#stucky office au

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (1)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Square filled for @stuckybingo Round 5: free space - mafia au

Square filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Free Space

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn't take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

Words: 1,5k

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Babe, how do I look?” Your boyfriend asks, almost stumbling over his words as the men he was hoping to meet at the fancy party walk inside the room. 

Well, they don’t walk like normal people. They are stepping inside the room, stopping in their tracks to look at the people in the room. It looks like the crowd parts like the Red Sea to form a path only for them.

Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. – Two names you must know if you ever heard of New York City and its mob.

They are as good-looking as they are dangerous. A deadly combination of beauty and the beast hidden behind blue eyes.

If you don’t want to end up six feet under, you don’t mess with them. Or even look their way too long.

“Did you put on the underwear I told you to?” 

“What has this to do with the party?” You sigh, as you still don’t know why Scott brought you here.

You’ve been dating for a few months, and you had hoped that tonight, he’d do more than the bare minimum. He’s not a bad guy, but an awful partner.

A criminal too. Not a criminal mastermind, but you already figured out that the small business he runs is far from legal.

“It’s important, babe,” you roll your eyes at the awful pet name. You hate it and told him so before. “Okay, don’t say anything stupid. Or, just look pretty and don’t say anything at all.”

“What?” Now you square your jaw. You don’t understand what has gotten into Scott until you lift your eyes off him to meet two pairs of blue ones. “Oh…”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes,” Scott looks pathetic when he bows for the heads of the mob in town. “I’m honored to meet you again. Thank you for having me.”

The men ignore Scott and his offered hand. Instead, they look at you. Steve almost shoves your boyfriend aside as he holds out his hand to take yours.

“I see you followed our invitation,” he lowers himself to press a kiss to the back of your hand. You shiver. He seems so polite, and kind. But behind his blue eyes, you can see the beast wanting to break free.

“Stevie don’t scare her off right away,” you are a little overwhelmed when James Barnes turns his attention toward you. He takes your other hand and kisses your knuckles, glancing at your ring finger. “No ring, doll? He didn’t ask you to be his forever?”

“No-“ You’re usually not shy, or meek. But these men crowd you like prey and have their hands on you. You know they are in a relationship, but right now, they look at you as if you are their latest meal. “We’re only dating for a few months.”

“A shame,” Steve cups your chin, making you whimper. You never felt like this before. Confused and aroused at the same time. These men are strangers, but oddly you feel safe in their presence. “What do you say? Shall we lead this to a more private area?”

You don’t know why they are interested in leading you and your boyfriend to a private area, but this can’t be good. People like them never have good intentions, and you assume Steve and Bucky are no exception.

“I’m good here…I mean. You should enjoy your party. Don’t you have to greet all the people you invited?” You nervously babble. 

“Doll, they don’t care if we greet them or not. They are only here to show respect to us,” Bucky runs his index finger up your arm. He smirks as you involuntarily shudder at his touch. “Let’s lead this to our office.”

“Scott,” you dip your head to glance at your boyfriend. He looks up at Steve as if the man is carrying a halo on top of his head. “Scott!”

“Babe don’t be rude. We should follow them to the office,” your boyfriend is no help. He’s wringing his hands while staring at Steve Rogers. God, he’s such a pathetic little boy. You just see it now when you watch him interact with two real men.

“Fine,” you snap at Scott if only to end his pathetic act. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, please lead the way.” 

“Do you want a drink or a canapé doll? We can ask the maid to get you something you’ll like,” Bucky sits next to you on the couch, one hand running up and down his thigh, the other creeping toward your thigh. He brushes his metal finger over your exposed skin, barely listening to what his partner has to say.

“Buck, did you listen?”

“Seal the deal,” the brunette clicks his tongue, “I’ll take care of the main act in the meantime. You know I don’t care about the conditions. We already negotiated them. You can take care of the details.”

“I want to take over more important tasks,” Scott suddenly says. He glances at you, and then he looks at Steve. “Sir, I agree on the terms. I’ll do anything to prove that you can trust me.”

“Does she agree on our terms too?” Steve dips his head to watch you stop Bucky’s hand from stroking your thigh. “Buck, we are talking here.”

“I know,” Bucky huffs. “All you do is talk to that slimy little bastard. Give him what he wants so we can get what we want.”

“Mr. Lang, you know that if we seal the deal, that you cannot break it. We have rules for a reason.”

“She will agree,” Scott hastily says. You snap your head toward your boyfriend, wondering what he’s talking about. “Right, Y/N? You’ll help me with the deal.”

“I told you that I’m not going to do anything illegal,” you hiss at Scott. “I looked the other way when you sold stolen phones to my colleagues, but I won’t actively help you. I’m not a criminal.”

“You didn’t talk about the deal with her?” Bucky suddenly jumps up to fist Scott’s jacket. “You dare to come to our house and lie to us?”

“I didn’t lie, Sir…Mr. Barnes. Y/N said she finds you hot, and all. She even talked about ending up between the two of you to her friend.”

“You sick fuck spied on me and Maria?” You growl at Scott. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes…I’m sure she’ll help you have a baby and all…”

“Baby what?” You furrow your brows. “Okay. This is getting ridiculous. What is going on here?”

“Well, we want you to become our surrogate. Bucky and I love each other dearly, but I cannot give him what he needs, nor can he give me what I want. A baby…an heir. We were looking for the perfect woman, with the perfect bloodline.”

“I-what?” The room suddenly caves in. You feel dizzy and grab the edge of the couch. “You want me to be your breeder?”

“No, doll,” Steve walks toward the couch to crouch down in front of you. “We want you to spend time with us…or rather between us.” He grins. “I want you to have my baby. And then you’ll have Bucky’s. We haven’t figured out whose allowed to breed you first.”

“Breed me?” Oh. God. Your pussy just clenched around nothing. If not for the anger taking over, you’d gladly jump Steve’s bones to have all the babies he wants. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not a piece of meat you can just buy!”

“We believed he talked about the deal with you, doll. Please, don’t be mad at us,” Steve purrs, and runs his hand over your cheek. “We only wanted what we deserve. The perfect woman having our babies.”

“She will agree…” Scott nervously says. He looks at you, hoping you’ll agree to whatever the two men holding his fate in their hands want. “Right babe?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” you jump up, and push Steve aside. “What did you believe will happen when you bring me here to offer my uterus and pussy to these two? Huh? That I’ll just bend over the desk and let them have their way with me!”

“I-uh…kinda…yes…”

“Pathetic,” you click your tongue as you glance at Bucky. He cracks his knuckles, ready to rough Scott up a little for messing with them. “I knew you were no good. I should’ve listened to my gut instinct.”

You dip your head to watch Steve walk toward his partner. They are looking at you, like lions ready to pounce. Those two men set their eyes on you, and you are not foolish enough to believe that they’ll leave you alone.

If you end up in their clutches, you’ll make sure they only get their hands on you to your conditions. “You want me and my womb?”

“More than anything,” Bucky purrs. He steps behind you to place both of his hands on your belly. “And I can tell, Stevie, and will love filling you up.”

Scott hopefully looks at you. This is the moment he was waiting for. He’ll be a made man soon, and his ex will see, he's more than the loser she sees in him. 

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Part 2

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬

Suspicion and lies often led to the brash decisions that ended empires, whether they were justified or proven false, it didn’t matter — what was said and done could never be taken back. It was how you developed such a keen sense for divulging the truth, and what else could you have done with such temptation being placed on a silver platter in front of you?

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♔ Closeted!Bodyguard!Stucky x Mafia!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♔ 3.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♔ Fluff, extreme sexual tension, implied smut, unconventional use of a knife (read: knifeplay), heated kissing, Bucky is possessive and a tease ჻჻჻ TROPES: Forbidden and Secret Relationship, Power Imbalances, Boss/Employee(s) ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, voyeurism

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ♔ Take note that I said Closeted!Stucky. ♔ I have no idea if this will turn into a consistent, prominent AU, but I still had a lot of fun writing it — we shall see.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ♔ HERE

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ♔ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Polyamory (January) — Masterlist ♔ @stuckybingo 𝗢𝟭 — Mob/Gangster AU —  Masterlist ♔ @anyfandomfluffbingo Ｎ４ — Coming Out —  Masterlist ♔ @mcukinkbingo Ｎ３ — Free Space —   Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The purr of the engine silenced itself as you turned the key, and the ringing sound in your ears fell quiet with it. You couldn’t be more grateful for the reprieve. 

After a day full of foolish encounters with bastardised older men who counted themselves among the elite — only for having the shining epitome of money around their wrists or padding their wallets so they would appear a few inches taller if they stood on top of it — grated you down to the last fibres of your tether, a dangerously threadbare and poised to snap, length of steel.

“I need a fucking drink,” you groused, frowning at the steering wheel.

To cap it all off, you were well beyond your tolerance for unspoken and mysterious tension within the ranks of your men, especially of two in particular. 

Before your last, dull meeting of the day, your phone chimed with an alert. It was a text from your favourite receptionist who gleefully told you that your two best men, Bucky and Steve, were awaiting you in your office. 

They closed the door behind them, too.

And if you were honest, the reply to your questioning on their demeanour describing them as nervous and fidgety, like two children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, made you smile wickedly. 

For years, Bucky and Steve were inseparable from one another within the ranks of your employed guard and associates. 

They both worked hard to surpass the others and prove themselves, and it landed them in the prime position of being your personal guard — a guard that was meant to be at your beck and call, though you weren’t so cruel as to deprive the supposed lovers of time on their own. 

Not when the thought of them alone made an unbearable heat simmer between your thighs and over your skin. 

“Right,” you sighed, steeling yourself for what you were soon to witness. The two of them were no doubt waiting impatiently for whatever they had to share, though you had an inkling it involved far more personal topics than that of logistics of weapons and plans. “Here goes nothing.” 

The walk through your opulent empire never failed to put a pep in your step when all of the people that rushed past inclined their heads in greeting or rushed over to greet you with nervous smiles and paperwork to sign — especially interns. Bless them, you thought, and you sent them on their way.  

It was only when the elevator chimed when it reached your floor did you truly focus on the thoughts that swirled over just what you would walk into. 

The sight of your favourite receptionist, who you fondly called Wands, sitting behind her sprawling desk with thinned lips in restraint was beyond amusing. Your shoes clicked over the gleaming marble while you made a beeline to her desk, arching a brow in question. “Care to tell the class, love?”

