown, eyes pale— blue or gray, hard to tell at this distance— and his ears, apparently, were sharp, because he was grinning.  

There was something familiar about that grin...  Tony shrugged it off.

“Name and birthday?”  

The grin barely faltered— no more than a sixteenth of an inch.

Okay, and right off the bat, that one was probably on Tony; they were required— stupid Bruce and his stupid scrupulousness about protocols— to confirm the identity of the people they were talking to before discussing any medical records.  But Tony didn’t have to say it quite so sharply.  He didn’t usually spit the words “name and birthday” like they were going to take out Gilderoy Lockhart, after all.  So once Barnes had confirmed that, yes, he had been born March 10th, twenty-one years ago, Tony settled into the little doctor’s stool, did a full rotation because wheelie stools never got old, and apologized.  “Been a long day,” he explained it, “people being difficult.”

“And by people you mean pirates?”

Tony almost didn’t get it for a second, because it was said so blandly it might as well have been asking his oatmeal preferences, and because it was so unexpected coming from a Level 3 agent.  “You usually that irreverent about Fury?  He might keel-haul you.”

Barnes grinned again.  “I have a well-established pattern of snark,” he admitted.  “There’s a reason I’m only a level three.”

Tony looked back at the chart again. “You’re a baby,” he said absently, “don’t take it personally—”

It was a pretty impressive chart, though.  “You can shoot.”  

“Yeah, a little.”

Barnes could probably win gold at the olympics and be set for life, given the numbers from his last round on range.  Sure. “A little,” Tony repeated dryly.  “Interrogation specialist, really?  ‘Exceptional problem solver,’ what does that even mean?  And you speak...”

“Five languages— well, okay, the Irish is mostly profanity.”

Tony hefted the file.  “This says four.  Counting the Irish.”

Barnes shrugged.  “The Klingon’s more recent,” he admitted, “and it really shouldn’t count anyway, there’s only, like, three thousand words—”

“Closer to thirty-five hundred.”

“It’s not Chinese, though, right?  I mean...”

Tony’s mouth twitched.  “It’s not Chinese, no.  Or... Russian, apparently.  Huh; eclectic.”  

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“There a reason you’re busting my balls?”

Tony paused.  More of the snark?  Or was he really being too harsh?

“I mean, given that Doc Banner just told you he likes me.  Either you’re trying to break me— which, good luck, chill out though because it’s not going to happen— or you’re in a legitimate shitty mood.  In which case, I’d rather not be your punching bag.”

There was something about how he said it...  The young man wasn’t saying it to push, like another Alpha would have.  He wasn’t saying it defiantly, either; it wasn’t like he was daring Tony.  That one was a standard technique in Alphas and Betas alike:  the Alphas used it to start a fight, the Beta’s used it to make the Alphas look irrational and over-emotional.  It usually worked pretty well in either case, too, although Tony had seen it often enough in boardrooms that he could handle it.

But that wasn’t what was going on here, and the difference was so obvious it set Tony blinking.  The guy— Barnes— was just stating a fact, that was all.  “Here’s what I see, and that’s how it is.”  No bravado, no push— just truth.

Which neatly left only one possible response.  “Sorry,” Tony said again, and meant it this time.  “Pirates.  You know.”

“Perils of the high seas,” Barnes agreed.  “But it’s just us up here in the crow’s nest; you wanna talk about it?”

Tony laughed, impressed by the balls on the guy if nothing else.  “No.”

“Could help.”

“No,” Tony repeated, struggling to keep down the simmering heat that had been resting behind the arc reactor since his meeting with Fury delivered his ultimatum.

“Look, we like what you do, Tony— there’s no doubt about that— but Iron Man is too reckless, too borderline suicidal, to also be the guy essentially running every research operation we have!  Add to that, every analysis we’ve got—”

Tony had sent Natasha Romanov, sitting at the table with them, a dirty look, but she had just blinked slowly at him and Fury hadn’t checked his tide of words.  

“ — has indicated that Iron Man is a dysfunctional personality— and that was even before we knew he was also you.”  

Tony caught his breath.  Iron Man was the best of him; hearing that even his best wasn’t good enough... that hurt more than he wanted to admit.  And certainly not to Fury.  

“He is headstrong, disregards the standard protocols of operation, twice he’s put our other agents in danger—”

“Point of order:  he can’t put your ‘other’ agents in danger because he isn’t one—”

“I don’t care, Stark.  Make a show.  Be stable.  Invest in the future—”

“What do you think the whole ‘green energy’ thing is about?!”

“ — personally invest.  Hell, get yourself an Omega!  Pop out a couple kids!  We’ll all pray the brains are heritable and the personality isn’t.  Just... don’t break things, for once in your goddamn life.  Show me you can be a team player, and I’ll think about it.  Show me you’re not an adrenaline-junkie mess, and I’ll welcome you back with open arms!  But until that happens, Iron Man— and you— are barred from all aspects of the Avengers Initiative.”

Fury had almost made it to the door when Tony’s head snapped up.  “You know,” he called, “if you don’t break things, you can’t put them back together with improvements!”

The only answer was the whisper-soft slide of the Black Widow’s boots as she followed Fury out the door.

“Unless you’ve got an Omega in your pocket,” Tony said now, his voice approximately as dry as a dead cactus, “I’m shit out of luck.”

Barnes froze.  He blinked, and then blinked again.  He looked around the room as if scanning for cameras before bringing his head back around to meet Tony’s eyes.  “I mean...”  He rubbed his palms along his navy blue trousers as if he were trying to rid them of sweat.  “...You can’t tell Fury.”

Tony froze, thinking about it.  It had been an offhand joke, a throwaway line designed to get the conversation back on course.  But then again...

Tony was about to make a very, very, very large mistake. He tossed Barnes’ file on the counter.  

“Tell me more.”

[cole-grey-writes]

Different, 70 Years Later

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-The Avengers

Character(s): Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Warning(s): swearing, perceived homophobia, mentioned period typical homophobia

Request: Omg hi i miss seeing you in here. Can i request Steve Rogers X Male Reader angst + fluff. Like they had a big fight and then in the end they just forgive each other and cuddle and talk about a beautiful memories together until they both asleep. I love you ❤️

A/n: WOW can i just apologize that it took me literally months to finish this. I’ve just been so preoccupied by another fandom that I started hyperfocusing on (it was my hero academia if anyone wants to know). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and ignore the fact it took me a decade to get it out :)

You and Steve have only been dating for five months when you have your first fight. Honestly, it’s surprising that it took this long to happen.

You wish you didn’t remember what the fight was about, you really wish, but you remember exactly.

The fight had started due to Steve’s attitude towards your relationship. It’s clear that Steve isn’t ready to come out to his friends about your relationship, as you’ve come to realize, but that’s obviously not your actual concern. You’re not at all bothered by Steve not being ready to come out, it’s a subject you would never push. No, there’s a much bigger issue that you have a problem with.

It seems Steve is still being influenced by rotten and outdated 1930s ideology, still thinks that being queer is a bad thing which is very much untrue. You had done your best to explain that to your boyfriend, done your best to explain that there is absolutely nothing wrong with two men being in a relationship despite how much Steve’s time period has convinced him otherwise. Your efforts to help had backfired, though, for reason you can’t even begin to figure out.

Steve had gotten defensive all of a sudden, the conversation getting out of hand and blurry from there. The conversation turned into something else, something bordering on a screaming match. The fact that it was near midnight when the fight began had saved your neighbors from having to endure any interrupted sleep.

You and Steve had broken apart, eventually. Unfortunately, it was not because you were actually done fighting and instead, because Steve had stormed out of your apartment where you both had gathered after a long day (well, more like a week) of work. Maybe it sounded cliche or something, but you realized you wouldn’t be speaking to Steve for a while once you hear the echoing of the apartment door slamming shut.

You were right about you and Steve not speaking because you’re sitting in a local coffee shop called Honey Bean all by yourself by the time a week has passed.

You’re settled down at one of the two-seater tables in the front of the coffee shop so that the sun can bath you in light. You’d ordered a large muffin, although it’s not your favorite kind because apparently they don’t make more batches after 10:00 a.m., and are also half-way finished with your second venti cup of iced coffee. It’s not much of a lunch, though you don’t really care because you weren’t paying attention to your food all that much.

Your mind is still preoccupied with the fight, unable to force the thoughts revolving around it away.

“Want some shop with that coffee?” the voice breaks through the constant replay from behind your eyes. Your eyes snap up to Clint who has taken a seat across from you. You and Clint have both worked for SHIELD for years so you are very close, working as partners on missions many times. Actually, missions are where you and Clint grew closer, Natasha Romanov as well, which lead to your inevitable friendship.

You press your lips together, putting your coffee down as you refrain from rolling your eyes. “How’d you find me?” Clint’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something but you interrupt him at the last moment. “Why am I even asking? You had Nat track my phone, didn’t you?”

Clint smiles too sweetly for the conversation you have no doubt is fast approaching. “You got that right.”

“Well,” You sigh heavily, “have at it. Say what you want to say.”