“Steve and Bucky are waiting for you but they looked nervous, even scared—I don’t know what they’re up to,” Wands rushed in one breath, her auburn hair swaying with the frantic movements of her hands. “They just asked me if you were in and I said you were otherwise engaged and I offered to call, they said yes, and then when you replied to tell them to let them in, I sent them in and–”

“Whoa, whoa, breathe, Wanda,” you soothed, and you shoved your laughter back down into your chest — a time and a place. “It’s okay, you did as I asked.” There was a hesitant pause where you tried to best work out how to word your next question.

“Miss–?”

You shook your head and barrelled on. “Can you tell me if they were… acting strangely?”

Wanda stared at you, blessedly confused, or utterly oblivious. “Strangely?”

“Yes,” you said simply, “Did they stare at one another as though the other hung the moon, or some shit.”

“Oh!” Nervous laughter made Wanda’s shoulders shake minutely. “Well, yes? I mean, their gazes were lingering–”

Bingo.

“–And I think as the door closed, they held hands? Maybe they thought I couldn’t see–?”

“That’s all I needed to know,” you said with a nod, and you threw her a sly smirk. “Take a break, love. I’ve got this—keep the phone off of the hook, I’m going to be otherwise engaged.”

Wanda blinked, hesitating for a moment, then she lifted the headset off her head and placed it on the desk before she took the phone off of the receiver. “Uh– Okay, alright. I’ll be around.”

You watched, amused, while Wanda walked away. The hesitant set of her steps gave away that she was still confused, but even she knew not to question a direct order guised under a simple request. Her slight figure disappeared behind the lift doors.

A deep, grounding breath made your shoulders rise and fall, and you turned to face your office doors. The double set of ornate barriers held many lethal secrets, but what it hid on this occasion made your mouth water with a sudden hunger. 

What lay behind those doors, you suspected, would forever change the dynamic that rooted you in place with your two best men — it excited you in a way you would have never expected. 

The simmer of anticipation grew to be unbearable. 

Each click of your shoes over the marble echoed off of the walls like a gunshot, only barely heard over the rush of blood in your ears. 

As you walked towards what lay in wait, you imagined what they could be doing behind those closed doors. 

Would you find them locked in an intimately close embrace, kissing like their lives depended on it? 

Or, and you prayed it was not the case, for you weren’t sure you would survive such a sight, would they be strewn over your overly large desk — one of them on his back while the other rode him like it was all he was made for. The sounds of their moans and whimpers echoed in your imagination, and for once, your steady, arrogant stride faltered. 

“Calm the fuck down,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. “Wait and see.”

The wooden surface of the double doors was cold against your cheek, but you pressed harder up against it, straining to discern any sound that would give away what the two of them were up to — whether you were about to witness an act between lovers, or whether they were truly not what they seemed. 

It was silent beyond the barrier. 

The cold metal of the door handle shocked you from the vivid reverie of what could be waiting for you — it was more than likely that they would hear the door opening and hasten to separate, if they were kissing. 

Slowly, and ever so carefully, you turned the handle and eased the door open, enough to allow a slither of the room to be visible. From your vantage point, you could see your desk and your high-backed chair behind the black, glossy surface of glass. 

A matching set of leather armchairs were placed side by side, opposite to your throne, and you could see the back of both Steve and Bucky’s heads from their positioning — their heads were turned to face one another, lips moving in a hushed conversation. 

Bucky’s face looked pained from the taut line of his brows and the deep-set frown on his lips, the gesticulation of his hands gave away that he was wanting something, and the longer you watched, the more you realised he was gesturing for Steve to move closer. 

The blond seemed hesitant to move from his seat. 

You didn’t move or open the door further — content to watch whatever was happening unfold. 

The suspicions grew within you the longer you stared; Steve’s hands were gripping the side of the leather seat with white knuckled restraint; Bucky was nearly on his feet in his desperation for Steve to come closer.

Your tongue darted from your mouth to lick your lips, and you were about to announce your arrival, when it happened. The barely stifled gasp of surprise that fell from your lips only went unnoticed due to Bucky’s chair being shoved back and toppling to the floor as he surged to his feet. 

Steve made to move as well, but Bucky was too fast — he stalked towards Steve and pulled him up by the lapels of his suit jacket, and he snarled something in his face, expression twisted with a wounded hunger. 

“I said I didn’t fucking care, Stevie,” Bucky growled, his voice raspy with barely tempered anger. The way Bucky stared into Steve’s eyes ignited a heat unlike anything you’d felt before between your thighs — it was something animalistic, primal in the urge to consume someone whole. “I fucking want you—no one else,” he insisted, inching closer. “You’re it for me, for fucks sake! What do I have to do to make you see and give up this damned charade?”

Any reply Steve had to utter was lost to the wind as Bucky kissed him, his lips seeking the others like his life depended on it. The muffled squeak of surprise escaped Steve’s parted lips before he kissed back in earnest, forcing the brunette backwards against your desk with enough force to rattle the piece of furniture. 

Pen cups and plant pots clattered and rolled onto the floor.

They paid no mind to any of it, too lost within one another to see you open the door wider and slip inside. The small click of the lock didn’t even deter them — you watched, entranced, while they fought each other for dominance with growls and low moans. 

Bucky bared his teeth when Steve nipped his lower lip. “Fuck.” Metal fingers threaded through golden locks, and he gripped the back of Steve’s head. “That’s it,” he cooed, and he pulled Steve’s head back to better access the smooth skin of his neck. “That’s more like it, baby.”

A honeyed whine tumbled from Steve’s parted lips. “Buck–”

“Shh,” Bucky soothed, running the palm of his metal hand over the back of Steve’s head. “Just kiss me.”

You leaned back against the cool wood of your office door with a heavy breath. A devilish smile danced over your lips and pulled them taut as Steve launched himself forward with a growl, almost forcing Bucky all the way over to the other side of your desk. “Need you now–”

“I know,” Bucky soothed against Steve’s lips, and he grinned. “And you can have me, kitten.”

The groan that echoed off of the walls of your office was pornographic in nature — the lack of cameras truly a crime. 

Callused, deft hands never settled over any part of their bodies; the brush of fingers and palms over their sides and over frantically bared skin — the leather jacket Bucky wore was thrown with little care, landing at your feet with a solid thunk. 

The dark holsters over Bucky’s chest were plainly visible now. The glint of his trusted Gerber blade was bright against the black cotton shirt he wore, and the pair of Glocks fastened to his belt skimmed against the surface of your desk. 

That same blade whirled and glinted in the air, Bucky’s right hand holding the handle of such a deadly blade with ease. “Fuck, fuck,” Bucky rasped, “Hang on.” He placed his left hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushed him back a pace. The glass squeaked with the slide of Bucky’s legs over the edge, and he stood, barely taller than his partner. 

“Wha–?”

The beautiful sound of Steve’s moan while Bucky sliced open his shirt with the sharp edge of his Gerber made your toes curl; a glint of deranged lust in Bucky’s eyes as he holstered it on his hip only worsening it. Steve’s shirt wrinkled in his fists while metal plates whirred in calibration. “Kiss me harder, fucker.”

Steve chuckled breathily and instead of going for Bucky’s mouth, his lips found Bucky’s neck, and going by Bucky’s moan, it was going to heat up far too quickly for you to enjoy this particular show. 

Before you could talk sense into yourself, you pushed off of the door with a flourish and predatory smirk, stepping heavily to allow the heels of your shoes click over the floor. The two of them pulled apart as though they’d been burned — horror coloured their expressions, while what little blood that reddened their cheeks drained from their faces in tandem. 

“Well, well, well,” you purred, still smiling victoriously. “What have we here, boys?”

“We can explain–” Steve rushed, but you cut him off with a heated stare. The words faltered on his lips, and he fell silent. 

Bucky stood there in apparent shock, still leaning hard against your desk and speechless while he stared at you with widened eyes. His knuckles were white from the grip of his fingers over the edge of the blackened glass of your desk — there was no verbal defence from him, though you sensed the surge of protective anger in his posturing frame. 

From your stance as an outsider and their employer, you could tell they were identically and rightfully fear striken — to be outed within the industry was a risky move — though you felt more than vindicated with your suspicions confirmed, and you couldn’t help but feel the pull of their connection. It looped you in its trap, cinching you tight, and you let it guide your words and actions. 

It was with a sense of fragility that you looked at them both, a small, soft smile replacing the wide smirk on your lips. “Don’t stop on my account,” you said, and you gestured to the drink cart next to your desk. “I knew something was going on between the two of you—I made it a game to figure out what it was, and here we are.” 

There was silence as they glanced at one another, your proclamation had taken them by surprise, you guessed. “For clarity’s sake, you’re not fired,” you explained. “Quite the opposite.”

“Which means?” Bucky snapped, watching your every move like a wounded animal preparing to savagely protect itself. 

“Take a seat, boys.” Bucky’s unanswered question hung in the air while Steve sat down. You looked up from the drink cart and found Bucky still standing tall, inclined slightly over Steve’s sitting frame as though to shield him from a barrage of imagined vitriol. “I said have a seat,” you repeated, offering them both a glass of whiskey. “Let’s talk.”

Bucky grudgingly took both glasses and handed one to Steve, before he sat down in his previously occupied chair. Their identical postures and rigid shoulders radiated trepidation. 

You couldn’t help but smirk while your back was turned momentarily to move the cart away from the desk — lest they lose their cool and poorly tested restraint to attack one another again. 

Once you turned to face them, you smiled and settled in your own high-backed leather chair. The silence crackled with a tension akin to the riskiest meetings you attended for your under bellied organisation, and you cleared your throat. “Why don’t we start with you telling me just how long my two best men have been tongue-fucking one another in secret—let alone in my office.”

Steve choked on his mouthful of whiskey while Bucky narrowed his eyes. “And why the fuck do you want to know?”

“Well,” you replied smoothly, blithely leaving his tone unchecked. “I seem to be in a bit of a predicament, boys.” 

They didn’t reply to your statement; suspicions too high to allow rationality. You looked at them over the rim of your own glass, taking in how Steve seemed to make himself impossibly smaller. 

A moment of tense silence passed, and you sighed heavily. Feigned interrogation tactics would either help you win or lose this battle of secrets — it was risky, they were your best men for a reason, they knew you were playing a game, but they had no way to know of your endgame. Possibilities of it, sure, but you were willing to gamble on your good standing relationship with them — a show of good faith was an extended olive branch. 