Clint hums, clearly appearing amused is the smile he’s failing to hide is anything to go by. “You know, I think I’ll start with the fact that you’re sitting in a coffee shop all alone because you’re too embarrassed to run into Steve in the SHIELD cafeteria.”

You don’t reply to Clint’s spoken truths as you play with the crumbly remains of your muffin. You mumble something along the lines of, “Hate being friends with SHIELD agents,” but your miniscule snip only causes Clint to laugh.

“So,” Clint says, “are you gonna explain why you and Steve are avoiding each other?”

You stare straight at Clint instead of avoiding eye contact, otherwise that would be admitting defeat, but you don’t say anything either because that would also be considered admitting defeat mostly because you have absolutely no idea what the hell you’re supposed to tell Clint. You and Steve are in a secret relationship. It’s bad enough that spilling your guts to Clint would be sharing your relationship without Steve’s permission but you would also be outing Steve in the process, which is completely out of the question disrespectful.

“No?” Clint says in a wondering tone before he shrugs, almost as if he knew you were going to refuse to answer the question. “I guess I’ll just tell you why you’ve been avoiding each other. You two got into a fight, a pretty bad one, not that it was hard to figure out. Bad enough to drive a visible wedge between two best friends who’ve been practically joined at the hip for months.”

You’re even more speechless, more than before, as Clint stares at you knowingly from across the table. Apparently, it’s his turn to sip his coffee pointedly.

You choose to bite the bullet and speak when Clint doesn’t continue picking apart your relationship with Steve after about a minute of complete silence. “Do you have a point to this?”

“There is a point,” Clint confirms. “The point is to make you talk to Steve.”

“Yeah, no shit. But, why?”

“Because you pout everywhere you go,” Clint informs you as if you didn’t already know. “Look, you’re obviously really bothered by whatever the fight was about. You and Steve aren’t gonna go back to what you were before unless you talk to each other about whatever happened.”

Your gaze lowers dejectedly, towards the muffin crumbs that stick to the napkin it sits on. The picture is clichely symbolic of what your and Steve’s entire relationship is gonna be if you don’t at least try to work through your fight. “You really think me and Steve could go back to being what we were before?”

Clint doesn’t even seem to hesitate before answering. “Guess you won’t know until you talk to him.” You roll your eyes more due to the harsh truth behind his words than any actual annoyance towards Clint for saying it.

You chew the inside of your cheek as you wonder if you should say what you’re thinking because you know it’s gonna be a very high ego boost for Clint. Ultimately, you decide to say it anyway. He deserves it after coming all this way so he could get two friends back together.

“You’re too convincing for your own good,” you tell him, Clint only smiling smugly in response. “Thank you.”

Clint shakes his head slightly. “Thank me by tracking Steve down and talking to him.”

Smiling, you nod in agreement. Finding Steve and making up is definitely going to be an immediate priority.

Standing from the table, you pick up all your trash, which just consists of a dirty napkin and two empty coffee cups, so you can throw it out on your way out of the door but Clint is stopping you.

“You can also thank me with another coffee,” Clint quickly adds before you’ve even begun to walk away. You scoff in disbelief before you internally give up.

“I’ll buy you as much coffee as you want when this is all over,” you promise him while grinning at the return of Clint’s playful personality.

Clint grins back at you, saying, “I’ll hold you to that.”

It seems as if the walk back to SHIELD takes forever while simultaneously taking no time at all which makes you even more anxious because now the discomfort and awkwardness that will be accompanying this talk is closer than you would like. But, that thought is quickly shoved away by the other side of your brain. Instead, it presents you with another thought, a fact actually that if you didn’t have this talk with Steve, your relationship would never be able to heal.

You suddenly realize that this fight could very well cost you your relationship with Steve which is even worse than having to deal with some minor discomfort for an hour at most. You don’t want that at all.

You remember how Steve had been adamant that being queer wasn’t right, most definitely from internalized homophobia, but you also remember how painfully upset he had looked while you two were going back and forth. You don’t want to give up on Steve, he doesn’t deserve that, especially not after enduring so much violent discrimination in his day and even some in the current years. Steve deserves to finally have some reprieve, deserves at least a shot at a happy ending.

You waste no more time wallowing in your own side of the story, pushing yourself to find Steve quickly.

Trudging through the halls of SHIELD headquarters seems to be more confusing than usual but you still manage to find Steve before the end of lunch. You spot him through the giant windows that provide a good view into the cafeteria. Steve is sitting with Natasha at a table with half-eaten food forgotten in front of them. Now, you want to march right inside the cafeteria so you can talk to Steve immediately but you don’t want to interrupt his lunch with Natasha so you just wait impatiently in the hallway.

Leaning against the wall across from the double-doors leading into the cafeteria, you watch as Steve finally stands from his table. Steve and Natasha exchange some sort of short conversation before he’s hastily making his way out of the cafeteria. Steve’s in such a hurry that you’re almost worried you won’t catch him before he walks off.

“Steve!” you call out, Steve pausing in his apparent quest to turn towards you. His eyes widen slightly upon recognizing you. As you approach him, you wonder, “Hey, um, can we… talk?”

“Wha– yes, of course!” Steve stutters awkwardly. “I was… actually just looking–”

And then there’s a buzzing noise echoing out from his pocket, clearly coming from his phone. You and Steve stop moving at the same time, the same look crossing your faces because you know exactly what that buzz means.

“You have a mission,” you state plainly as if Steve didn’t already sense that.

Steve sighs sadly, mumbling, “Yeah.”

You had feared this precise situation. You had wanted to make up with Steve before he left for a mission so that your fight wouldn’t stew any longer than it already has.

“This isn’t over,” Steve blurts. You look at him, confused and slightly worried at his phrasing. “I–I mean… I’ll text you. When the mission is over. We’ll talk.”

Managing a smile, you nod your head in agreement. When Steve steps forward, eyeing you questioningly, it takes a second for you to understand why. He’s clearly wondering whether or not it’s okay for him to kiss you goodbye. Kissing goodbye was just something you always did before Steve left for missions, your shared way of expressing that you’re gonna see each other again.

You take a step forward as well, understanding and relief flashing through Steve’s eyes as you do so, and you come together to exchange your goodbye kiss. You stay in the kiss for as long as you can but Steve’s phone is buzzing inside his pocket once again.

Separating reluctantly, you watch as Steve turns and walks away from you as the kiss lingers in your mind. Remembering how it felt, remembering that it felt like every other goodbye kiss you’ve exchanged before, which is surprisingly comforting to you.

The kiss in no way signifies that everything is fixed between you and Steve but it definitely means that you aren’t going to run away from each other anymore.

The mission doesn’t last very long, surprisingly, because Steve texts you around 9 o’clock asking you if he could stop by your apartment after he lands which you immediately agree with. You don’t even have to think about it anymore, the hours you spent alone giving you some time to really think about your fight.

In all honesty, as the hours ticked by, the fight between you and Steve grew to appear increasingly stupid and kinda messed up. You can’t even believe you’d blown up at Steve like you did instead of trying to reassure and comfort him. Steve isn’t like modern day homophobes, he didn’t have an open environment in his days to safely navigate and learn about queerness.

Your mind races with all the better ways you could have reacted to Steve as you impulsively made your living space cleaner for your boyfriend’s arrival. He knocks on your door at just past 10:30 p.m. and you don’t even have the willpower to stop yourself from instantly opening the door so it doesn’t seem like you were anxiously waiting right next to it.

You and Steve nervously stare at each other from opposite sides of the door before you finally step aside and invite him in. Steve smiles and enters your apartment, which is when you notice that he’s still dressed in his Cap uniform meaning he came straight to you after he landed. It’s a little dirtied and has clearly been drug through the mud but it’s not destroyed.

Relocating to the living room, Steve sits on the couch while you choose to sit perched up on the arm of the single seater. “Okay, so I think I should start off by telling you that I’m sorry,” you say, speaking meekly while subconsciously rubbing at the back of your neck. “I know that’s probably not what you wanna hear–”

“No, I’m sorry, too. I didn’t react the way I should have…” Steve trails off, as if he’s trying to get his thoughts and feels in order. “It’s just that I don’t think I’m ready to tell people, yet.”

Your mind stalls at your boyfriend’s words for a moment, your confusion causing you to stutter. “Wha– Steve, you don’t have to be.”

Steve’s face falls as he seems to cave into himself slightly, the sight twisting your guts in circles. You have never wanted to make Steve feel like that, like he has to hide from you. “That’s not what you said earlier.”

You feel your face scrunch up in confusion as your head tilts to the side. “What do you mean?”

Steve shifts around in his seat awkwardly. “Earlier, you know…” he shrugs and waves his hand around a bit, as if to help remind you of what he’s talking about. “when you were trying to convince me to come out.”

“What, Steve, no!” You’re immediately sitting up straight in your seat, your entire face widening in surprise. “That’s-that’s not what I was trying to say at all.”

“It wasn’t?”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, of course not. Me trying to bully you into coming out is just as bad as outing you myself. The only person who gets to decide when you come out is you.”

“Well, then what was I even mad at you for?” Steve wonders, his turn for his face to mold into a questioning expression.