You took a deep breath and shifted in your seat. A wicked, sinful idea came to the forefront of your mind with the throbbing ache between your thighs. “My predicament, boys,” you said, careful to keep your voice quiet. “Is that what I walked into just now has left me soaked, and I have no way to take care of it—it is business hours. I also have the damned rule of not fucking any of my employees, one that you two are pushing to the breaking point.”

Their combined reaction teased a smile to your lips. Bucky’s eyes bulged, and he coughed around a sharp intake of breath; Steve sat as still as stone while he stared at you in bewilderment. The hilarity of such a response amused you — you had caught them close to fucking each other on your very desk, for fuck’s sake.

“So,” you said loudly over the lasting coughs from the brunette. “We can either pretend this never happened and we go on with our days, after I address what you were in here for in the first place.” 

“It was just–” Bucky tried, but you held your hand up to halt his explanation. 

“Or I let the two of you off the hook and let you make a mess of my office.” They blinked, and you took a sip from your drink. It made a quiet clink against the glass when you set it back down, louder than a bullet from Bucky’s Glock in the stunned silence. “And I join in.”

That same hunger flashed in both of their eyes this time — Steve’s ocean blue turned black, Bucky’s cerulean to grey, a mesmerising transformation that unwittingly pinned you in place. Your mouth watered with the hunger to feel them and their expert touch, and you slumped back against your chair with a brow raised in question. “So, tell me—what will it be, boys?”

Bucky looked to Steve; Steve looked to Bucky. They communicated silently, something untold in their eyes. 

In mesmerising unison, they stood from their armchairs and rounded your desk. The thundering of your heart could be heard within the sudden cavernous walls of your office. “I think we can make that happen,” Bucky purred, his forefinger and thumb tilting your head up as he sat back against the edge of your desk. “What d’ya think, Stevie?”

“Why the fuck not,” Steve whispered, sitting on your other side. His thigh brushed yours. 

“Oh, fuck yes,” you sighed, the grin on your lips purely predatory — a well-deserved victory against the unknown. 

Steve’s breath hitched and he surged forward to claim the exposed skin of your arched neck. Your fingers wound through the blond tresses like Bucky had done. “Good, fuck– Good boy, kitten.”

Through heavily lidded eyes, you looked up at Bucky and your lips parted around the words, “Come here, puppy—come on and fuck me.”

The only sounds that followed your command would be left only between the walls of your office, and if you smirked with sinful experience every time you thought of the both of them, or caught them standing too close to one another after that encounter, they winked covertly back. 

You couldn’t wait for next time.

yeah, I'm dead too.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[buckys-little-belle]

Mafia Au (Part Three)

Mr.R

Mafia!Stucky x Little!Reader (They/Them pronouns used)

Warnings - Sad reader, crying, eating of goldfish, mentions of 'stalking', just the boys being fluffy

Notes - IDK if I like this one, it's gone through a few re-writes, but I'm putting off other writting and my ADHD took that as a cue to get back on this instead, so I hope you enjoy!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

+ + + + + +

“Boss!” A loud voice boomed, Steve and Bucky both waking up with a start, their necks strained. “Boss!” The voice called again, though this time closer. “Boss!” 

“Wha’s going on?” Y/n mumbled, sitting up slightly. 

“I don’t know yet, Little Dove.” Bucky turned to them, Steve standing up to address whoever woke them. 

“Boss!” 

“Peter! Do not repeat yourself.” Steve said sternly as he opened the bedroom’s door, a weary Peter on the other side. “Have you ever heard of a phone call?” 

“I have.” He said timidly. “Which is why I called you twenty three times before barging in.” His words got more confident as he continued. 

“Right.” Steve sighed, his phone in his room, Bucky’s too. “Okay. Okay, what’s going on then?” Steve asked, his hands whipping down his face, trying to get rid of his tired expression.

“It’s about, about, you know.” Peter tried to keep the conversation light in front of Y/n. 

“No Pete, we don’t know.” Bucky chimed in, turning the corner, Y/n in hand. 

“It’s about R U M L O W.” He spelled the name out. 

“Oh! R U M L O W that’s how you spell our last name woop woop!” Y/n sang a little jingle and did a little shimmy, Bucky smiling at them, as Steve looked to Pete with anger in his eyes. 

“Very good little dove.” Bucky cooed, swinging their hand a little. 

“Why don’t we take this to an office?” Steve asked Peter, his arm gesturing for them to leave the room, Y/n frowning as she saw the two begin to leave. 

“Wai’ Steve!” Y/n called out unexpectedly. “Don’ wan’ you t’leave me!” They broke free of Bucky’s grasp, rushing to Steve instead. 

“We have to go talk business, My Dove.” He softly smiled, bending down slightly to give them a forehead kiss. 

“Righ’.” They frowned and let go of him, walking back to bed without another word. 

Bucky and Steve both watched confused, Y/n’s shoulders curled in slightly, yet no crying or protesting in sight. “We’ll meet you in my office, Pete.” Bucky cut in. “Close the door Steve.” He said as the boy walked away, the two men realized that something was definitely wrong. “Dove?” Bucky questioned, him and steve both standing in the archway, Y/n curled up in bed, a stuffie in hand. 

“Is th’ business over?” They asked hopefully, perking up slightly. 

“Not yet.” 

“‘kay, I promise I’ll wait really good.” Y/n nodded their head, curling up even tighter. 

“You don’t have to stay in bed, Dove.” Bucky shook his head, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him, something that seemed to happen too often. 

“Yes I do.” They said, confusion lacing their words. “‘Babies stay in bed while the big boys talk’” They recited in a monotone voice. 

“Buck, I can’t.” Steve whispered, unable to stay calm, Bucky nodding his head knowingly, taking control of the situation instead of it being a joint effort. 

“I didn’t think you would want to sit in a business meeting, Dovey.” Bucky admitted. “We don’t have any toys in our offices yet.” 

“I don’ wan’ toys, jus’ wan’ yous.” Y/n teared up. “‘m jus’ scared.” A sob broke through. “I don’ know the house, or anyone here, an’ I jus’ ‘m really scared, and I wan’ go home.” 

Steve couldn’t help himself, he climbed into Y/n’s bed and scooped them up sitting them in his lap, their head in his neck as tears fell down their cheeks, little hiccups could be heard. “You can’t go home, Little Dove, It’s not safe.” Steve said, his words soft and comforting. “Why don’t you sit with us in our meeting? And then after breakfast we can go to that little toy store you used to pass.” He offered, knowing that maybe adding some more of their past life into their day to day could help the sudden transition. 

“Really?” They pulled back, whipping their tears with their hands, hope splashed across their face. 

“Pinky promise.” Steve smiled, the two sealing the deal. “But let’s find you a sweater, it’s cold upstairs.” He stood up, Y/n in his arms. 

“‘Buck, I can’t’” Bucky teased under his breath as the two walked past him. 

+

The sight was yet again one that the Mafia bosses usually wouldn’t have been found in before today, Y/n sat on Steve’s lap, green sippy cup in hand, Bucky next to them holding a bag of goldfish, handing a few to Y/n here and there, and sneaking a few for himself. “Hi Peter!” Y/n whispered, waving to the familiar face. 

“Hi.” He whispered back, already loving the addition to the group. 

“Pete.” Steve’s voice was loud, everyone in the room listening intently the moment he spoke. “What’s going on?” 

“Right, right.” Pete was fidgeting slightly, hating being the one to break the news. “Well, Mr.R was seen on the property’s cameras last night.” 

“What?” Bucky sat up straight, Y/n looking to him, worry in their eyes at his sudden moves, though the conversation was going straight over their head. 

“He was seen taking pictures of both the front, and back of the house.” Sam finally cut in, handing a few photos to Bucky, who showed them to Steve, the man’s hand covering Y/n’s eyes as he looked them over, Y/n’s giggle at least lightning the mood. “We’ve upped the security, both inside, and outside the house, plus there are extra men posted in our territory, we made sure to call anyone we could to keep.” He cleared his throat. “To keep the bird safe.” His words hiding the true meaning. ‘To keep your new found little, who was and is in need of a safe place to live, unharmed from their brother.’ 

“Thank you, Sam.” Steve nodded, knowing he was right to appoint Sam as head of security, his skills clearly proven to be efficient and helpful, even though they are the result of a hiccup. 

“I suggest you three go up to the lake house, no one knows where it is, you can let the bird settle in without a bunch of our men watching their every move.” Sam added, his words quiet knowing that the suggestion was the opposite of what Steve and Bucky wanted. Dove was supposed to be able to grow comfortable with them in their forever home, with the newly made bedroom, surrounded by every day life, and yet a bump in the road made all of those things almost impossible. 

“Thanks Sam.” Bucky said clearly agitated. 

“Anything else, Pete?” Steve asked, hoping to change the subject to something more hopeful, and to stop the insanely petty staring contest both Bucky and Sam were participating in. 

“Nope, nothing else.” Peter smiled, though he hoped to be allowed to go soon, the conversation stressful and boring. 

“Everyone’s dismissed.” Bucky said in return, a handful of goldfish outstretched to Y/n, them picking a few goldfish up, waving as everyone left the room. “How are you feeling, Little Dove?”

“‘m fine.” They answered, looking back and forth at the two men. “We go to the toys now?” 

Steve sighed, looking to Bucky before speaking. “We’ve got to eat breakfast now.” He convinced himself it wasn’t a lie, he was just withholding the truth a little. 

“We did!” Y/n giggled, holding their hand up to Steve, a few goldfish left. 

“Crackers aren’t breakfast!” Bucky said in a dramatically silly tone, Y/n placing their hand on his head as they nodded. 

“Yes, i’s breakfast!” 

“We’re going to have some waffles, Dove.” Steve interrupted, a smile plastered on his face at the image, two people he loved being silly with one another, something he would get to see for the rest of his life. 

“Wha’s a waffle?” They asked, puppy eyes out, mouth open in excitement. 

“It’s like a pancake with little walls for your syrup.” Bucky explained. 

“What’s a pancake then?” 

“Dove.” Steve said in a more authoritative tone, wishing the silliness away. 

“What?” They asked. “I don’, why’s you mad?” They asked, hands in their lap fumbling with their fingers. 