“I have no idea… alright, let me get something straight,” you speak slowly, trying to make sense of the fight you and Steve had a week prior. “Last week, during our fight, you were only telling me you weren’t ready to come out about our relationship.”

“Correct.”

“And… and you weren’t actually saying you that being queer was a bad thing?”

Steve’s eyes darken with worry. “You thought I was saying that?” his voice seems so small, it makes you feel guilty for even thinking what you thought.

“I don’t know,” you sigh heavily, hands coming up to rub at your face. “I thought you were still being effected by your time period’s public homophobic ideals.”

Steve hums understandingly for some reason. “I know I used to internalize that stuff before, but I’ve worked through all that. I know being queer doesn’t make me less than others.”

You stand from your place on the arm of the single seater sofa so you can approach and reassure your boyfriend of the feelings you had previously thought he had. “That’s good, it doesn’t,” you pause before continuing. “I only wish I could go back and actually understand what you were saying. This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if I had just listened to you.”

“We both weren’t listening,” Steve smiles up at you sadly, clearly just as regretful as you are about this stupid fight that obviously shouldn’t have even happened in the first place.

You and Steve sit in silence for a moment, processing everything that’s just come out about your fight. There’s not more words exchanged between you as you both stand from your seats and gravitate towards each other in order to wrap your arms around each other.

You hug tightly for quite a long time, not saying anything, until you finally say, “I know you didn’t say anything about spending the night…”

“… Yeah,” Steve answers your unvoiced question without hesitation.

Somehow hugging even tighter, you and Steve manage to maneuver yourselves into the couch, laying side by side while pressing up against each other. You’re mostly on your back with Steve’s head resting near your neck and unable to stop yourself, you rest your hands in Steve’s soft blond hair in order to play with it despite how much soot and dried sweat lays within it.

It’s a while before one of you speaks. Steve begins to wonder out loud, “You remember how we met?”

You scoff lightheartedly, “How could I possibly forget?”

The memory comes to your mind easily. It was in the SHIELD cafeteria, you and Steve walking with your respective companions when Steve makes a sharp turn and accidentally bumps into you. Steve’s tray of food, as well as your own, spills all over you and your agent uniform. You remember Steve becoming a stammering mess of apologies out of embarrassment while Natasha stood next to him, surveying the scene in obvious amusement.

“You cost me $15 in dry cleaning,” you remind your boyfriend.

“I paid you back,” Steve whines as he pouts playfully.

Pressing your lips to Steve’s forehead, you mumble, “You certainly did.”

And, in fact, Steve did pay you back and he paid you back in the form of a two hour coffee date three days after he’d asked you out with a face as red as the tomato soup he’d spilled all over you.

You and Steve fall into a comfortable silence as you both seem to reminisce about an easier time in your relationship. Not that you want to go back to that time, you’re confident in that because while the first few months were easier, you and Steve have become more connected as time went on. You and Steve are closer to each other than you had been in the beginning and you don’t want to lose that for anything, not even for an easier time in your relationship.

“I know we can’t prevent fights,” you mutter, voice catching Steve’s attention. “But, can we at least promise that we’ll never stay away from each other for that long ever again?”

You feel Steve trying to burrow further into your neck as he says, “Only if we promise not to yell at each other that loud ever again.”

You agree immediately.

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

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[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Unworthy Clone

 Request

warning: language, angst,

Summary: Steve Rodgers x child clone reader. Shield sends the avengers to look into a series of destroyed hydra bases where they meet someone with a deep grudge against Steve. (Y/n was created by hydra to be the perfect killer but was abandoned in a hydra base due to her fits of anger and bloodlust) (y/n hates Steve blaming him for her existence) ( y/n was given the super-soldier serum as a child and has made her extremely violent when upset) (PTSD in the form of fits of hysteria and anger) 

Note: This is not a series and never will be

It had been a few weeks since she has seen anyone she was surprised she was still alive as she hadn’t eaten for weeks and the only water she got dripped from a pipe that was dripping slowly. She didn’t know when everyone had left the noise outside her cell got quieter and quieter until one day it was silent. She didn’t know what had caused them to leave just uproot themselves and leave her behind. And she didn’t know why they left her- Actually she did, she was known to kick, punch, scream, and bite leaving some people with wounds and others with permanent damage. So it’ s not really shocked that they left her.

It didn’t matter anymore she was slowly dying and she didn’t care she was welcoming it with open arms, although she wishes it wasn’t so boring and slow. She would kill for some entertainment. Or even just letting her arms out. 

She had harmed so many soldiers that they put her in a thick straight jacket wrapped in chains and chained to the wall even her feet were chained down. And the chain was rigged so when every the door opened she would be suspended in the air. That’s how scared they were of her that was just some of the many precautions they took. 

But that didn’t matter now, she was going to die in a straight jacket chained to the wall never to be seen or heard of. Hydra made her but never used her what a shame ... not really.

She was busy humming a random tone to herself when she heard something it sounded like footsteps and whispers. Maybe that had come back for her. Maybe they had food. She began to use her chain to make as much noise as possible. She often did this when she was hungry and wanted some to feed her. She hoped someone would hear her whoever was walking by.

And they did the door creaked as it slowly opened. She gasped as the chains started to move to lift her up and hanging her from the ceiling. 

“Hello” (Y/n) said her voice rough and raw as the man stepped into the room she was busying swinging around so she couldn’t see his face.

“who-what?What?...um are you okay?” she heard that voice before it was familiar but she couldn’t pin it to anyone.

“I’m hungry and I’m hanging from the ceiling” she spoke softly as her throat hurt. she hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“I found someone sixth hall the door is open,” he said pressing something in his hear. So he wasn’t alone. “ Hey, kid, what your name?”

“(Y/n)” she heard the unsheathing of a knife and felt him grab her leg to stop her from spinning.

“how old are you, (Y/n)?”

“I... I don’t know” 

“Well, my name is Bucky and I don’t really know my age either. How about we get you out of here and find out, okay?”

“Okay”

Bucky managed to get her out of her chain and unhooked her straight jacket. When (y/n)’s feet touched the floor she immediately buckled falling to her knees it had been months since she had last used her legs and weeks since her last proper meal. She just didn’t have the strength to even lift herself.

“Can you walk?” she shook her head a bit frustrated with herself. She looked up at the man who saved her about to say something but whatever it was went out the window when she realized who was her savior.

“ Soldier? S-soldier. You came back for me Soldier. You came back” (Y/n) threw her arms around Bucky as she hugged him pouring all her heart into him. Bucky didn’t say anything picking her up bridal style and carrying her out instead. 

(Y/n) was happy to see the soldier and overjoyed he was carrying her out of this hell hole. She gasped and buried her face in the crook of his neck as the cold snow snipped at her exposed skin.

“we’re almost there,” he said as he quickens his pace as others called out to him.

“What did you find?” someone asked as Bucky walked into what looked to be a plane. He didn’t answer them putting her in a seat.

“Get me a blanket” he demanded a dark-skinned man, named Sam, came forward handing her a thick blanket. Bucky took it and wrapped her in it swaddling her “ are you alright? Is that okay?” (y/n) gave a small smile and nod. As he continued to swaddle and make her comfortable people started to walk aboard a few stops to ask about her but not receiving any answer. 

A man named Bruce Banner came up to her and asked if she had any wounds she kicked out her ankles which were bruised and rubbed raw. He applied an ointment to her skin before wrapping them both up.

“How long have you been here?” Bruce asked. He found it strange how cheerful and okay she seemed despite her pale and sickly appearance. 

(Y/n) was about to answer him when the last person boarded the plane. She knew actually who he was when she heard him how could she not it was all the guards ever talked about. Him. Him. Him. She loathed him with every fiber in her body. Hated him. Despised him. His very existence burned her fury fire of hate.

Captain America. Steve Motherfucking Rogers.

Bruce noticed the changed in her attitude and behavior changed as she tensed up and began to glare at whatever was behind him. The cheerfulness was gone and replaced with pure hate and blood lust. Honestly, it scared him, Bruce, slowly walked away finding a seat far away from her. She was scary.

Bucky also noticed her attitude change and her instance glare on Steve. He tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t talk. 

Steve, on the other hand, was extremely uncomfortable and tried to avoid her gaze as much as possible but it was really hard.

Once they landed Steve was the first one out the plane and (y/n) wet back to her friendly self happily answering all their questions. It was quite strange how she was acting especially since she just escapes Hydra after being isolated for weeks with no food of water. 

“Would you like some more?” Tony asked teasing a bit but also serious as he watched (Y/n) scarf down two sandwiches and a bottle of water. She looked at him with wide-eyes more, she’s never been offered more. She glared at him suspiciously. There had to be some kind of catch. 

“...no thanks” despite her answer Bucky leaned in and quietly told Sam to go make another sandwich for her.

“So, kid, you’ve told us just about everything. Except how you got with hydra?” Tony said

“And for someone who kidnapped by Hydra for an unknown amount of time you’re really friendly-ow,” Bruce smacks Clint with a tablet.

(Y/n) sat in thought for a moment. Why was she so nice to them she didn’t have a reason to be nice to them she didn’t have a reason to be mean to them either but she was nice to them. They were kind to her but they were strangers. But she was nice to a few of the nurses and scientists involved with hydra but then again they were nice to her.

“ I ... return kindness. You’re nice to me so I’m nice to you. You haven’t done me any wrong so why should I be worried. Do you plan to do me wrong?”

“No, no we’d never hurt you,” Bucky said quickly. She smiled kindly at him.

“Thank you. And I was born there. My label was SII207 but the nurse and doctors took to calling me (y/n) I’m twelve... I think? I was born and raised in Hydra. I was supposed to be the perfect soldier but they said I was emotionally unstable. Failed experiment. At least that’s what the nurses and doctors said.” She sighed and looked down at her hands “ That’s probably why they left me there. Wasn’t worth the taking I guess.” she laughed but everyone could hear the sadness behind their voice.

“Well look on the bright side. Now you’re stuck with us” Tony teased trying to lighten up the mood.

“You guys don’t seem so bad.”

“You’ve only been here for a couple of hours. Just wait,, sweetheart, you haven’t seen anything yet. Give it a few more days then you’ll be begging to get out.”

-

A few days later and she didn’t want to go anywhere else. She made friends with just about everyone, except Steve. She was a little shitter towards Steve and avoided him. She was nice, polite, and didn’t upset anyone. She and Bucky had grown really close those two were like two peas in a pot never leaving each other's side. A few had even teased that she had replaced Steve as Bucky’s best friend but stopped because she didn’t like that. But it was true.

The only problem with having her around as she never finished the full health exam she never ever gave a blood sample. She did everything in her power to avoid blood test hiding, running away, changing the topic, hiding the needles, everything. To the point, the team thought there was something she was definitely hiding.

Now here comes the not so proud moment.

(Y/n) was asleep on the couch Bucky being the stealth son of a bitch he is snuck up on her and stuck a needle in her getting a good blood sample and she didn’t even feel a thing. And she didn’t realize anything until they all cornered her and Steve in the lab. 

“We took a blood sample from (Y/n)-

“I didn’t give a blood sample”

“I didn’t say you gave it I said we took it. Pay attention sweetheart” She glared at Tony he continued “ We took a blood sample and ran your DNA through the system and found a few interesting things. One, you have the super-soldier serum running through your veins and two-”

“Steve is your father” Everyone's eyes snapped to Bucky they were informed that she had the serum running through her veins but they were aware of her relations with Steve Only Tony and Bucky knew that until now.

Steve gasp he had a child he had a daughter. This was amazing this was beautiful this was wonderful. He took a step towards (Y/n) and she took two steps back. She did not share a look of joy with Steve her eyes were filled with rage and pain.

“Your m-”

“SHUT UP, SHUT UP” she screamed her hands shaking at her side “ I was supposed to be like you and exact copy of you but I came out wrong. They said I was too emotional, that I wasn’t focused enough, I wasn’t good enough. All I was good for was the new agents to beat on and use a target practice and when I wasn’t good enough for that they threw me to the side like trash.”

Steve tried to take another step forward but Bucky stopped him.

“ I didn’t ask for this I didn’t ask to exist or be born. I was forced into a world I didn't want to be part of this... I... I want to have friends my own age, I want to go to school, I want to have sleepovers and playdates, I want to know what it’s like to be - to have a childhood, I want to know what it’s like to dream a good dream and not memories that are nightmares.  But I can’t have any of that. You know why?”She picks up a pencil holder and throws it across the room.

“BECAUSE OF YOU” She started to pick things up and throwing them across the room at Steve “ I DIDN’T ASK FOR YOUR FILTHY BLOOD I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS LIFE. I DIDN’T ASK TO BE A MONSTER BUT I WASN’T EVEN GOOD AT THAT. I'm NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING.”She stopped throwing things and began to cry.

“It’s your fault I’m here. It’s your fault I exist. I HATE YOU” (y/n) lunged at Steve she caught his chin before Clint caught her her mid-air. She kicked and screamed trying to shake his hold as he dragged her out of the room.

“WHY, WHY, WHY” 

Steve gasps clenching his chest and collapsing in a nearby chair letting his head fall in his hands. He didn’t even care anymore he began to openly sob in front of everyone. They didn’t know what to do they’ve never seen him this broken before and the last time Bucky recalled seeing him this broken was when Steve’s mother passed and he doesn’t remember how they got through that. Bucky quietly rubbed Steve’s back but he didn’t know what to say he couldn’t find and soothing words.

Steve looked up showing everyone his tear-stained face.

“What do I do now?”

Nobody Knew.

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Breeding Season: Nights Run

Masterlist 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (Reader) x Bucky Barnes 

Warnings: Lemons, Steve being an ass, Fluff 

Summary: Picking up a few months later, it appears all her best laid plans have not gone as planned. The original plan scrapped the instant it appeared Steve nor Bucky are about to leave their care, especially after finding out she is carrying triplets. Trying to make the best of the situation, she attempts to convince Bucky, -who she has wrapped around her little finger-, to talk Steve into taking her on the evenings run. Does she succeed and find a way to escape or does she learn more about Steve and how he cares for her?

A/N: I was asked by several for a second part, and for once with all the good reviews and all I decided to write more! I had technically planned on writing more but wasn’t sure how many would like the story line.

Words: +4,100

————

With a huff she sat hastily in the plush armchair overlooking the grounds. It was entirely not like her. Usually it was harsh words, but at least she had taken to not trying to rip their throats out the past month. With his own attitude, Bucky sat the cup in his hand down hard on the counter, glaring over to where she pouted and looked out the window. 

The light was fading but the brunet knew she was watching the pack,-now her pack-, jumping around ready for the nights run. 

“You knew the answer when you asked doll,” Bucky tried to smooth things over, though to her it was useless words.  “Maybe if you hadn’t tried to run off the first month you were here-.”

Fuck. He shouldn’t have said that. Spotting her expression, he was trying to keep the little bit of peace they had made with their mate over the past few weeks, particularly after finding out she carried triplets. She still wasn’t showing as of yet, but then again it was a little less than 3 months. 

Stepping over to the chair she had curled up in, Bucky leaned over to brace on the arms. Following her gaze, the older alpha noted Steve wasn’t out with the rest. Leaning in, he laid his forehead to the side of hers gingerly nuzzling her ear. 

“You hungry,” he spoke quietly, Bucky felt as if she didn’t fight him as much as Steve; but 3 alphas in one room was volatile to begin with. Steadily, Bucky placed a hand on her lower belly, careful because she had finally admitted to her lower abdomen being tender. 

“No,” she hummed not about to admit how she relished in the gentle attention. Eyes fluttering closed, she took in the soft moment, having fought them fang and claw the last month was exhausting this early in her pregnancy. This bit of peace was refreshing, even if they had argued earlier and it wouldn't be long until Steve entered; and half the time it was a 50/50 shot what mood the blond was in. 

“I know better," Bucky hummed, rubbing over her lower belly, moving to place the calloused hand into the shorts to cradle the soft flesh. 

God, she was giving in to him, her body relaxing albeit slowly. The brunet alpha couldn't prevent himself from moving to his knees in the oversized chair, continuing to keep his head to hers. This was what he craved so badly from her, his new mate, the one carrying his as well as Steve’s cubs; he just hoped she wasn't about to spring on him.

Why was he so gentle? Bucky didn't need to be this kind to her, the hand on her lower belly soothing, comforting. If Steve came in, he would scold the older alpha for being too easy. Steve was sure to adhere to strict rules, a schedule with her, claimed it was because she used to be a lone wolf and needed to learn structure. Fuck Steve, he will get it eventually, maybe learn a thing or two from Bucky. 

She felt her own heart flutter and swore her lower abdomen done the same when dry lips pressed to her neck before laying his head on her shoulder. "What are you craving doll?”

“A run,” she whispered, not meaning to sound so disheartened but it was hard to hide. The alpha on her shoulder cringed at her admittance.

With a huff Bucky stood and stalked out of the room, leaving her staring after him. Well, looks like she just pissed him off. Maybe she should keep her mouth shut, but it wasn't in her. In moments the brunet was stepping back into the room, but he had brought Steve with him. The two snarling at each other as they paused in the entryway, the door slamming shut. 

“No,” Steve snarled only for Bucky to not back down. 

Bucky had taken enough of the others refusal to allow their mate a run. Regardless, lone wolf or not, Bucky knew she wouldn't stray far from the cubs fathers. It was instinct, a female was vulnerable when pregnant, even the lone ones knew the best chance for their and the cubs survival was the father, or fathers.  

“I say we take her out with us! This is doing no good to keep her cooped up in here! She is going to go steer crazy, not to mention the stress on the cubs!”

“She will run,” Steve snapped turning to realize she was sitting in the chair. Meeting her gaze, he seen the hurt, but she needed structure. “You will, want you?”

“No,” she shook her head, for once sounding innocent, keeping his gaze, but placing a hand on her lower belly. Growing pains. 

“Yeah I don’t believe that,” he scoffed. The blond had been snippy with the both of them the entire week, Bucky noting Steve hold her gaze and the hurt flash in her eyes before she turned to look out the window. It shocked Steve, she actually backed down for once.