“Dove, look at me.” Bucky asked. “Have you ever had a pancake?” He spoke with a genuine tone, Y/n shaking their head ‘no’ in response. “Okay, that’s okay.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, his chest suddenly heavy, realizing that maybe his Dove really did think crackers were for breakfast. “I think you’ll really like them.” Bucky picked Y/n up from Steve’s arms. 

“I’ll be down in a second, I have some things I need to do.” Steve was clearly seething, about to do something regarding someone all three of them knew, Y/n all too well. 

“Don’t do anything rash, Steve, just take a few breaths.” Bucky tried to sooth him, rubbing circles on Y/n’s back to keep them calm too. 

“I should have been rash months ago, Buck, I can’t just sit here and pretend like this guy hasn’t ruined people's lives.” Steve was on his phone, no doubt calling in backup for whatever plan he had coming. 

“Does Steve’s rash hurt bad?” Y/n whispered to Bucky, him smiling at their words, reveling in the softness they exuded, and the pure kindness that radiated off of them. 

“It does, Dovey, but he’s going to fix it.” He walked out of the office, Y/n snuggling closer. 

“Good.” They whispered.

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[bulkyphrase]

Identity Porn Rec List

Some of my favorite fics that deal with the difficulties and complications of having a secret identity.

Identity porn is a mainstay of Stony fic, but there are also some gems from Stucky, SamSteve, and whatever the ship name for Steve/Matt Murdock is.

given you a number, taken away your name by janonny (@awesomelifechoices) (Stony, General Audiences, 4,520 words)

Summary: As Tony behaves more erratically, S.H.I.E.L.D. sends in Steve as an undercover agent in S.I. to be Natasha’s back-up. Except Steve is really, really not cut out for this undercover business. - Before the lift’s doors closed, Stark suddenly grinned and said, “Call me Tony. Have a better rest of the day, big guy.” Awkwardly, Steve lifted his free hand and waved as the doors slid shut between them. What...what was he doing? Why was he waving? Steve hurriedly put his hand down and turned around sharply.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by writeonclara (@writeonclara) (Stucky, General Audiences, 21,570 words)

Summary: “I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier. Also available as a podfic read by Akaihyou (@akaihyou)

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 62,917 words)

Summary: Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD. This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man. Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Also available as a podfic read by badfinch (@read-by-badfinch)

More below the cut!

Love Is A Masquerade by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Mature, 12,010 words)

Summary: *loudspeaker noise* Please present your tickets here for your trip on the Steve/Tony Fantasy Trope Land express. On your left we have Masquerade Balls and Identity Porn; on the right we have Steve's Thirst for Iron Man's Thighs and Dramatic Balcony Kissing. Please keep your arms and legs within the ride at all times, thank you. Also featuring Classic Iron Man armor, Identity-Porn-Without-Porn, and Boys-In-Tights. You will need to leave your expectations for plot at the entrance to the fic; be kind and please pick up your trash before you go. Look, it's unrepentant fluff and crack, don't look at me like that, you're the one still reading this summary. [aka] When the Avengers are invited to attend Tony Stark's Annual Masquerade Ball, Steve's hoping Iron Man will be there--after all, he can wear a mask and keep his identity secret. So when Steve recognizes Iron Man's distinctive thighs, Steve is SO sure he's found Iron Man's pilot... He's right, but not in a way Steve would ever have guessed... Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)

Masked and Anonymous by panickyintheuk (@shiningredandgold) (Stony, Explicit, 4,236 words)

Summary: "When Mr. Stark opened the door, he had his shirt untucked, and no shoes on. It was evening, and it was his own apartment, and Steve was dropping by unannounced, so that was all really fair enough, but it was also the least put-together Steve had ever seen him." Steve drops in on Avengers benefactor Mr. Stark, but it seems that Mr. Stark was expecting him.

Not Just Anybody (Help) by kototyph (Samsteve, Teen And Up Audiences, 9,349 words)

Summary: Sam meets a homeless veteran with a famous name.

Straight on till Morning by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Explicit, 109,848 words)

Summary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything. Also available as a podfic read by M_Samro (@msamro)

Super Villain Dating Tips - Or How Steve Won Over Tony Through The Art of Kidnapping by forgetmenotjimmy (Stony, General Audiences, 46,265 words)

Summary: Steve isn't evil, he's just trying to do the right thing whilst hiding from an insane General who's out for his blood - literally - but when he is forced to kidnap Tony to help him escape the cops, his plans to take down the Secret Division that experimented on him, well, they get put on the back burner. How does a villain date a hero? More kidnapping of course!

The Blind Leading by SkyisGray (Stucky, Explicit, 43,034 words)

Summary: Steve is specifically told not to fraternize with the independently contracted Winter Soldier.

The Corruption of Captain America by the Villain Tony Stark by ladililn (@ladililn) (Stony, Explicit, 50,344 words (WIP))

Summary: Iron Man paused. “Oh my god. You thought I was a robot.” “No, I—” Steve felt his face flushing. “I…considered the possibility,” he admitted. “You thought I was a robot who’s been hitting on you.” “Is that really so crazy?” Steve felt an inexplicable need to defend himself. “In the forties, I fought a Nazi with a skull for a head.”

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 35,216 words)

Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

To Make Much of Time by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 16,114 words)

Summary: When Iron Man rejects Steve's romantic advances, Steve is disappointed, but of course he understands -- Iron Man's secret identity is important. But when a portal opens and Tony Stark crashes into their midst from twelve years in the future, Steve starts to suspect that there are more secrets here than he can even begin to comprehend, and neither Iron Man nor Tony are providing any answers. Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)

What Lies Behind by kdm103020, xinsomniac1101x (@kdm103020, with art by @xinsomniac1101x) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 63,364 words)

Summary: Four months after the Battle of New York, Steve Rogers still hasn't managed to find his footing. The new century is strange and upsetting, and he appears to have no purpose in it. But when SHIELD sends him to liaise with the director of Stark Industries, his life starts to change in ways he could never imagine. Or, the MCU-rooted AU, in which Steve and Tony both still maintain their secret identities.

with liberty and justice for all by ria_green (Matt Murdock/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 14,020 words)

Summary: Steve and Matt's relationship is basically a romantic comedy. Except for one minor complication - they're both hiding their superhero/vigilante identities from each other.

[steevbuckk]

FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 56/100

Coming Up Easy by @musette22

[Modern AU, 45 515 words, Explicit]

Summary:

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

more fics

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION: VOODOO WEIGHT GAIN. Anything that happens to the voodoo doll, happens to the person it's moulded after. You stuff the doll with more fluff, and the person's belly grows. You dunk the doll in beer or a glass of wine, it soaks into the fabric and the person gets wasted. You rub at the doll's privates, and you hear startled moaning from the other room. I don't know, I just saw the idea on DeviantArt and I think that it has a lot of potential..

*Note: I, the author of this silly, kinky, little Tumblr fic, am white. And because of the past association between white people saying “voodoo” and cruelty towards people of color, I will not be using the term “voodoo doll.” I know nothing good or bad was necessarily meant by your ask, grey-faced anon user 😊, but I just don’t want to use that! So I’m going to say magic doll 🤷🏻‍♂️*

I FUCKING LOVE THIS IDEA.

JESUS CHRIST.

I AM SO FUCKING HERE FOR THIS.

Immediately, immediately, when you sent this to me I had a whole fucking AU in my head. This idea gives rich-man-Rogers and house-husband-boy-toy-Bucky…

Warning for unbeta'd stucky belly kink. Mostly rapid and magical weight gain, some vague dubious concent vibes but not really, etc.

I am picturing the full fantasy.

Steve is rich as fuck and is the CEO of his successful company. Whatever that is, it’s not important. What is important is that Steve is older than Bucky and is taller and bigger than him, too. Bucky is younger and twinkier. He’s sweet and needy *cough* slutty *cough*. Steve has needs too, though. Needs that are a special kind and can’t be met by just anyone, so rather than sorting through the whole fucking mess that is dating and sparking a new romance… he turns to hire someone who he can take his needs out on. A sex worker.

Steve hires a sex worker.

Specifically, Steve hires Bucky, striking up an exclusive contract with him. He wants Bucky to live with him, he wants Bucky to be ready for use at any time he needs him, and he wants Bucky to - within his limits - give into all of Steve’s dirtiest fantasies.

One of these fantasies is having a boy at home who is at his every beck and call, and who is totally, completely spoiled. Not bratty, but spoiled.

And Steve wants the evidence of Bucky’s spoiling to be on full display. He wants his houseboy - his toy - to be soft. Pale skin completely bare. Waxed, not shaved. Skin lotioned extensively. Soft. Clothed in the finest silk and lace and the like. Manners perfect. Not all skin and bones, not all bulky muscle, but fat and padded as if he’s never had to work a day in his life and is instead doughy and excessive. Always sitting on his comfortable, cushy backside.

Yeah… 🫦

Steve has specific tastes.

But Steve also has more than enough money to acquire said specific tastes. He has so much money, in fact, that he can afford to commission a small, hand-sewn, delicate doll from one of Natasha’s highest-recommended contacts. Said contact is secretive, illusive, and extensively expensive, but she agrees to Steve’s wants immediately, claiming she has just the thing and he doesn’t need to keep explaining, so… Steve has no complaints.

Steve has no complaints whatsoever, reclining in his desk chair with his belt and slacks undone, dick out, at his heavy wooden desk in his private office at work, the top floor, his solid wood door locked, with his personal secretary blocking all of his calls. On his otherwise spotless desk, there are two things: one is his laptop, and the other is a pile of fiber fill stuffing. In one hand he’s holding that little magic doll. Meanwhile, Steve’s other hand is poised to pack some of that stuffing into the doll’s body. But Steve isn’t looking at the doll, nor at the pile of awaiting stuffing, he’s looking at his laptop. The thing that is so interesting on his laptop is Bucky.

In perfect, crystal-clear quality the security camera feed from his penthouse is sprawled across the big screen. The penthouse he’s sharing with his contracted boy toy.

Bucky.

He’s been watching Bucky wander around, cleaning (Steve would prefer if he didn’t, he really does want Bucky helpless and spoiled, but he knows the younger man would go stir crazy if he didn’t have something to do, so he allows it), just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And…

Now is good, right?

Yeah.

Now is good.