Ok. That actually stung. Maybe it was the flood of hormones, but she swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing back the tears while it sounded as if the two alphas weren't done with one another. It appeared the pack had already went for their run, meaning it wouldn't be long until Steve left, but had a feeling Bucky would be the one staying this time.

“The cubs-,” Steve snarled, she felt to her bones. The sound of his voice meaning he still looked at her, but she didn't dare look back.

She had the feeling if she did it really would turn into a physical fight, possibly worse than when he wouldn't allow her out of the room the first few weeks. And that, wow, that started with her turning and attacking the blond, but ended with Bucky jumping into the brawl to pin Steve, the blonde in wolf form and Bucky in human form. Though, it did get her out of the room, Bucky taking her for a walk around the compound and getting her a meal in the cafeteria the agents used, but she enjoyed it. 

“They will be fine," Bucky snarled back to the blond making him turn to face him though he still eyed the female curled on the chair.

Maybe he was a little hard on her. 

"How many females have we seen shift and run with the pack until they were at least 6 months along,” the brunet snipped, hitting Steve in the arm to get him to focus. 

Bucky watched him weighing out the options, Steve’s baby blues looking over the woman in the chair who was absentmindedly rubbing her belly. They shared a bed with her, though she stayed closer to Bucky, the blond wasn't going to lie, he ached for her cuddle with him like the brunet. She was carrying their cubs after all, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let her go on a run. It was rare, even with multiples, the female losing any of the unborn.

Maybe this would make her warmup to him, the entire pack even. He didn't need heightened senses to tell she was longing for a run, tinged with the scent of rejection from his recent harsh words. Apparently a schedule, strict guidelines, or harsh words were not the way to win over their new mate. Turning back to Bucky he shook his head that he was giving in, looking back to her.

“Get changed,” he snipped before leaving. The blond was gone out of the room quickly to let the others know to keep an eye on her during the run. 

Quickly she looked back to Bucky who let out a huff that sounded more like a chuckle and looking over to her. Her excitement was that of a very young wolf who was finally allowed on their first run with the older ones. It bled over into him as he gave a lopsided smile.

“Come-on before he changes his mind,” Bucky rushed, hinting she get up as he stepped to the couch next to her chair. Or did, she was on her feet quickly and shedding clothes like him. 

In no time the woman shed all clothes in front of the chair making Bucky smirk at her boldness. It was apparent she was very proud of her thick curves, plump thighs and sure of her skill. Leaving Bucky shocked at just how quickly the change took her. The change was excruciating to many but a select few, very old lines, and enhanced wolves seemed immune to the slow change, torn muscles and breaking bones. 

In what felt like seconds a large silky coated wolf pranced before him sitting to look over his naked body. A quiet yip made him smirk at her impatience, but a few heartbeats later a bronze coated wolf emerged, one that was rubbing over her excitedly. So much that he knocked her to her side with a playful yelp only to wallow her more. 

Another reason she favored Bucky. The brunet showed more affection as if he had been deprived of it. He possibly had, the brunet never speaking to her of being under HYDRAs control, but she was able to gather bits and pieces. Playfully she nipped at his throat, surprised he allowed it, Bucky growling at her playfully, doing the same to her neck. 

The door opening made the russet wolf pause. The two looking over to Steve who was bare and eyeing the wolf pinned under Bucky. He had to admit, she was a beautiful creature in both forms, but he still stressed over her running off, especially carrying their cubs. 

“Are you two coming with the rest of us or staying here all night,” Steve sniped but not as much as earlier, it sounded as if he had calmed a bit.

In moments a golden coated wolf trotted in to usher them out. Once out on the grass, their mate took a moment to scent the air, both alphas keeping a close eye as she appeared to pause. The two behind her relaxing ever so slightly or that was until she spotted the tree line. 

In moments she was gone. The two on her heels but not for long, losing her in the brush and undergrowth. The blond wolf snarled over to the russet who rolled his eyes. Bucky's instinct told him she possibly hadn’t run off. Splitting off from Steve, the older alpha had an idea where she would come out at and sounded to the others to watch for her. 

Following his own trail, Steve huffed and snorted the entire time he followed her scent. He knew better than to let Bucky talk him into letting her run tonight. Their bitch had the brunet wrapped around her little finger, but then again Bucky was the one trying to make it work. It appeared all he seemed to do was argue with her and make things worse.

How did he let her know he desired so badly to make it all work? It was in no way a good way to justify his treatment of her, he knew that, but he loved her. Not because she carried their cubs, he loved her the moment he scented her, and he knew so did Bucky. 

Head down, Steve never heard the warning yelp, just the sudden pounce of another on his back. Not thinking, the blond wolf acted on instinct, flopping the attacker to their back under him. The pack alpha was preparing to let them have an ass chewing for distracting him but froze. It was her, their mate. 

She hadn’t gone far apparently, playfully she licked over his muzzle as he stared at her playfulness with him. This was what he was wanting all along, in moments both changed, Steve’s mortal form falling between the woman's spread thighs. Carefully he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, falling into her, holding tight and lacing his fingers into sweat damp hair to hold her head to the crook of his neck.

Taking his time, Steve relished in the tender moment before allowing her to lay back to the wallowed grass. Steve hovered over her, looking curvaceous form over before taking her lips in a passionate kiss. One she returned, her hands wrapping around sweat damp face before it was broken in haste the moment a brunet wolf leapt into the wallowed clearing. 

In moments, Bucky shifted and was on his knees at her head, taking the moment of surprise to seize her lips. One of her hands left Steve to lace into Bucky's sticky locks. The feel of Steve’s calloused hands on plump hips made her body tingle, especially as the blond moved her to position her to her knees, lips never leaving Bucky's. 

Gingerly Steve lifted her so her back was flush to his chest, her knees off of the harsh earth and sinking hard cock into heated core slowly. The blond keeping focus on her face as she gasped, Bucky moving forward to assure she was steady. Hastily Steve jerked her lips from Bucky, the blonde taking them without remorse as the woman became pinned between the two alphas while Bucky's fingers pressed over her clit. 

Bucky let out a snarl when it appeared Steve wasn’t releasing her lips for the brunet to take once more. The blond holding her off her knees as he thrust into her lazily. The older alpha nipping at her jaw, his hand lacing into her hair in efforts to regain control from Steve. 

“Share,” Bucky finally snarled, taking her lips from Steve's to crash his own to hers. Bucky swallowed her whimper but couldn’t stop the grunt the moment her heated hand wrapped around his throbbing girth poking her belly. 

The brunet felt her shake, but within moments Bucky realized it was Steve. It was apparent the packs alpha wasn’t lasting as long as he wanted. The moment Steve spilled Bucky was taking their mate out of his arms, and she quickly wrapped her legs around the brunets hips, slowly sinking over his girth. Greedily Bucky swallowed her whimper of pleasure the moment he began to take her roughly. 

The brunets rough treatment made her core squeeze tight around him, her arms wrapped tightly around sweat drenched neck as the older alpha didn't relent, fucking into her at a mad pace. Breathing more labored, this wasn't a slow fuck like Steve, this was greed, it scented heavy on the brunet and dared she admit it turned her on more. 

It fed her own neediness, turning the woman into a panting wreck in his arms the moment Bucky noted Steve wrapped his hand around her neck. Bucky had his lips pressed into the side opposite Steve, but he knew the blond was leaving marks across her flesh just as he was doing. Letting out a growl when her overheating body jolted between the two at their actions.   

The noises falling from her lips spurred Bucky on, velvet walls so tight he couldn’t help but spill his seed into her greedy womb. The action made her own core clench before fluttering around him, the woman a mewling mess in his arms as her release took her. Hastily his lips fell to hers, slowly releasing his arms so she settled back into Steve who held the panting wreck in his arms; Bucky's pulsing cock buried deep in her as the brunet set back to collect himself. 

“Ready to run some more doll,” Steve drawled in her ear, feeling Bucky lean forward to nip and mark the opposite side of her neck. 

The older alpha's cock still buried in her cunt appeared to not be done with her. She could feel him growing hard again but so was the one pressing into her spine belonging to Steve. Giving a weak whimper she relished in the attention from the two, needless to say it was getting her in the mood for more as well. One’s hand brushing over a nipple while another cherished along her panting side. 

This wasn't at all what she had been taught being an alpha, or in this case two alphas mate was to be like. She had heard tales of pack alphas who become overly possessive of their mate, it was a primitive way of thinking, but was glad it didn't appear to be like that with these two. The two males who held her between them tenderly, keeping her from the ground and marking her body as theirs.

“Yeah sweetheart,” Bucky drawled himself, nipping under her ear before sucking a harsh bruise on the soft flesh, earning a moan and writhe between them. “We better go run while we can.”

Carefully Bucky slid from over filled cunt, allowing her hips gently to the ground. Shuffling back, Bucky bounded away a brunet wolf, leaving she and Steve alone. 

Lazily she looked up at the blonde who gave a smirk the moment she shifted but stayed on her back. Nipping at his bare chest, she relished in him rubbing his face into her soft throat. In moments the blonde shifted, -he was quick as well-, while she stayed on her back, Steve taking the opportunity to wallow her like Bucky had in the room. 