So, Steve pushes a big, thick wad of stuffing into the doll and watches, dick jerking, as Bucky’s silence is interrupted by a cacophony of noise - all at once, his boy toy’s sweatpants rip to shreds and his toy lets out a sound that’s half-whimper, half-moan. He’s totally startled by the sudden woomph of his ass tripling, maybe even quadrupling, in size. Bucky is so blatantly confused that he ends up stumbling forward, nearly falling over but catching himself barely. With the flurry of movement, his ass jiggles.

Oh, Lord, Steve groans.

Big and fat.

Perfectly fat.

Bucky’s ass is unreal. It was before, firm and round, but now it is impossibly unreal. There’s no texture of dimpling cellulite and no striped stretch marks over the delicious surface of Bucky’s suddenly exposed ass. It’s perfect. Untouched. Unmarred. Only fat.

Bucky looks, well, Steve has started gnawing on his lower lip without realizing it, drawing blood already, so, it’s easy to say that he looks edible. Such a big ass on the most perfect, good-est boy. And Bucky is such a good boy that when he recovers, whimpering, after a brief, pornographic moment of groping himself, squeezing handfuls of fat where it’s mounding up behind him and twisting sharply around to try and investigate what has happened to his body, he just… goes on.

He keeps cleaning.

Steve is floored.

Oh, this is going to be so, so much more fun than he thought.

Bucky keeps cleaning as if nothing happened.

The only difference is now, Bucky is trying to stifle his precious little whines and he keeps sucking in sharp breaths like he’s embarrassed to let it show that he likes his shiny, new thick ass despite, to his knowledge, being completely alone. Unobserved.

Steve makes a whine of his own, a bitten-off, growling whine, but a whine nevertheless, when Bucky pauses cleaning to arch his back like he’s testing out how it might feel to get fucked with such a fat ass - like having such a big, heavy ass makes him feel sexy and he can’t help it. Immediately, Steve wants to make it better. He wants to make it worse. 😈 He wants to stuff as much stuffing as he can fit into the little doll’s chest to pack Bucky’s tits full of soft, malleable fat. If his boy likes how it feels to have fat, thick curves in the “right” places, then he’s going to give it to him. And then he’s going to ruin it by adding fat to the “wrong” places, too. He’s going to fatten him up. He’s going to make him huge with no effort at all.

Maybe he shouldn’t just give Bucky a taste of what it’s like to be curvy and sexy in a traditionally feminine way, all ass and tits, maybe he should pack him full of stuffing right this second, and see what he does, see how he preens and arches his back and touches himself, see how he spends his day alone, unknowing that Steve is peeping in on him, watching him get off to excess. Despite the dangerous pull... Steve doesn’t. Steve has self-control. Sometimes.

So. He lets it drag on…

He lets Bucky enjoy his fat ass for close to an hour. He simply watches, drooling and passively jerking off, as Bucky waddles around the penthouse, his ass wobbling and jiggling as he walks. His footsteps are much heavier than normal under the weight of his monstrous ass.

Bucky has removed his ruined sweatpants, but he hasn’t taken off his shirt. It should look silly. It doesn’t. It’s sexy as hell. Steve’s going to make him tear his way out of that shirt, too. He’s going to watch it be ripped to shreds. 😮‍💨

With another wave of lust, Steve decides he’s done waiting and he launches into action. He stuffs the doll again, focusing on a new, irresistible part of Bucky’s body that he wants to make even more irresistible by swelling him.

And instantly, with the doll stuffed, Bucky balloons.

His thighs, this time, widen with another sudden whoomph of magic.

His now colossal thighs match his ass delightfully. Thick and perfect. Doughy blubber that has to weigh too much for Steve to lift, despite his extensive gym routine.

Bucky moans outright this time. He’s less confused, too. He just accepts it. This is him now. The perfect, moldable toy. Adaptive and dumb.

Perfect.

He takes to the new fat packed onto his frame like a fish takes to water. Although… he’s nowhere near as physically graceful as that metaphor, Steve is talking purely about how Bucky reacts emotionally to seeing himself swell like a mound of dough left in the oven to proof overnight. Expanding. Bucky can hardly seem to walk now. His lower half is so puffy, so swollen that he’s waddling. Swaggering. Wobbling. All that fat moves captivatingly, jiggling in slow, swollen waves like the ocean after an intense storm. And because Bucky can’t walk anymore, Bucky plops down onto the nearby sofa. So heavy and overgrown that Steve’s expensive, expensive couch lets out a loud creak. Bucky swears, sounding panicked, but not too panicked to get up again and not too panicked to not start touching himself again.

His hands first make contact with his fat ass, squeezing inches of padding between his thumb and fingers at the sides of his body where his ass spills out away his hip flexors.

Steve feels a little faint. He feels more faint when Bucky scoots his thighs apart, setting them wider with a heavy, bothered sigh - they’re not only so fat that he can’t walk, they’re so fat that it’s hard to move.

Christ.

Bucky and this little doll are the best things that Steve has ever paid for. He swears. Then, Bucky moans, drawing his attention back to him and away from his money, the needy, little big minx.

Steve wants to give Bucky everything.

Steve takes the biggest ball of stuffing this far and packs it into the doll’s belly until its seams creak.

The force of the sudden fat being added to Bucky’s poor frame is so intense, whoomph, that Bucky is thrown back against the sofa. His head is thrown back too, eyes rolling to the back of his head, neck arched attractively, mouth hanging open, sweat appearing on his skin all at once. His skin. Oh, God, Steve growls to himself, he’s so fucking delighted that he’s recording all of this footage because he’s going to spend the rest of his life sneaking away into whatever nearby bathroom or closest or bedroom or wherever he can to replay the way Bucky’s shirt bursts off him, getting off to it.

The sound of the seams ripping, popping, and fabric shredding mixing orgasmically with Bucky’s cry of pleasure. Filled more than he could’ve ever dreamed of. Made so impossibly round that he’s stuck to the creaking, overburdened couch.

His gut fills all of the space in front of him.

The surface is taut like a drum and as round as a globe. Totally unmarred. No stretch marks, no bruises, not even the flush of skin struggling to contain so much blubber. He looks incredible. Mouth-watering. Pale. Fat. He’s rising like dough. And there’s only one thing left to do…

Steve stuffs his tits too, watching the way Bucky squirms, the way he writhes on the expensive, luxury couch as if he’s orgasming on the spot. So filled that he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hold anything in. He can’t keep himself from screaming. He can’t stop himself from coming. A blimp. A fat, excessive blimp sitting on top of a monstrous, thick ass and immense thighs with a belly that stretches out past his fat knees, so big and round that it shoves equally over-fattened tits up to his face, leaving him choking on them. He is overripe. Moaning with abandon, lost in the throws of pleasure from being so thoroughly gorged.

Swollen.

Filled.

(Here's part two)

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Epic Stucky Fic Rec | February, March & April 2023

I'm alive! 😅 I started making a fic rec for February and March in the beginning of April and then I completely forgot about it... and then by the time I remembered, April was almost done so I figured I'd wait 😆

Should I make a new banner? yes. Will I? Maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Complete

��� Additional Information series by notlucy/ @notlucy (Modern AU, Coworkers, Sugard Daddy/Daddy Kink, BDSM | Explicit)

Proprietary Information (85K): Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Preoccupations (6K): Steve doesn't usually pay much attention to the new hires. But there's something about this kid.

Brooklyn's on Fire (4K): Steve's turning thirty-seven and he really only wants one thing for his birthday.

Gimme Danger (6K): Bucky doesn't have time to explore his exhibitionist kink. He's very busy. He asks Steve about it anyway.

Remember You Well (in the Chelsea Hotel) (5K): Steve can't quite believe he has Bucky back. It seems too good to be true after the hell he endured while missing him. The universe, however, is full of surprises.

Close Call (6K): Bucky and Steve make it through two weeks of living together before the inevitable "first fight" of cohabitation. They (mostly) handle it like adults. And the makeup sex is killer, in Bucky's not-so-humble opinion.

To Sir, With Love (10K): Steve recognizes that his jealousy over Bucky's infatuation with one of his professors isn't rational, but that doesn't make it any less real. And, hey, if you can't beat them, join them, right? Besides, he's always wanted a tweed jacket.

Mergers and Acquisitions (41K): Steve and Bucky are going to the chapel, and they’re going to get married. Meanwhile, Peggy and Natasha…

💙 a day in the life by powerfulowl (StuckyFlangst) / @stuckyflangst (Post-Endgame Fix-It, Time Travel, Groundhog Day | 20K | Explicit): Steve Rogers wakes up on Tuesday October 30 1956, and doesn't seem to remember his life that well. Why does every day feel so familiar? And why does he keep getting visited by tall, dark, handsome men who remind him of Bucky?

The Day After, the Aftermath, or Whatever It Is That Feels Like a Hangover, Christmas, and His Birthday All at the Same Time by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)/ @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (Modern AU | 1K | Mature): Bucky wakes the day after his thirtieth birthday with a hangover, a hardon, and a beautiful man sharing his bed.

Tell Me I Can Have It All by HaniTrash/ @hanitrash (Stucky in Wakanda | 1K | Explicit): Steve is tired of Bucky trying to push him away after he comes out of cryo in Wakanda. Rehashing the same argument brings up some new information that Bucky can't ignore, and makes him second-guess his decision to keep Steve at arm's length.

I'd Fuck Me by fandomfluffandfuck/ @fandomfluffandfuck (Evanstan, PWP | 6K | Explicit): When unexpectedly given a unique hotel room while on a Marvel press tour, Chris Evans ends up spending his evening alone, yet still making the most of his room... (Part 1 of Fuck This)

I'd Fuck You by fandomfluffandfuck/ @fandomfluffandfuck (Evanstan RPF | 8K | Explicit): Armed with nudes that contain enough raw sexual energy to cause nuclear explosions, Chris decides it's time to fucking blow Sebastian's mind... (Part 2 of Fuck This)

Captain Orgy 69 @ gmail.com by Gfawkes/ @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes (Evanstan RPF, Friends to Lovers | 12K | Explicit): Or, Chris and Sebastian finally star in that rom-com they've been talking about.

My Heart Belongs to Captain Rogers by lavenderbucky (Canon | 3K | General): Steve wakes up late for his run, wears one of Bucky's shirts in public and goes slightly viral on Twitter. You know. Just an average day in his life.