In moments the two bounded around like cubs before Bucky reappeared and joined in. Excitedly the three took off through the wooded area, seeking out the rest of the pack. It was apparent to Bucky, Steve was overly excited, running next to their mate and rubbing against her. The older alpha was glad it appeared it was smoothing out between the two. He knew it wouldn't always be like this but for once glad to not be on guard to keep her fangs off the blonds throat. 

Dawn came faster than expected, the call for the pack to return sounding from Steve. Bucky took the opportunity to lead her away from the pack leader. The older alpha knew Steve would have to wait out the entire pack and it gave him the perfect chance to rush back to the room with their mate. 

Nipping at her heels, Bucky hurried her into the compound and toward their room. With a yelp she took the stairs to the upper level, leaping onto their floor to shift mortal the instant she pushed the door open. The woman spun in time for Bucky to catch her, hastily sitting her on the kitchen counter so her back faced the door and slammed into her soaked core. 

“I want you first this time doll,” he growled, setting a grueling pace for her to brace on the counter. Calloused hands wrapped shaking thighs to keep her in place so he could pound into her juicy cunt. In bliss, her head lulled back heavily while Bucky took her mercilessly, his mate whimpering and moaning out to the room. 

“Good baby let him know what he’s missing,” Bucky panted feeling his cock swell.

In desperation he thrust harder, the feel of her tightening around his girth had his hips stuttering. Digging his fingers into plump thighs to leave bruises, his eyes raked over the length of her neck, marked and bruised by his as well as Steve's fangs. God she was everything to him, sweat streaking between her breast, scenting her end while she ground her clit on him when he thrust deep.

Drunkenly her head fell forward, looking at him through half lidded eyes she noted no color showed as he bared fangs to thrust balls deep and pause. Her breath hung in her throat as her own took her, feeling him pulse inside her, seed filling her womb for the second time that night. She noted his care of her, a hand releasing her thigh for the arm to slip around her waist and pull her flush to him. 

The brunet smiled at the feel of the younger alpha shivering against him, her arms shaking as they snaked around his torso. Kissing her marked shoulder, Bucky looked to the door. He sensed Steve just on the other side and wasn't disappointed as the door opened, revealing an irritated alpha. 

“You heard,” Bucky smirked, nuzzling at their mates neck, stopping long enough to smirk at the blond. The brunet watching as Steve came close, running a hand along her spine to feel her shiver. 

“The whole pack heard,” Steve smirked darkly, fingers traveling to the nape of her clammy neck to have her meet his gaze. The pack leader noting the dazed look the blissed-out creature gave him, drinking in her contented smile when he massaged over the back of her neck.  

“What do you say we go get our girl cleaned up,” Steve began, taking the limp creature from Bucky who barely allowed her to go with him. 

Instinctively her legs wrapped around Steve's waist, overfilled cunt pressing against his hard member. Quietly the blond praised her for not running off, for staying and not fighting them while making his way to the shower. 

Stepping into the large stall, warm water instantly began to rain over them, Steve still holding tight to her. She never noted Bucky had followed until the older alpha pressed flush to her back. Carefully Steve maneuvered her to lower tender cunt over throbbing manhood while Bucky pressed a lubed metal digit into her ass. 

She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. The pleasure was overwhelming, welcomed but her body shook with exhaustion. Wrapping her arms around Steve’s neck, glad the two males possessed the strength to keep her pressed between them. Allowing them to do the work so she could enjoy the ride. 

Carefully Bucky stretched her while Steve kept it slow. It was slow, quiet but for their panting, her throat felt raw from previous events, by no means had she been quiet. Laying her head on Steve's shoulder when Bucky removed his fingers to press his own hard flesh had her forgetting her sore throat to cry out in pleasure. The shower filled with more lewd noises until it all ended with the three froze as if stuck together. 

Tenderly the men pulled from her. Keeping their shivering mate between them as she was let to unsteady feet so they could tend to her. Unsure who done what, she felt like a rag doll between the two. The treatment they gave her was very comforting, it eased the worry she had when they first met, maybe pack life wouldn't be too bad.

All three cleaned, Bucky scooped her up, carrying the worn-out woman to their bed to lay her down gingerly. Carefully the brunet leaned down to kiss her lower belly before settling at her side. Steve going to the opposite side to do the same but pausing to lay his ear to her lower abdomen, listening to the three tiny fluttering heart beats. 

“Their strong,” she hummed, Steve moving to her side, watching Bucky nuzzle at her neck. 

“I know. But they are the first to be born in the pack,” Steve smiled at her sleepy face. 

“Steve worries doll," Bucky smiled to the sleepy woman between them. "They have her as their mother. Of course, they are strong,” Bucky chuckled in her ear, watching her turn to take Steve’s nuzzling. 

“I know. But I’m allowed to worry. I know you do too Buck. It's our first litter, we're allowed to worry,” Steve nuzzled, making her giggle before trying to hide in Bucky's neck, but she pressed her back to Steve's chest. 

“Look at our mate; trying to act all innocent,” Bucky drawled moving to allow Steve to cuddle with her before he done the same. 

“Yeah. I know better,” the blond, hummed settling to the mattress and against her back. A calloused hand laying on her belly before moving up to wrap her face, lacing into her hair to turn her head and press his lips to hers.

With a quiet chuckle, Bucky placed his vibranium hand on her lower belly, soothing over it as he watched the two. The brunet studied them close, waiting for the perfect time to take her lips himself. 

“Our mate,” Bucky echoed, Steve releasing her, so she could turn to Bucky. Tenderly she placed her lips to his before he settled in front of her. 

The female alpha settling heavily between the two who were sure to keep her pressed securely between them. The room growing quiet as the sun began to peak over the tree line. It appeared this was going to be a lazy day for the three, the two men looking forward to it with their mate resting quietly between them.

Tags are OPEN! REBLOGS ALWAYS WELCOMED!

Tags: @dark-night-sky-99 @gramaeryebard @katstablook @andiyholly @jovanna-shewolf @nickyl316h @aslandia726 @furstinnajoelle @itsbqueenthings @collinsstanharbour @jazzieomega @moonlightprime @bambamwolf87 @tomhardy41 @get-loki @drakonwild @alexakeyloveloki @scorpionchild81 @moonfaery

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steadfast 1

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

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

Character: King!Bucky Barnes (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you serve Duke Rogers, but when his friend, the king, takes an interest, you find your work in turmoil.

Note: I've wanted to do medieval drabbles for years. I bit the bullet and now we're all doomed. I was torn on whether to make this one Stucky however... I think Steve deserves a wifey in his own installment.

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

The shanks of brown hair rests between your fingers as you angle the shears. The snips is precise and careful. You work diligently, wordlessly, as the duke stares at his reflection. He’s lost in thought as you are cautious of his mindless tilts and tweaks. 

“It is looking rather better since Kennick’s butchering,” he muses. “I feared I might sport a monk’s pate anon.” 

“Your grace,” your keep your focus set, not looking up as you snip away another length of hair. 

“Not much shorter than that. Winter will be here soon enough,” Lord Rogers girds. “What of the beard? Shall I keep it for warmth as well?” 

“Your grace,” the reply rises again, a different lilt to it which says, it is upon your prerogative. 

“Hm, many other lords I’ve seen as late sport the like. As our king does,” he continues on. “Is it very common of me to do the same?” 

You draw a lock away from his face and stretch it above his forehead. Your voice does not rise as you bite the tip of your tongue with great concentration. You think of Kennick and the lashes on his palms. He is only a young boy; how could he be asked to do such a delicate task? 

A knock rattles the door. The lord’s eyes flash in his reflection as you peek at the mirror. There isn’t alarm, only attention. He flicks his fingers. 

“Please, pip, see to it,” he commands. 

You lay down the shears and leave him. You go to the door and draw it open. It pushes from the other side and you stumble back behind it. You nearly fold completely as you recognise the bearing of the broad shoulders. It is hardly a surprise for the king to appear, only that you forgot yourself in the calm of the previous moment. 

You keep your knees bent and head down as King Bucky strides towards the duke at his looking glass. You gently close the door as the liege receives barely a glance from the man at ease on his cushioned chair. He huffs and tugs his ear. 

“Is that how you receive your king?” King Bucky taunts as Rogers swats away his hand. 

“I wouldn’t want to make a mess,” the duke retorts and gestures again, “pip, it is still uneven.” 

You set your chin and return to the vanity table. You pick up the shears and nod your head, “your highness.” 

The king does not answer and he leans on the other corner of the table. He crosses his arms, the deep blue leather of his jacket straining. The duke tufts his chin again, paying heed to the patch of silver there. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your recent bout of baldness,” the king mocks. “Your head is much too lumpy for it.” 

“Have you come only to jeer me?” Rogers asks dully. 

You measure another shank and trim carefully. Often, you’ve done similar for your fellow servants. Usually with duller blades or a razor to the scalp. The duke usually only requires a tray or a flagon of you. The request was unexpected but undeniable. 

“Forgive me for disturbing you and your barber. I’ve a fine man from Rivard who sees to my own. A gold coin would’ve brought him to your stead,” the king suggests. 

“A waste of good coin,” Rogers sniffs. “Looking at you, I’d never assume any barber saw to that nest.” 

The king takes affront and smooths his dark tresses, a subtle wave near the bottom of his strands as they frame his chin. “Eh, you speak treasonous words. To insult a king’s hair is next to blasphemy, duke.” 

“Shall I take the cattails in hand?” Rogers counters. 

King Bucky chortles, “if I didn’t fear you’d aim them at my hide, I’d agree to it.” 

You peek up at the noise of his laughter. You’ve not heard it often from the king, not that you are often in his presence. He seems of a bright disposition that day. Even so, you flinch as your eyes snag on his. You quickly put your mind to the shears.  

“Mm, and what has brought on your good mood?” 

“Why shouldn’t I be in fine spirits?” 

“I ask why you should,” Rogers, turns his head and you recoil. A dusting of hair falls from the towel around his shoulders. 

“I should ask why you seem rather the opposite,” the king mutters. 

“I am not... unhappy. Pensive,” Rogers admits. “You’ve heard from Stark.” 

“Aye, whoever doesn’t hear him when he opens his mouth?” 

“Hm, I would think a rasher response of you,” Rogers intones as he turns to the mirror again and you comb your fingers from his hairline to his crown to compare. The king shifts as you sense his observation of your reflection. 

“Isn’t it what he intends? What good is it to feed his pride? If he should like to put on this display, then he shall make himself a fool. I’ll be all the more pleased for it to be at my hand.” 

“You don’t think it is some ploy?” 

“Of course it is? A tournament of kings? For what purpose but to put to mind the matter of war? To suggest that should we not play nice, a horse and shield might be appropriate.” 

You shift around to the back of the duke’s head, the king leans in. His movement draws your gaze and you find him watching your hands. It makes them more prudent. 

“I would not speak it into this plain, but do you not worry for his machinations? At any tourney, there are those who might take a deathly blow, or slip beneath their steed’s hooves--” 

“When did you grow so cautious? I can lift a sword and sit a horse--” 

“Should either be sabotaged? Should your plate be poisoned at the feast--” 

“Is there something you are aware of that I should be?” The king challenges. 

“Only that he is his father’s heir, in many ways,” Rogers harrumphs. 

“You think I should fear a dagger up a sleeve when you’ve a servant with two so near your eye?” 

You pause and the duke tuts, “keep on, pip,” Rogers orders as he waves off the king’s devious suggestion. 

“Ah, gentle hands, I see, forgive the poor humour,” he unfolds his arms and grips the edge of the table as he leans. “Rogers, you will be close. Vigilant as ever.” 

The duke sighs, “the winter nears.” 

“Is that it? You never liked the cold, I should’ve guessed it.” 

“I can bear the cold, but travel would be arduous.” 

“You would wait for the spring?” 

“Perhaps,” the duke slides a ring to the tip of his finger and spins it. “And Thor? Has he sent his agreement to this Field of Silk?” 

“I was to ask you the same. I presumed with how you get on, he might prefer you as his messenger,” the king says. “Very well, I will think on your concern.” He clucks and stands, moving closer as he watches you with intent. “I am surprised, I thought you would be most eager for a tournament. You were the Knight of the Lilies for years anon.” 

“A time ago,” Rogers rebuffs. 

“And time is still left,” King Bucky reaches again to tweak his ear, “I know they are rather big, but try not to snip them off, eh?” He japes as Rogers tilts away from his touch with a growl. “I shall leave you to your grooming, though perhaps next time you should just call the stabler.”  

The king strides away as the duke pushes his ring to his knuckle. The shears continue to snip noisily in the silence. The door announces the king’s departure with a sonorous echo. 

“My luggage will need prepared,” Rogers resigns. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet (1)

Warnings: this series will be a shorter one and will include blood/blood kink, cutting, noncon, and other triggers to be warned in future parts.

This features Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and is explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You unintentionally find yourself at an awkward impasse with your boyfriend's best friend.

Note:

So, I’m transferring this over from ao3! It’s two parts so far but I just kept procrastinating so if you didn’t see it over there, here it is on Tumblr.

I love you all and I always cherish your feedback and comments and wouldn't mind some on this piece here as well. It's never an obligation but always loved.

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It felt like you were always waiting on Steve. He was an important man and his time was equally as important. It wasn’t a surprise that he was so divided between his personal and professional life and you weren’t bitter for it. You learned to live with it. It was a precious sort of patience knowing that when his time was yours, it was spent without waste.

You sat with your phone pressed to your thigh. You were early but when it came to Steve, you were always early. You’d headed over right after work and he warned you his meeting might go late. You didn’t mind the wait so much. You knew most of his colleagues in the tower and it was almost like a second home.

You flipped your phone and checked the time again. You frowned. Even if time passed quickly, it felt too long. Those minutes dwindling that you could be with Steve. You couldn’t be upset; his work was demanding and at times, dire. And he was worth the wait.

As you sighed and flicked through your apps, looking for a distraction, you were startled by a shadow in your peripheral. Bucky had a habit of sneaking up on you and everyone else. His steps were light and measured. You glanced over as he waved to you with two fingers, his other hand clung to a slender metal box. You eyed it as you said ‘hello’ and dropped your phone into your purse.

“Waiting on Steve again?” He stopped on the other side of the empty chair behind you.

“He’s just wrapping up,” you shrugged, “What are you still doing here? You’re usually the first one out.”

“Oh, uh, just picking something up,” he gestured to the box. “Thought I’d stick around and get some practice in.”

You raised a brow and looked at the box again. “Well, what’s the mystery?”

“Ah,” he sat beside you and shifted in the chair. He rested the box on his leg and gripped the lid. He stopped himself and peered over at you. “I lent this to Sam on a mission and he didn’t return it in one piece.” He slowly unclasped the case and opened it. “It’s my favourite combat knife. A kabar. Not standard army issue, but I made a barter for it as we were taking over for a company of Marines.”

You eyed the long knife and its thick handle. Your eyes rounded. You weren’t unused to the presence of weapons but Bucky was so casual about it, it was almost scary.

“Oh,” you blinked, “Wait, you mean, way back…”

“1944.” He declared as he took it off the cushion, “It’s a relic. Well, the handle at least.” He balanced it with his vibranium finger, “You see?”

He turned the handle towards you. You eyed the butt where three letters had been engraved along the metal joint; JBB. You tilted your head as you leaned closer.

“Here,” he made it wobble, “Take it.”

“What? No… I don’t think I should,” you laughed.

“Go on. It’s fine.” He goaded, “What else are you gonna do? Your old man’s sure taking his time.”

“I’m not to be trusted with sharp objects,” you kidded, “If Steve was here, he’d tell you as much.”

“Boo,” he chided, “Don’t worry. I’ve trained greener than you. Just keep your hand on the handle and your fine.”

He waved the handle toward you and you tutted. Reluctantly, you accepted the knife and held it to the light as you admired the blade. It was large and you shuddered as you imagined it slicing through human flesh. You had no doubt it would do so easily.

“It’s a nice knife,” you remarked as you turned it in your hand, “Here.”

You slowly offered it to him but in your haste to be rid of the kabar, it slid in your grasp. You overcompensated for the slip and fumbled it completely. Without thinking and against Bucky’s sudden ‘don’t’, you tried to catch it before it could fall. The edge of the blade sliced your palm before the knife embedded in the floor.

You hissed and recoiled as you held your hand. Bucky shoved the metal box from his thigh and lowered it onto the floor. He turned to you and stared at your bloody palm as you tried to stems the flow.

“Shit,” he searched his pockets, “Are you okay?”

He got up and grabbed the box of tissues from the table on the other side of you. He sat again and pressed a wad of six tissues to your hand as he cradled it. He pushed and you winced with a whimper.

“Gotta apply pressure to slow the flow,” he said, “You’re fine. Probably just need some stitches.”

“Stitches?” You gulped, “Oh.”

You felt woozy as the sight of your own blood. You flinched as he clung to your hand, sandwiched between both of his as the tissue turned red. You heard footsteps along the next hall and you peeked over your shoulder as another appeared at behind you.

“Hey, you two,” Steve chimed, “Funny you ran into--” He choked on his words and rushed forward. “Woah, what happened?”

Steve knelt beside your chair and as good as snatched your hand from Bucky. The movement made your hand throb and Bucky watched Steve with a frown. He stood with a grumble and retrieved his knife from the floor and scooped up the box. Steve moved into the empty chair without looking.

“What were you doing?” Steve snapped.

“I dropped his knife. I was… well, you know how clumsy I can be.” You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

“His knife?” Steve looked back at Bucky and quickly turned back to you, “You let her play with that thing?”

“She’s not a kid, Steve,” Bucky sniffed.

“Maybe not but she got hurt,” Steve snipped.

Bucky pursed his lips and was silent Steve continued to mop up the blood as you watched the other man. Bucky lifted the knife and looked it over. You saw a tint of red along its edge and his blue eyes traced it before he lowered it into the case. He snapped it shut and held it in his metal hand as he left bloody fingerprints on it with his other.