5 Times Bucky Styled His Hair + 1 Time Steve Did It For Him by lavenderbucky (Post-WS | 8K | Teen): Steve is so happy to have Bucky back. His best friend is a little different to how he was in the 40s, but in some ways he's the exact same. But even if Bucky is his favourite person in the world, and even if Steve thinks his hair is really, really pretty, Steve's feelings for him are completely platonic. Right? Or: a love story, told through Bucky's hair.

WIP

💙 This is (not) a Ghost Story [COMIC] by PottersPink/ @potterspink​ (Post-WS | 11/31 | General): Steve moves into a haunted house. Well — everyone else is convinced it’s haunted, anyways.

Countermoves by cable-knit-sweater (cable_knit_sweater) (Evanstan RPF, CATFA | 11K | Explicit): Sebastian knows about Chris Evans, has to take his shot when he sees him. Chris doesn’t have a clue who Sebastian is, aside from being a pretty guy he meets in a club. The attraction is instant, and Sebastian takes Chris home, with a little detour or two. Chris thinks it’s just a one-night stand he’ll be thinking about for a long time, cursing himself for not getting the guy’s number. Until a couple of months later, he has the first table read for Captain America: The First Avenger, and he meets him again.

💙 Whip Crack by Quarra/ @quarra (Canon Divergent, Tentacle Monster Steve | 15/? | 119K | Explicit): Tentacle Monster Steve is captured by Hydra. They send in the Winter Soldier with a bull whip to break him, but as far as Steve’s concerned the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen walked in to his cell and started waving a sexy black tentacle at him. It’s love at first sight.

💙 hey now, you’re an all star (get your game on, go play) by buckyismybicycle/ @buckyismybicycle (NHL Hockey AU | 20/? | 63K | Explicit): Boston Bruins trade notorious party animal/human disaster Bucky Barnes to the Dallas Stars, and captain Steve Rogers is not impressed when Fury puts him on babysitting duties. But, as he gets to know Bucky - really gets to know Bucky - he wonders if maybe the media has got it all wrong - very, very wrong.

Re-Read

💙 Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Modern AU with powers, Daddy kink | 89K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth. So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants? 

Now! That’s What I Call 90’s Slow Jams by deadonarrival (Modern AU | 11K | Mature): Steve goes home for the wedding of Becca Barnes and while he’s there he runs into his old crush. Her brother. Except now they are both hot as shit. Oh no whatever will happen.

Brooklyn by togina/ @toli-a​ (Post-WS | 8,7K | Teen): "Captain America, what’s your stance on gay marriage?“ Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

[truedumpling]

i love how crossing guards on duty will help everyone across the street not just schoolchildren. it makes me think of a stucky modern au where office worker steve lives in a school zone and is helped across the street every day by very cute crossing guard bucky!! steve always says "thank you" and bucky always smiles and steve keeps track of how the crossing guard's hair and stubble/beard change as the school year progresses. they go on their first date on the first day of summer vacation

[katie-delaney]

Stucky Fic Masterlist

Wanted to put all my fics together, see below, under read more cos Jesus when did I write this much fic?!

ABO

Alpha Steve/Omega Bucky

He Ate My Heart 119,487 words, work complete, series WIP (Also contains Steve/Bucky/T'Challa in one sex scene but relationship is Stucky) AU but avengers adjacent.

Vanity Fair 5885 words, in progress, AU, forced marriage, rich brat Bucky, veteran Steve Rogers.

Cabin in the Woods 14,513 words, complete, AU

The Alpha Party 12,458 words, complete, college AU

Breakfast 28,741 words, complete (Also contains Steve/Bucky/Tony in one sex scene but main relationship is Stucky) AU

Intent 34,277 words, complete, period drama AU

Pushing the Envelope 12,560 words, complete, AU

The Meat Grinder 34,666 words, in progress (also contains Bucky/Steve/multiple others but main ship is Stucky) AU

Alpha Bucky/Omega Steve

Bungee Jumping 3900 words, complete, post CATWS

Coming Home 6369 words, complete, AU

Relics 5008 words, complete, AU

Atypical 5731 words, complete, AU

Ghosted 10727 words, complete, vampire AU, vampire Bucky, human Steve

The New Gods 40,135 words, in progress, (Also contains Steve/Bucky/Others in sex scenes but main relationship is Stucky) AU

Mission Failure 3717 words, complete, post Captain America The Winter Soldier.

Alpha Bucky/Alpha Steve/Omega Bucky

Empire State of Mind 8871 words, in progress, college AU

Alpha Bucky/Alpha Steve/Omega Peter Parker

Domestic Bliss 9277 words, complete, post CATWS AU

Alpha Bucky/Omega Steve/Omega Peter Parker

The Officers Tent 13168 words, in progress, AU

Non-ABO

Top Quality Silk 2755, pre CATFA, complete

Cinematic 3596 words, pre CATFA, complete

My Best Girl 5055 words, pre CATFA, complete

Straight off the Top Shelf 5094 words, pre CATFA, complete

A View to a Kill 12,962, pre CATFA, in progress, also contains Bucky/multiple original female characters, main romantic ship Stucky, in progress

The Virgin Poster Boy 6482 words, mid CATFA, sex scene Bucky/Steve/female character but romantic ship is Stucky, complete

Sky Scrapers Rise Above Us, Keeping Me From Finding You, 5653 words, post CATWS, complete

Til the Stars Go Out 8553 words, post CATWS, complete

Stay with Me 5391 words, post CATWS, complete

Title of Captain America's Sex Tape 7418 words, post CATWS, complete

Mile High Club 5007 words, mid CACW, missing Quinjet scene, complete.

Waking in Wakanda 10,992 words, post CACW, complete

American Idiot 11,946 words, post end game, complete

Your Wife Waters Flowers/I Wanna Kill Her, 8928 words, post end game but canon divergent, complete

Non-ABO AUs

The Bodyguard 24,420 words, bodyguard Bucky/artist Steve AU, complete

The Healing Witch 5274 words, AU masseuse Steve/veteran Bucky, complete

Goin' Out Swingin' 9330 words, rockstar AU inspired by Pam and Tommy, complete

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? 2962 words, vampire AU, Vampire Steve/Human Bucky, in progress

[buckys-little-belle]

Mafia Au (Part Two)

Settling in

Mafia!Stucky x Little!Reader (They/Them pronouns used)

Warnings - Sad reader, Rumlow is still mentioned, this won't make sense if you don't read the previous chapter, reader changes into their pajamas and the boys help them, reader is afraid of the dark? Me too!

Notes - This is ... This is a shortish fic, but at the same time I really needed some good fluff from the boys, so hehehehe, please enjoy. also half and half a filler fic, half a real fic, it’s just very domestic and not totally going to be sooo important to the story line, it’s just, it’s a fun read i guess.

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

+ + + + + +

Steve and Bucky's so called 'home' was huge, the outside grand, and bright, even at night, the driveway lit up, the front door in the center seemingly glowing. "We're home Dove." Steve said as he turned in his seat to look back at them, their face between awe and shock, the home look so much more inviting than any house they had ever seen, and looked in much better shape than anywhere they had stayed before. "Dove?" Steve called again.

"I's huge." They said, their eyes never leaving the ivory walls and warm wood fixtures. "Like really huge." Dove now looked at the two men in the front seat, anticipation written on their features.

"A lot of the house if office space." Bucky explained. "The area we call home is pretty cozy." He had a smirk on his face, enjoying the way Dove nodded their head as if they truly understood his words.

"Do you want to go inside?" Steve asked smirking as well, excited to show someone their home, someone who would also call it home.

"Mhm." Dove nodded, trying to unbuckle their seatbelt as the two men got out of the vehicle, their door opening up as large hands came to undo the hard to understand buckle that locked them in. "Thanks." They mumbled, worried that their lack of independence would hinder their value, just like it did with their brother. 2

"What's wrong Dove?" Bucky asked as he helped them out of the vehicle, a small frown etched on their face.

"'m jus' scared." They sighed, Steve and Bucky both waiting for them to continue. "I know you are both nice, I jus', I don' want to be bad." Their past fear of no Tv, or necessities being taken away kept creeping in, gnawing at the comfort they felt around their two new caregivers.

Steve held in a sigh of anger, wanting to make Brock pay for the way Y/n felt, make him know the pain his Dove has to endure even when he's long gone. Steve calms, his deep breath easing the pang of guilt in his chest as he sees a tear fall down Y/n's cheek, quickly scooping it up with his index finger as he grabs their hand. "Everyone makes mistakes, everyone does things they don't mean, that doesn't make them bad Dove." He holds back his own tears, not realizing that they would have to help Dove in more ways than just unbuckling their seatbelt, Bucky and Steve would have to show them that they deserve to take up space, that they deserve help and love. "Me and Buck are both going to mess up too, but that doesn't make us bad caregivers, it just means we are learning, just like you."

"This is a big step for all of us Dove, but we're willing to take it if you are." Bucky adds on.

"I wan'to." They nod, their eyes still watering, fear still there, but a sense of relief washing over them at the same time.

+ + + + + +

As the three of them walked inside Y/n was shocked, the house looked lived in, and warm, not what they expected. The walls a soft white, furniture in greens, blues, and warm wood tones, comforting paintings lining would be bare walls, the Livingroom sunken in with a large sectional, clearly perfect for movie nights. The kitchen could be seen from the doorway, the dining room too, everything open and airy, the house almost hugging you when you entered.

"What do you think?" Steve asked, still holding their hand, giving it a small shake.

"I think 'm thirsty, jus' a little." Y/n honestly said, still staring at the comfy couch, noticing a circle bed like chair near it, draped in soft blankets, already making a mental note to have a nap their at least once.

Steve and Bucky chuckled, leading them to the kitchen, an archway and small breakfast nook surrounded by windows now seen, the kitchen cupboards a soft green, matching the trees Y/n could see from out the windows, a smile creeping up on their cheeks.

"We didn't know what your favorite colour is." Bucky began, opening a large drawer filled with plastic dishes of all colours. "Do you want to pick a cup?" He asked, a bunch of printed water bottles on display, dinosaurs, space, unicorns, princesses, frogs, snowflakes, too many to choose from.

"I don' know." They mumbled, looking into the drawer worriedly, what if they chose the wrong one. "I can pick whatever I wan'?"

Steve nodded, watching Y/n reach for a plain one, the green one. "You want that one?" Steve asked, shocked at the lack of print in their choice.