He paused and held up his real hand. He turned it and looked at you between his fingers. His cheek twitched and his eyes returned to his stained flesh. His mouth curved slightly and he brought his fingers closer to his face and seemed to smell them. You gasped as Steve jostled your hand and Bucky poked out his tongue to drag it over your blood as it dripped his knuckles. His fingertips lingered on his lips and he pushed two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. He took a deep breath and his dusky eyes bore into you. You were stunned. Were you hallucinating from blood loss? It couldn’t be that bad.

You looked down and Steve checked beneath the tissues.

“Come on. We should head down to Med and get you some stitches,” Steve stood and drew you up with him. With your hand in one of his, he reached over and took your purse from the table. “Well, now you know not to play with knives.” Steve spun and pulled you along, “And you know not to let her.” He reproached Bucky.

“She’s fine. It’s shallow.” Bucky said, though his voice was thick and stunted.

“This time,” Steve rebuffed and kept, “Come on, sweetheart.”

“See ya later, I guess,” Bucky called after you.

“Later,” Steve said sharply without pause.

🩸

Steve didn’t stay mad for long, if he ever was. His worry often got the best of him. He even said it himself and apologized. He dealt with enough blood on the job, he didn’t need it at home. You agreed it was stupid but it wasn’t Bucky’s fault; it was just an accident. You promised, at least, to stick to kitchen knives.

You also made sure that Steve apologized to Bucky. You felt bad after you were all stitched up and thought of the defeat in his voice. Yet, you couldn’t shake the image of Bucky licking your blood from his fingers. You were sure you’d imagined it. You had to have. You had been in so much pain and it had all happened so fast…

You pushed the thoughts away. You were stupid. It didn’t happen. Bucky wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t.

A week passed. You didn’t see him again, even when you waited for Steve. Stark was hosting another event and the tower was in a frenzy. Steve was being awarded for his humanitarian work and while Tony didn’t like sharing the spotlight, his name would be mentioned enough to assuage his ego.

Saturday came and you enjoyed a quiet morning as Steve went over his speech and you got ready together. You were still unused to being attached to him at these events; the cameras made you tense and the strangers had you reaching for another wine glass. He made it easier though; he reassured you when in doubt and was able to easily sweep you away from any awkward situation. Steve wasn’t the just the world’s saviour, he was yours.

You arrived and followed Steve past the press. He stopped to say a few words and take some photos but didn’t tarry long.

“Come on,” he pulled you through the doors, “There’ll be enough pictures inside.”

“Ow,” you moaned as he grabbed your bandaged hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he hooked his arm through yours instead, “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Me either.” You laughed.

“You know, if you knew how to keep hold of a knife, you might actually be a worthy opponent.”

“Maybe,” you poked his arm, “You better hope I never learn how.”

He chuckled and guided you around the bodies around you. Again, he stopped for pictures and bulbs flashed as he stood against a curtain backdrop. He greeted those he knew and patiently smiled at the introductions of those he didn’t. You stayed close as he made certain to include you in each interaction. He never forgot about you and when formalities were over, he hugged your waist and sighed.

He led you to your assigned seats and you were happy to see familiar faces waiting for you, Nat, Wanda, Vision, Tony, and Pepper sat with drinks already half-gone as Bucky approached the table. You averted your eyes as he came to Steve and claimed the chair on his other side.

“How’s your hand?” Bucky asked as you sat.

“Healing,” you showed your bandage, “And your knife? It’s still in one piece?”

“I think it did a lot more damage on you,” he grinned and stared at you a moment before he turned to Steve, “Nervous yet?”

“Shut up, Buck,” Steve felt around his jacket and patted the cue cards hidden there.

“Oh come on, you’re always great,” Bucky scoffed.

“Compared to you? Easy.” Steve smirked.

“Hey,” Bucky elbowed him.

You reached for the glass of white wine and sipped. Natasha caught your attention as she asked about your dress and you lost yourself in a conversation about Wanda’s favourite soap.

Finally, the ceremony began as the tables quieted and Steve pulled your hand over onto his thigh as he squeezed it nervously. You ignored the pain it caused and leaned against him.

“You’ll be alright,” you whispered.

He smiled and turned to kiss your cheek. “How am I gonna think of anything but getting that dress off tonight?”

“Steve,” you uttered and rubbed his thumb with yours.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed and nuzzled your temple before he looked forward again.

You clung to his hand even as it made the bandage chafe against your stitches. You tried to listen but found yourself squirming. His words lingered and you felt giddy. It had been a few days; the two of you worn out from your jobs, your plans often ended in you falling asleep before they could come to fruition.

When Steve was called to accept his award, the crowd stood and you did too. As they applauded, you clapped the back of your hand with other. As Steve made his way to the stage, you felt a shift beside you. A warm scent rose in your nostrils, a subtle cologne, and you felt an arm brush against yours.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed as he stood close.

You looked over at him as he grinned, his eyes on the stage. You shook your head and turned back to watch Steve.

“You tasted delicious,” he muttered as he leaned closer. Your hands froze and he reached to touch the back of the bandage wound around it.

You bit down and didn’t dare look at him. You resumed your pathetic applause as Steve climbed onto the stage and Bucky clapped loudly beside you. As the audience quieted and sat, he reluctantly resumed his own seat, Steve’s empty chair between you.

You shivered as Steve stood behind the microphone. He bent his cue cards then peeked at them before he began to speak. You were distracted as you sensed something beside you. You peered over as Bucky’s fingertips tapped against his thigh.

His eyes caught yours and he bowed his head. You looked down again as he brushed his hand over his crotch and pushed his shoulders back. Your eyes flicked up to his face and he winked. You tore your gaze away as your ears buzzed and you could barely decipher Steve’s voice. It wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. And yet, that ache between your legs was even more persistent.

🩸

Steve’s hands were on you before you even closed the door. All night, he’d been sneaking touches; your arm, your hip, your ass. His eyes stuck to you now and then as he took in the praise of another admirer but you could tell, despite his nods, he wasn’t really in the moment.

You heard the lock click as he tugged at the back of your dress. You looked back at him and giggled.

“At least let me get these damn things off,” you looked at the strappy heels.

“Fuck your shoes,” he spun you to him and turned you against the slim table beside the shoe mat. “I’ve waited long enough.”

He lifted you onto the table and your shoulders hit the wall. You braced the edge as he pushed between your legs and crashed his lips into yours. Your cheeks burned and the sensation spread through your body as he crumpled your skirt in his fingers, pulling it further and further up your legs.

You grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pushed it down his shoulders. He rescinded his arms long enough to shed it and let it drop to the floor with a woosh. You yanked on his tie as you kept your mouth moving against his. He forced your skirt higher and you lifted your ass as the cool air brushed the thin fabric of your panties.

He purred and you squeezed him between your thighs. You fiddled with his belt until it came undone and quickly unzipped his fly. You rolled his pants down and hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his brief. You drew your hands to the front and pulled the top of his underwear down past his erection.

You stroked him and he gasped into your mouth. He threw his head back and shoved his hand between your legs. He pulled aside the crotch of your pants and slid his fingers along your folds. He teased you and cradled your face as he kissed you again. Your legs bent in anticipation.

You continued to tease his length as you moved closer to him. You guided him along your cunt as his fingers played with your clit. He smeared your arousal along his tip and you angled him against your entrance. He pushed into you, nearly taking you off the table as he gripped your chin and nibbled at your bottom lip.

He thrust as you teetered on the edge, his thumb pressed to your bud. You moaned and hung your head back. He hummed as his hand slipped down to your neck and his thick fingers spread over your throat. He held you firmly, as if he were tempted to squeeze as he rocked. You felt the pressure threaten for an instant and he let out a heavy breath. His hand fell to your chest and he fondled you as his hips kept a steady rhythm.

You arched your back and kept a hand on the table as you moved with him. He rubbed your clit as he pulled your dress down below your tits. He tweaked your nipple and buried his face in your neck. You panted as you bent your legs around him and welcomed him even deeper.

He grunted loudly through laboured breaths as the fabric of your clothing caught and clung between your bodies. You grasped the back of his neck as he plunged into you over and over. Your core thrummed and bumps rose along your skin. You whined as your orgasm blossomed and fell over you in a haze. Your eyes rolled back and you held onto Steve desperately as you longed for more.

He pushed you back until you were against the wall and snaked his hand under your leg. He pushed your knee up so that your foot was by his head and slammed into you. He pinned you and rutted with eager growls. Your lashes fluttered and you stared back at his fiery blue eyes. He watched you as you writhed and whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against yours and his hot breath surrounded you. He groaned and muffled his climax as it shook his body. He jerked into you sharply as he came and the table knocked the wall with each tilt of his hips. He kept on until he was breathless and you were splayed and tender around him.

He brought two fingers up under your chin and kissed you. His hand fell and he played with the loose strap of your dress as it sagged down your arm.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” He asked as he b`rushed his nose against yours.

“You think you’ll make it that far,” you murmured.

“We’ll get there,” he lifted you and kept you around him. “Eventually.”