"Mhm, maybe later I can put som' stickers on it." They said, looking at the water bottle with hope, thinking that maybe even if they don't want them to stay, they can at least keep the water bottle.

"I think we bought you some stickers already." Steve said, looking to Bucky for confirmation. "Why don't we go find them and you can start decorating okay?" He asked, offering up his hand to be held again as Bucky took the water bottle and began filling it up.

Steve led Dove down a hallway, opening a door with wooden letter of Dove's first initial, a pang in their chest of belonging suddenly making their eyes once again swell with tears, they had made this room for them, and whatever was behind the door was for them by people who cared about them before they had ever met.

Dove turned quickly and wrapped their arms around Steve's waist, his hands laid on their back in shock. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked, seeing the tears in Y/n's eyes.

"I's for me." They pointed at the sign on the door, their arms leaving Steve's body as they fell to their side.

Bucky was speechless, he made sure to put a letter on the door so that Y/n wouldn't get lost trying to find their room, wouldn't get frustrated opening a bunch of doors just to find their bed. "Of course Dove." Bucky chuckled. "We wanted you to know where your room was." He opened the door, showing Dove their room, a sob leaving their mouth as they looked inside.

The walls were a soft green, a couple blue painted arches on the walls defining where a few bookcases were, filled to the brim with books, the arches defining the toy shelfs, a few stuffies on them, but eft blank to fill on their own, the warm wood floors covered in soft white and cream rugs, a few ground pillows to sit on littering the area, and finally a wall opening leading to the coziest bed spot, the bed frame a soft wood, the frame a platform type, no space for under the bed monsters. The bed was covered in blankets and pillows, see-through fabric hanging from the celling, a fancy and modern like canopy bed, a small lamp on top of the headboard, and most importantly their stuffies from home sat against soft pillows.

Y/n jumped into the bed, pushing their nose to their stuffed animals, feeling a sense of comfort knowing some things were still the same. "We had Sam pick some things up from your apartment." Bucky said, opening a bag he got from who knows where, pulling out a pair of pajamas that Y/n already owned, butterflies covering the soft purple fabric. "But tomorrow we are going to go shopping, buy you some more things, like a winter coat." His heart crumpled saying that.

Sam had reported back saying the apartment was almost empty, a few stuffies and a few outfits the only thing making the place look lived in, the clothing hardly considered enough to live off of, two pairs of pajamas, a few sweaters, some pants, and a hanger that clearly held the one nice outfit they were wearing now. No coat, or mits, hat, boots, swimsuit, running shoes, anything other than the bare necessities were found. And knowing how much money Rumlow had, how many outfits, cars, houses he owned, made Y/n's lack of things seem so much more deliberate than anyone could even imagine.

"I don' need more things." Y/n mumbled, sitting up in their new bed, rubbing their hands against their eyes, sleep clearly trying to take over.

"Dove." Steve chuckled. "You're our little now, and we intend on spoiling you."

Bucky placed the pajamas on the bed, getting ready to walk out for the night when Y/n sighed. "I don' wanna put dem on, too sleepy." They just laid back down, hugging their stuffy close as they kicked the blankets around to their liking. "Can you do it?" They asked their eyes still closed. "Sorry." They sat up, Bucky and Steve expecting them to take their question back, clearly a slip up in their will to do everything themself. "Can you help me, please?" They asked, their head bowed, ready for rejection.

"Of course Dove." Bucky said, elbowing Steve, making him pick up the pajamas and get ready to help. "Can you stand up?" He said, still in shock that they were already accepting the fact that the two men were genuinely there to help, not leave them alone and confused to do things on their own like they once were.

Dove stood up, unbuttoning their pants and kicking them off, Steve held open the pajama pants, allowing Y/n to step into them, Bucky keeping them balanced as they did so. Y/n began to struggle with their shirt, an exhausted sigh leaving their lips as they got stuck, hands held above their head, Bucky laughing as he helped pull it off all the way, Steve quickly slipping the pajama shirt on and making sure the sleeves weren't twisted, something he hated.

Bucky and Steve got Dove situated in bed, tucked tightly under the covers, their stuffies underneath with them, showing them where their bathroom was if they needed it, letting them know too that they would keep their door open if they needed anything, then a forehead kiss each and they were off, out the door and down the hall to their own room, getting in their own pajamas and getting ready to end the day.

"I can't stop thinking about all of the times they just slept in their regular clothing because no one was there to help." Bucky scoffed, walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Buck I just got that picture out of my mind." Steve argued, picking up his book off his night table to read before bed.

"I just can't believe they let us help." Bucky changed the conversation slightly.

"It's got to be a good sign, that they are letting us help already, trust us enough to take care of them." Steve answered, putting his glasses on as he cracked open his book, 'a guide to becoming a caregiver', the eighth caregiver/age regression book he's found and immediately read in the past three months as they prepared for Y/n to come and live with them. "But their behavior might change later on." Steve spoke, reciting things he had read in his books, trying to navigate the situation at hand. "They are stressed, tired, in a new place, very overwhelmed, this could just be a one time thing." He continued, growing sad at his own words, wanting to fight himself for even thinking that way.

"Really?" Bucky laughs. "I'm usually the one that makes everything sad and yet here you are." He pauses. "Acting as if Dove is going to wake up and not trust us."

"They might." Steve admitted, guilt written all over his features.

"Sirs?" A small voice was heard from the hallway, the crack in the door allowing Dove's shadow to be seen, it creaking open slightly.

"Everything okay Dove?" Bucky asked, disregarding his and Steve's conversation, happy for the distraction. "What's wrong?" He asked again, Dove's shy face not revealing any clues as to why they seemed to need something.

"I's jus' a little." They held their fingers up to show how little. "Li'l dark, in m'room." They said, worry on their face, unsure if they were allowed to bring things like this up, or if they should just leave it.

Steve smiled sweetly, putting his book down and walking towards the door. "I think there's a nightlight in your room, why don't we go find it?" He asked, smiling down at Dove, turning the hallway light on so they could see.

"You too?" Dove asked, looking at Bucky, wondering if he would follow.

"I can come too, sure." He smiled, following behind alongside Steve as Y/n lead the way back to their room, something Bucky felt he could get used to.

The three of them entered the room, Steve turning the overhead light on as Bucky began looking in a few spots for a nightlight. "Oh here!" He said, showing the sweet cloud nightlight off to Y/n, who's face lit up at the sight of it.

Steve grabbed it and plugged it in next to the bed, giving it a few taps to ensure it would stay put, smiling as he stood back, Y/n kneeling in front of it in awe. "I'm gon'name him fluff ball!" They cheered, touching the plastic as if it were actually a fluffy cloud.

"That's a perfect name Dove." Bucky cooed, ushering them back into bed, pulling the covers up to their chin, and tucking them in nice and tight, once again the two of them kissing their forehead.

"Can you stay too?" Dove asked, teary eyed as they watched the two men leave a little too quickly.

They both looked at each other and nodded, Steve grabbing a couple floor pillows and placing them next to the bed. "This good?" He asked, his back leaned against the bed as Y/n watched him and Bucky.

"Yes, thanks." They closed their eyes, happy in their burrito position.

"I told you." Bucky smiled, Steve shaking his head in disapproval, more aware that maybe tomorrow Dove wouldn't be so willing to ask for help, no one could know, and he didn't want to get his hopes up.

Eventually soft mumbles could be heard, Dove making some noise while they sleep, and a few deep snores could be heard here and there, those coming from the two sleeping super soldiers, mafia men, powerful business people, owners of the city, who had fallen asleep on the floor, at the side of their little's bed.

[haleyhunwritess]

broken promises is so good😭 would you ever consider an au of it where she escapes/someone helps her escape and she actually gets away with it? like steve and bucky actually end up getting caught or something

𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐮!)

warnings: soft!dark!stucky x little!reader

a/n: i'm so happy you like it, love!! i hope you enjoy this too <3

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 (𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

She'd never noticed how beautiful the sky was at night. Tonight there was a special kind of darkness, one that only exists to hold the stars and make them shine even brighter. Though she was tired from running for so long, she couldn't stop but stare at the beautiful sky. Of course to others it probably seemed like an ordinary night. Most were headed home, probably after a long, hard day of work. They couldn't wait to get home while she never wanted to go back inside again.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been allowed out of the house, especially this late at night. Probably months by now. The last time they took her out on a picnic was the last time she was allowed out of the house.

When that strange woman came up to her, she started searching for more answers. Eventually, all the memories started flooding back, including how Wanda had helped them brainwash her. She was absolutely terrified.

This time she was clever though. She knew she had to keep this a secret from them and pretend to play into their fantasy, otherwise she would never be able to escape them. Foolishly, they believed her. They believed every lie that came out of her. Never questioned if her sudden clinginess or neediness was fake.

Once they started trusting her enough to stay home alone, she started working on her escape plan. It took a while, but once she was able to get the code for the front door as well as Buck's special key, she ran away. She kept running, and wouldn't stop for until her legs eventually gave in. Even then, she didn't ask for anyone's help. She didn't know who to trust anymore.

Eventually, it was night time. It got fairly dark but there were still people everywhere. She didn't know who to ask for help but then she spotted a cop car and ran towards it. She knocked on the window, and waited for the officer to get out of their car before she began telling them her story. Although they weren't sure whether or not to believe her, they still took her down to the station.

She begged them to believe her, and though some of them did, others had a hard time believing that Steve and Bucky would be capable of doing something like this. She asked them to call May, hoping she could help her out.

The second May saw her, she broke down crying and hugged her tightly. Although, all that softness disappeared when she began yelling at the officers for not doing their job. She asked them to find the house where they had kept her and look for evidence.

Thankfully, they listened to her, and after a bit of searching they found the house. Once they looked inside, there was enough photos and other evidence that she was telling the truth. This led to Bucky and Steve getting arrested, and she felt like she could finally breathe.

She had moved in with May at first because she didn't feel safe being on her own yet. However, just two days ago, she found herself a small apartment that was away from all this. The place wasn't too big but she was able to decorate it somewhat and make it look nicer. The kitchen stuff was still packed away so she decided to pick up takeout. The lady at the small restaurant across the street was starting to become her friend, and her food was always delicious. Things were starting to fall back into pieces.

Once she got her food, she walked up the stairs to her apartment. Reaching for her key to unlock the door, she heard her phone start to ring. She opened the door, and walked straight to the kitchen to put the food down and check who was calling her. The screen read UNKNOWN, so she decided to ignore it and started taking things out of the takeout box. She put some of it on a pastel pink coloured plastic plate with matching plastic cutlery, and filled up a sippy with some chocolate milk before making her way over to the living room.

She was about to put the plate down on the coffee table when she noticed Bucky was sitting there with a smirk on his face, "Aww princess, you're still using the sippy we got you? I do like the new pink plates though, and the matching forks and spoons too of course."

She quickly turned around to run when she noticed Steve was standing in the hallway, with his arms crossed, "Sweetheart, you ignored my call earlier. You know you're not supposed to do that."

"Don't worry about it, Steve, she's not going anywhere now. We have lots of time to punish our girl for trying to leave us." Bucky got up from the couch and made his way over to his girl. "Did you miss us, doll?"

[bulkyphrase]

Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List Day 4 - Birthday Comedy

It's @fluffystevefest day 4 - Happy birthday Steve! The theme for Thursday is Birthday, but, like yesterday, you're getting something completely different—comedy!

Please enjoy this not at all birthday-themed list of some of my favorite funny fluffy fics.

Son or Dog? by SucculentHyena (@succulent-hyena) (Stucky, General Audiences, 2,518 words)

Summary: Nobody can stop talking about Steve Rogers, the newest employee in the office. He’s nice, he’s handsome, and he adores Charlie. There’s only one thing they can’t figure out: is Charlie his son? Or his dog? Bucky’s going to try his best to find out.

How to Train Your Superheroes by StuckySituation (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 3,150 words)

Summary: “But of course, no matter how much we practice on schedule, we will need to learn constant vigilance and manage to get our reaction times down to the minimum,” Steve continues and takes the last burger beef from the grill and puts it onto the table next to him. Natasha has a brief millisecond to frown and think “Constant vigilance?”, before Steve kicks the grill so hard that the coals rain on top of the flammable carpet feets away. “What the hell-!?” “STEVE!?” Steve is already sprinting towards the ledge. “First training session started! Wanda, Sam, Tony - someone CATCH ME!” Then he jumps off the Tower.

Check One by JenTheSweetie (@jenthesweetie) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 4,263 words)

Summary: The important thing to know - and I mean really, the actually important thing - is that no matter what Bucky said, Steve was not flirting with Tony Stark. (“Yes you were, you son of a - ”) Steve has an annoying best friend. Tony has an elaborate plan. Sam has allergies. Bucky has no idea what's about to hit him.

Blind Date by @aggressivewhenstartled, quietnight (@quietnighty) (Teen And Up Audiences, 8,294 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: “I just had the best idea I have ever had in my life,” Bucky said, punching straight through a doombot with his metal hand and clutching the napkin with Steve’s phone number in the other. The formerly (somewhat) dark and peaceful corner of Central Park was now lit up with energy beams, flashing robotic lights, and panicked astronomy buffs running for cover. Oh well, it wasn't like they'd been going to see many stars what with all the Christmas shit everywhere. “The bar you are setting for that is not high,” Natasha told him over the coms. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

Situation: Normal by redcigar (Mature, 3,155 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: AU wherein Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers never met, Steve somehow manages to rescue the Winter Soldier anyway, and Avengers Tower ends up with the world’s angriest duckling and a whole new brand of entertainment. - (“He was dragging him out of the river,” Natasha argues later. “Nat, be honest, he was going for the Full Monty.” Says Clint. “I’m pretty sure we interrupted him in the middle of giving ‘emergency CPR’,” Tony agrees, “Or the stage after emergency CPR. Emergency Dick? Is that a thing?” “That’s not a thing,” Natasha and Clint reply.) Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

How Steve Rogers Singlehandedly Lost the Cold War by redcigar (Mature, 3,880 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: AU wherein Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes never met, but the Winter Soldier takes an interest in Captain America anyway, and has an odd way of showing it. -- (On the helicarrier, hurrying to reach the central hub of the third aircraft in time, the chip clenched in his gloved fist, Steve turns to find a ghost blocking his path, and is abruptly reminded on what the road to hell is paved with.) Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

The God of Solid Life Advice by kehinki (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 1,583 words)

Summary: It's 2012. Steve is just informed by Loki that Bucky's alive. Loki also tells him some other things.

Bait and Switch by @galwednesday (Teen And Up Audiences, 2,650 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: "Post-action tacos?” Tony suggested. “I’m thinking that place by Fordham. BattleBot, you in?” “Can’t,” the Soldier said, typing something into his phone. “I have a date.” Tony stopped talking for an entire three seconds. “You. Have a date.” The Soldier looked up and blinked, clearly nonplussed to find Sam and Tony both staring at him. “Yes.” “With who?” “My boyfriend.” “You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend?” Tony looked like he’d just walked into a lamppost, and then the lamppost had handed him a birthday present. Also available as a podfic read by Nendian

[steevbuckk]

FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 50/100

Learn Me Hard Oh, Learn Me Right by @love-ha-fge

[College AU, 60 000 words, Explicit]

Summary:

“Have you always struggled with math, Steve?” Dr. Potts asked.

The blush crept higher as the same shame that he had felt since the second grade crawled up his spine.

“You’re not the only one.” She assured, handing the papers back to him. “Luckily, you can get one-on-one tutoring at the student center, your tuition covers two sessions per week.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Steve accepted the paper and stood, sliding his backpack over his shoulders. Making his way out of her office he paused when she called his name. “Ma’am?”

“Ask for Bucky Barnes.” Her lips turned up at the name. “He’s one of the math majors that I oversee, haven’t had a student work with him who hasn’t passed.”

No pressure, Steve thought. “I’ll make sure to do that. Thank you Dr. Potts.” “Good luck Steve.”

He didn’t need luck, he needed a miracle.

more fics

[dimplesandfierceeyes]

AO3 Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @incandescentflower! Sorry it's taken an actual age for me to get round to it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I somehow have 47...

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

556,173 words... a totally normal amount

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bad Buddy, mostly . I wrote for a few others, almost a decade ago or longer, but Bad Buddy finally got me posting again! One day I might branch out... but we'll see haha!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Fine Line Between Hormones and Home 

A Soft Boy in Soft Sweaters

All that Gleams is Not Gold, but Some that Gleams Is

music is not in the notes, but in the silence between them 

you can't lose a game you don't want to win

Actually, a couple of those are pretty surprising! 😂

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I always try to, though sometimes it might take me many months. I love to let people know that I appreciate the time they take in replying to my fics.

Fanfiction writing can be a pretty lonely endeavour. You're writing sommething that you hope is going to resonate with the fandom but until you put it out there, you can't know! So when I get comments, I want to respond in kind. For me, it helps with the feeling of a fandom community.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Priestly Duties - a Stucky fic where pre-serum Steve is a Catholic priest who gives into his desires for Bucky, but only once.

I didn't start it expecting it to turn out so angsty but the character kind of took it out of my hands!

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all of the others? I'm actually a big happy endings girlie. If I had to pick one though, I'd probably pick Aroma-nce So Sweet because the boys have no family feud to contend with.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often, but sadly, hate abounds despite out attempts to push it out of fandom spaces

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

Do you want to know a secret? When I first started out in the Bad Buddy fandom, I had no plans on writing any smut for PatPran.

Then, less than three months after posting my first fic, I stumbled across a tumblr prompt and after that, the floodgates well and truly opened.

In terms of a 'kind', I'd say it tends to be on the explicit but wholesome side

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

I don't write crossovers exactly but I do steal concepts and scenarios from other shows to put my characters in haha.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It was very flattering to be asked 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, though not a published one

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Whatever I'm obsessed with in the moment, which is currently, of course, PatPran

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Bad Buddy Regency AU 🥲🥲 I just can't get it to come together…

16. What are your writing strengths?

I focus quite heavily on characterisation in my fics, I like to make them feel authentic to the original versions of themselves, even in an AU. I get quite a few compliments on it so I like to think I do pretty well haha

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing too much 😂😂 I can be a little unnecessarily verbose. I'd like to work on cutting it down a bit

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it once or twice but I’m not very confident in it so I avoid it honestly, except for the odd word

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ahhhh probably HP, a long, long time ago.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I just went through my fic list to see if one jumped out but all I found was that they all have a soft spot for me in different ways haha.

 I think in terms of how people reacted to them, The Fine Line and The Space Pirate and the Officer of the Law are the two that stand out. I had an amazing response from the fandom about those two so they're particularly special for me

---

Again, I'm not sure who's already done this so tagging a few people but sorry if this is one that you've already done!

@loooreleii @thebroccolination @toomoonfic @mendacity17 @Wolfsbane15 @itsmylifekay @geckoholic @paalove @nejineeee

[otpcutie]

Otpcutie’s Steve Rogers Bingo Masterlist — My completed @steverogersbingo fills, for round three.

1. Stucky AU: Farmer’s Market [Moodboard] (G) | Square: C3, free space

Summary (Stucky): Steve takes Bucky on a date to the farmer’s market.

Contains: farmer’s market, established relationship, fluff, domestic

Link: Tumblr

2. All In, Chapter 2: Vulnerability (E, 3.6k) | Square: C2, office

Summary (Stucky): Bucky makes his Daddy Steve (the President) jealous. Steve is clueless as to why.

Chapter summary: Bucky opens Steve’s eyes and confessions are made on both parts.

Contains: President Steve, journalist Bucky, secret relationship, D/s, Daddy Steve, brat Bucky, age difference, jealousy, Bucky is a little shit (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3 | DW

3. All In, Chapter 3: ‘Til The End Of The Line (E, 5.9k) | Square: A5, subspace/domspace

Summary (Stucky): Bucky makes his Daddy Steve (the President) jealous. Steve is clueless as to why.

Chapter summary: Things heat up and of course, the fluff continues.

Contains: President Steve, journalist Bucky, secret relationship, D/s, Daddy Steve, brat Bucky, age difference, jealousy, Bucky is a little shit (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3 | DW

4. Burning Bright (M, 0.5k) | Square: D2, hair petting/brushing kink

Summary (Stony): Steve asks Tony about a new friend of his.

Contains: Nonsexual D/s, puppy play, puppy Steve, Owner/dom Tony, jealousy, reassurance, fluff, affection (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

Card under the cut: