No one would believe you if you told them that Captain America stood on your front porch, looking like a broken man. The epitome of righteousness and apple pie had mud on his boots, and his once-so-colorful combat suit had more holes and rips than you could count.
He looked exhausted, haunted even. Steve said your name, and an apology stuck in his throat.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Rain was dripping from the ends of his hair, wetting his suit even more.
“You’re alive,” you said, but it didn’t come with the usual softness. It came out sharp. Small. Like these words carried all the hurt you endured for two years. Lost family. Broken friendships. The love of your life is gone.
Steve flinched. The coldness in his voice was unfamiliar to him. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and softness you showed only around him.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “I am.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself from reaching out for him. Maybe hit him. Or even worse, fall apart in front of him.
You hated that he still held so much power over you.
“Two years, Steve.” Your voice cracked on his name. “Two years of rumors. Two years of checking the news every morning and wondering if today was the day I’d hear about your death. And the death of my friends…family.”
His jaw tightened, but his eyes were wet. “I wanted to call you, Y/N. I dialed your number so many times, but never pressed dial.”
You laughed, a hollow sound. Not the carefree laughter he loved so much.
“Then you should have, Steve. All I wanted was to know you’re still alive. I tried to reach out myself, even contact Tony, but…” You shook your head. “He didn’t answer my calls. Stark holds grudges.”
Steve looked down at his hands and sighed. “I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. I need you to know that leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Y/N. It was the only way to keep you out of this fight. I didn’t…we didn’t want you to end up caught in the crossfire.”
Your throat tightened. For two years, you were angry. Now that you had the chance to yell, scream, and cry, Steve was standing in front of you, looking smaller than you remembered.
“I don’t forgive you yet, Steve,” you said, barely above a whisper.
Steve nodded once, like even that was more than he deserved. “Okay.”
“But I missed you,” you admitted. “I missed you so much that I hated you for it.”
His face fell. “I missed you, too,” he said. “Every damn day. But…we all decided it was best not to contact our families and loved ones. Sam was close to visiting his sister Sarah, but decided against it.”
You took one step forward before you could talk yourself out of it. Steve just stood there in the rain and waited.
“You’re soaked,” you murmured.
Steve nodded again, a broken smile on his face. “Yeah. I noticed.”
You stepped aside and opened the door wider for him to enter. “Come in before you lure in more strays, Rogers.”
He stared at you for a second, unsure if it was the right thing to do. “Are you sure?”
“No,” you said. “But I’m sure I don’t want you standing out there in the rain anymore. Especially on your birthday.”
Steve reluctantly stepped inside your house, feeling the warmth of your past envelop him. He took off his boots and dropped the duffel bag he was carrying next to them.
“Thank you.”
“It’s the only birthday gift you will get from me this year,” you said, your voice softer now. “You should get out of the suit and take a warm shower. We can talk later.”
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse: infinity war steve rogers
pairing: infinity war!steve rogers x female reader
summary: being on the run won't stop steve rogers from seeing his favorite girl.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), slight angst, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, big cock, almost somnophilia, pet names (angel), established relationship
word count: 1.1k
a/n: the request for infinity war era Steve comes from @perdidosbucky-yyo and i wasn't totally sure what to write for it. but then i saw @biteofcherry's post about leaving her cookie out for Steve for his birthday and the idea of IW Steve coming home to reader took form! hope y'all enjoy 😉
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
Infinity War era Steve Rogers spends his birthday laying low since he’s still on the run after everything that happened. But even the threat of General Ross bringing the entire might of the U.S. government down on his head can’t keep Steve from seeing his favorite girl.
In the early morning hours on July 4th, Steve lets himself into your apartment, using the key you left hidden under the mat for him. He peels off his gear, stripping on the way to the bathroom and grabbing a quick shower to clean the grime of travel off his body.
Once he’s done, he towels off quickly and dons only a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in before slipping soundlessly into your bedroom. He pauses for a moment to take you in. You’re laying on your side in the exact middle of the bed, your eyes closed and your lips parted as you breathe deeply in your sleep.
Steve has to bite back a snicker when he notices the bit of drool at the corner of your mouth, but the sound dies in his throat when he notices that your arms are wrapped around a pillow—one you’ve covered with one of his shirts.
When he realizes that you’re clinging so tightly to something of his, even in your sleep, Steve’s heart thumps hard in his chest and he knows he can’t keep himself away from you for even a moment longer. He’s been gone too long, and he misses you too badly.
In just a few quick strides, Steve crosses the room to the bed and slips beneath the blankets behind you.
You always keep the air conditioner on high in the summer, needing the weight of your blankets to sleep, so Steve doesn’t notice that you’re completely naked until he bundles you up in his arms. He pulls your back into his front, slotting you in perfectly against his body.
Suddenly, there’s so much warm, bare skin pressing against Steve’s chest, his arms, his legs, that for an entire minute, his mind completely blanks out. He knows, deep down, that you did this for him. Normally, you wear one of his shirts to bed, so the fact that you’re naked means you were waiting for him—that you’re ready for him.
While Steve’s short-circuiting behind you, you rouse from sleep, giving a sleepy mumble of his name.
“Steve?”
That snaps him out of it, and he squeezes you a little tighter in his arms. “It’s me, angel,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck, reveling in the way you shiver at the rasp of his beard. “Had to see my best girl on my birthday.”
“Mmm,” you hum in agreement. Wiggling your ass, you rub sleepily against Steve’s hardening cock, the tantalizing warmth of your pussy teasing him and making him groan softly against your cheek. “Want you, Steve. Inside. Please.”
The soft, broken sound of your voice begging for his cock is too much for Steve. All he can do is give you exactly what you asked for. It takes him very little time to shove his briefs down and line up the tip of his cock with your warm, welcoming entrance.
Steve works himself inside you slowly, one of his hands slipping around your hip and dipping between your thighs to stroke your clit sweetly, teasing you open. Helpless moans fall from your lips and you bury your face in the pillow wrapped in Steve’s shirt, letting the soft cotton muffle your sounds of pleasure.
It feels endless, the stretch and ache of taking the super-soldier’s thick cock after so long, and by the time Steve hilts himself in your pussy, you’re both breathing hard. He sucks a hickey into your shoulder, making you whine and clench around his fat dick.
“Baby, baby, ‘m not gonna last long,” Steve rumbles, trailing kisses up your neck to nip at the edge of your jaw. “You feel too good and it’s been too long.”
You’re nodding your head before he’s finished speaking, biting back a sob of pleasure even as you roll your hips impatiently. “Too long,” you echo, and the subtle thread of sadness in your voice nearly breaks Steve’s heart.
He captures your chin in one hand, turning your head enough so his mouth can find yours. He kisses you hard, fierce, as he begins to fuck you, hard and deep. “I miss you so fucking much when I’m gone, angel,” he rumbles against your mouth, lifting up enough so that he can look into your pretty eyes, see your face as pleasure surges through your body.
You stare up at Steve like he’s your everything, one hand cupping his jaw, fingers sinking possessively into his beard and yanking him down for another kiss. “I miss you, too, Steve,” you confess against his mouth before kissing him again harder, pouring all your love for him into it as tears spill down your cheeks.
The hard things go unsaid. Steve’s birthday isn’t the time to talk about how you wish he didn’t have to leave again, even though you know he’ll have to. And you’re grateful he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep about when he’ll be able to come home for good. For the day, the two of you will just enjoy each other.
Steve’s hand slips back between your thighs, rubbing your clit, determined to make you cum first. He uses everything he knows about your body to ratchet your pleasure higher, getting you to the edge before he lets himself cum. Still, it’s a near thing. But he manages to find the spot inside you that drives you wild, and he pounds into it until you’re quaking in his arms.
You pull away from Steve’s mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure in his beard, just beneath his jaw, the vibrations of you coming apart shooting down his spine and straight to his dick. He twitches inside you, your cunt clenching hard around him, and then he’s coming inside you.
Steve ducks his head, searching for your mouth. He kisses you breathless before you both sag back into the pillows on the bed, relaxing into the post-sex haze.
The two of you fall asleep like that, you curled up in the super-soldier’s arms, his cock still buried in your body, plugging you full of his cum. You keep him warm while he sleeps, and he keeps you safe—and when you wake up, it’s to spend the day with your man, Steve Rogers, celebrating his birthday.
At least, until he has to leave again.
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
steve rogers' birthday across the multiverse masterlist
Pairing: post-retirement!Steve Rogers x Reader
CW: None. It’s just fluff
Notes: This is just a small writing exercise of sorts cuz I’ve been struggling with writer's block for a while now. Hope you enjoy. This has nothing to do with the song, btw. 700 words.
The cabin is in the middle of nowhere, which is exactly where you and Steve wanted to be. It's not much— just a cozy fireplace, a loft bedroom and a porch that overlooks a frozen lake, miles and miles from any other people. No electricity, no running water, no cell service. Just you and the silence. Comes off as the perfect setting for a horror movie but it’s ridiculous to fear anything with Steve right there with you.
"You're supposed to be chopping wood," you call from the porch, watching him struggle to use an axe with his thick gloves
"I am chopping wood!" He swings again, and the axe buries itself in the log off center with a resounding crack. The log splits unevenly, and a piece flies off into the snow. Steve yanks the axe free and glares at it. "I should have just used my hands." he mutters, his words carrying well in the still air.
“You’re the one who said you wanted an ordinary life where you do things like ordinary people.” you remind him.
Steve stops glaring at the axe and looks at you. His expression softens.
The memory of the day you met Steve is still fresh in your mind, as if it happened only yesterday. You’d been hurrying into SHIELD HQ for your first day of work, already late and the sugary nightmare that you stood twenty minutes in line for at the nearby coffee shop already eating though it’s paper cup. You collided into Steve in the antrum and spilled your vanilla double shot caramel ribbon crunch with extra whipped cream all over his three hundred dollar shirt.
He'd introduced himself then— Captain America, though he'd only said "Steve" as if he was just Steve from accounting— and walked you to your new office, coffee stain spreading across his chest like a watercolor map. He'd asked about your background, your interests, whether you'd found the good vending machine yet (third floor, east wing). By the time you reached your door, you'd forgotten to be nervous.
It wasn't until later that you learned Steve's laugh is a rare thing. That he didn't usually walk new recruits to their offices, didn't usually ask about their lives unless there was a tactical reason. That he'd singled you out for some reason apparently. Of course, it all became clear when he asked you out to the movies about a month later.
You watch him for a moment longer from your place on the porch, then decide to go to him, the soft snow shifting beneath your boots. He's wearing a thick coat, gloves, and a lopsided wool hat Bucky sent him for Christmas (allegedly, Bucky knit it himself. He wouldn't admit to it but Sam insists he did). Steve looks so cozy and domestic that it makes you want to start kissing him and never stop.
So you do. You rise up on your toes, wrap your hands around his scarf, and pull his mouth down to yours. He tastes like coffee and his lips are chapped from the cold. It’s perfect.
"What was that for?" he asks when you pull back.
"Do I need a reason?"
"No." He grins, and it transforms his face, makes him look younger, lighter. "No, I guess you don't. But keep kissing me like that and I’ll chop all the wood you want."
You look back at his less-than-impressive pile. “You haven’t chopped any.”
Steve frowns. “I’m getting to it.”
“Maybe later.” You take the axe from his hand and set it aside. "Come inside. I'll make dinner."
"What are we having?"
"Stew. And bread, if I can get the oven going."
"Haven’t you used it like twenty times?" Steve asks.
"And I've almost burned the cabin down at least fifteen of those times." you point out.
Steve laughs, deep and warm, and pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap around you and you press your face into his coat and breathe him in— he smells of clean snow, wood smoke and home. This is what peace feels like, you realize.
✦ Pairing: Curtis Everett/fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: plus size!reader, demon king!Curtis, Curtis is like 250 cm/8,2 feet, Curtis has horns, kidnapping, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, belly bulge, dirty talk, cum marking, pet names (lamb).
✦ Summary: For Lloyd, that meant more work and less play, and he was not happy about that at all. So he devised a plan to ease the king's temper.
✦ Note: Is this among the dirtiest things I've written? Probably... but it was so much fun! If you like it please reblog it. Comments and asks are always welcome!
✦ I don't keep a taglist, but you can follow @veltanawrites and turn on notifications to get notified when I post something new.
Masterlist | AO3
The demon named Lloyd looked on with dismay as the Demon King threw yet another of the lesser demons into the abyss of no return. It wasn't that Lloyd disliked the king’s actions. No, it was just that over the course of a thousand years, since the king had been betrayed by his then betrothed, his patience with mistakes had grown shorter, and the number of lesser demons in the realm had started to dwindle.
For Lloyd, that meant more work and less play, and he was not happy about that at all. So he devised a plan to ease the king's temper. If there was one thing Lloyd knew, it was that the king needed to get laid and to have someone to care about. Despite being the ruthless king of the demon realm, Lloyd had been there when the king and his betrothed were together, and the king showed a softer side, and a more even temper, back then.
But another problem was also that, since the betrayal, the king had refused to consider an alliance with any of the other factions that inhabited the demon realm. So Lloyd had done the only thing he could, and looked to other realms, close to the demon one.
No demon alive today had been there when the veil between the realms had been thin enough to pass through regularly, but many attributed that to the demon's humanoid bodies. The fact that humans and demons could mate and produce viable offspring both Lloyd and the demon king were living proof of.
And as such, the demon Lloyd looked to the human world. And he found you.
You stand still just inside the door to the apartment you share with two other people. The air is suffocatingly hot outside, and you looked forward to the cool air inside as you walked home. Except your roommates are having a party, with the windows wide open for people to smoke from. It's as hot inside as outside. You're already sweating through your shirt, blazer, and skirt, and you want to take a long, cool shower, but not when there are twenty other people in the apartment.
You make your way through the throng towards your door, happy that you locked it before going to work. Some of your things have started to disappear lately. Inside, with the door locked once again, you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s a tad cooler in your room with the blinds pulled and the window closed. You turn on the fan and stand in the breeze while taking off your clothes and throwing them in the hamper. No reusing those for another day. You need to do laundry too, if you want to have something to wear to work at the end of the week. Exhausted, you lay on the bed in just your underwear, limbs spread, waiting for the fan to cool your heated skin.
Everything seems to crash into you all at once. Your shitty work day, your stealing roommates, the never-ending tirade of chores, the unbearable heat you won’t be able to escape until winter, and then the apartment will be freezing cold instead. Tears run down the side of your face. Also, there is a gaping hole in your chest from feeling lonely. There are only so many romance books a girl can read before starting to long for that kind of connection of her own, and you really want a connection like that. You just want someone who cares about you and wants you, despite all your flaws.
“Is that really too much to ask?” you say out loud to no one in particular.
“Of course it’s not,” a voice answers, startling you up from your bed. Standing by your desk is a man, dressed smartly in well-fitting clothes with a mustache that could be from an eighties porno, with his hair combed back. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy your roommates would hang out with.
“Who are you?” you ask, voice trembling with fear, throwing your arms up to cover your exposed chest as you back as far away from him as you can, but in the small room, you don’t get far. You’re sure you locked the door behind you. The man must have been in your room before you entered, hiding somewhere, and now he’s going to rape and kill you. The music is blaring from the party. No one is going to hear you scream. You eye the door, but you have to pass him to get to it. The window is not a quick escape since it’s closed.
“I’m Lloyd,” the man answers, and you realize just then how tall he is, a good bit over two meters. “And I’m here to take you somewhere better.”
You’re frozen stiff. “No,” you manage to press out.
“I can assure you that no harm will come to you, if that eases your mind,” he says, and you notice that his eyes seem to be unnaturally blue, almost glowing.
“What?”
“You will not be harmed, you have my word.”
“I don’t understand,” you say, more tears are running down your face now. The man is clearly insane.
“There is no need to cry, you will have a much better life than whatever this is,” he says, looking around your room with clear distaste. “I guess humans like their earthly belongings, so if it makes you feel any better, we can take all of it with us.”
Then he holds out his hand, “Come on, let’s go.”
But you don’t move, you can’t, fear is gripping your chest so hard you can barely breathe.
When he takes a step closer to you, your body suddenly switches to flight mode. With a burst of adrenaline, you go for the door, needing to try at least to save yourself. You feel an arm band around your waist, and the world turns upside down and somehow also inside out. It’s like you're on a roller coaster for zero point one second, screaming as you drop down into nothing, before you’re suddenly in a room again, except it’s completely different from before.
“What in the actual fuck,” you say, before throwing up.
Demon king Curtis stalks through the winding corridors of the ever-changing castle on his way back to his room. He needs a drink and to not see anyone else for a good long while. All day, he’s spent dealing with emissaries from the nearby realms, trying to negotiate trade deals so his people can continue to thrive, but all their offers involve some kind of marriage, and he is not doing that. He shouldn’t even be in those meetings. It’s Lloyd’s task to manage that, but Lloyd claimed he was busy. Whatever the fuck that means.
Think of the demon, and he shall appear, Curtis thinks as he nears his room, because waiting outside is Lloyd, with one of those shit-eating grins that can only mean trouble.
“What have you done now?” Curtis asks, irritation thick in his tone.
“Only what I deemed necessary.”
“That can’t be good, then.”
“We’ll see,” Lloyd’s smile widens, and then continues, “There is a present waiting for you in your room, and I hope it will bring you much joy.”
After staring at Lloyd a moment longer, Curtis opens the door with some trepidation. A present from Lloyd could mean anything, literally, and he isn’t sure he would like any of it. To his surprise, he finds a woman standing in the middle of the floor. A red band covers your eyes, while a soft robe drapes your body, tied at the waist. Curtis can feel the nervousness radiating off of you, and you jump when he closes the door.
Walking up to you, he takes you in more carefully, noticing that without a doubt, you are human. It’s an odd present coming from Lloyd. A human woman. But he also can’t help but notice how the robe hangs off your voluptuous body in a way that makes his mouth water. Even if it’s Lloyd’s doing, Curtis is king for a reason, and a present never comes without an ulterior motive.
“Who are you?” Curtis asks, and you jump again, before stuttering out your name.
“What are you doing here?” is his next question.
“Your… friend, Lloyd, was in my apartment. He brought me here. He said you needed a… companion.”
“And what’s in it for you, human?”
You swallow.
“I don’t know. No work? No chores? I won’t be lonely anymore.” Curtis can sense no lies in your words. “And Lloyd said that… that you’d bring me pleasure.”
Curtis can’t help but give a small laugh.
“And what if I just kill you instead, human?”
You stiffen even more, if possible.
“Lloyd said I wouldn’t be harmed,” you manage to answer, voice tight with fear.
“Did he now. You’re under his protection?”
Curtis glances back at the door, and for a second, thinks of calling for the other demon to make him explain, but if he knows Lloyd right, the demon is already gone.
“I guess,” you confirm.
Curtis muses on that for a moment. It’s not that he wants to hurt you or kill you, but he is big even by demon standards, taller than Lloyd, and his touch could break your bones.
“He gave me a ring,” you hold up your hand and show Curtis a black band around your middle finger. “He said it would protect my body, make it strong enough to withstand whatever you’d want to do with me.”
Now, the faint smell of arousal rises from you. You clearly don’t know what's good for you, but that only makes Curtis want you more.
“And what else did Lloyd tell you about me?”
“That you’re the demon king, ruler over this realm, and that you’ve been alone for a very long time. And that you won’t hurt me.”
Curtis hums and reaches for your face, dragging his finger over your cheek, but you don’t flinch or pull back. The fear coming from you actually lessens.
“No, I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “Remove your robe for me, my sacrificial lamb.”
With surprisingly steady fingers, you undo the knot and let the robe fall open, revealing your body that he’d only guessed at, and it’s far from disappointing. As the robe floats to the floor, Curtis takes you in, now only covered in a bra and underwear. Your breasts will fit perfectly in his hands, he knows right away, and his face will fit just as well between your plush thighs. With all your soft curves on display, there is no keeping Curtis’s cock from hardening.
That a human would undo him is hard to believe, but you seem to be removed from the politics of the demon realm, and therefore, he decides to take a chance and accept the offering given to him. You’re here because you don’t want to be lonely, and Curtis is quite fed up with that himself. It’s been a long time since he felt lust as he does now.
He lets his finger go up to your blindfold.
“Let’s get this off so you can see what the king of the demon realm looks like, before I take you to bed, lamb.”
He slips it off your face, but your eyes are squeezed shut.
“Are you sure my face won’t melt off when I see you?”
Curtis chuckles, “I’m quite sure.”
The light in the room is not bright, but your eyes still take some time to adjust from being closed. When you finally see the demon king, you have a hard time taking it all in.
He looks human-ish, except for his height and the horns on his head. They sprout from his forehead, curving back over his skull and the short buzz, before curving back up and slightly forward again, sharp points pointing upwards. It just adds to his height, and he is the tallest person you’ve ever seen, and you thought Lloyd was big. He is best described as massive, with thick, broad shoulders and a wide torso left bare to reveal hard muscle beneath a scattering of dark hair.
After you took a bath and got new clothes, Lloyd had been kind enough to conjure a picture of the demon king while he explained everything, and you thought Curtis looked good then. But up close, he's gorgeous, and so big your knees feel weak from both nerves and arousal. So what if the majority of your romance books on the shelves had monsters in them?
“Hi,” you manage to croak out.
He smiles, and you're relieved that he doesn't have sharp teeth; neither does he have claws or cloven hoofs.
“Hello, my sacrificial lamb,” he reaches out his hand, and you take it. His skin is much warmer than a human's, but not uncomfortably. With a yank, he pulls you into his body, right into his bare upper body.
You look up into his face, and his eyes glow with the same eerie blue that Lloyd’s did. Power and strength radiate from him, but you're not afraid. This whole thing is crazy and fucked up, but if you don't take it at its word, you're going to drive yourself insane.
Therefore, to calm your mind, you place a chaste kiss against Curtis' skin and tell yourself it's going to be alright. Strong hands close around your waist, and you're suddenly lifted. A shriek escapes you because you've never been lifted before. Sure, some dudes have tried, but it mostly ended with them grunting with failure and you feeling miserable. Curtis does it effortlessly. He only says, “Come up here and do that instead,” with a wicked grin.
As you're face-to-face with him, you realize he is even more gorgeous up close. You wrap your legs around his body, and he holds you with one hand on your ass, while the other grips the back of your neck.
A low rumble seems to come from Curtis' chest.
“Your ass fits perfectly in my hand, it's like you were made for me, my lamb.”
You stroke your hands over his face, feeling the scruff of his beard, making his rumble louder, which you think means he likes it. The grip on your neck hardens, and a second later, he's pressing your mouth against his.
He's not shy about kissing you in any way; he knows what he wants, and he takes it, opening your mouth, exploring with his tongue, which is human-like, if a bit more pointed. You wind your arms around his neck, holding on as he starts walking towards a bed that is bigger than any you’ve seen before. But you're not surprised since Curtis is so big. He sits down on the edge with you in his lap, straddling him, and the unmistakable feeling of his bulge presses right into your cunt.
You want to blame the fact that it's been a long time since a man touched you, and that's the reason why you're already so horny and wet. But it's not. It's everything about Curtis. The way he feels, smells, and tastes. And the way he handles you like you weigh nothing.
Experimentally, you grind down, and when Curtis moans into the kiss, the whole room seems to vibrate with it. You find you need to ask an important question, though, before this goes any further.
“How…,” but you feel a little embarrassed at asking. He raises an eyebrow.
“How is it gonna fit?“
A slow smile creeps up his face, his thumb caressing your cheek.
“Don't worry, my lamb. I will make it fit.”
That shouldn't turn you on even more, but it does. Your eyes flutter for a moment as a moan unbidden falls from your lips. With a growl, Curtis flips you onto the bed, then tears the bra and panties from your body, leaving you naked and exposed.
“Does my lamb like that idea?” he asks as he kneels between your spread legs. But he's not looking at your cunt, he's keeping eye contact with you as he picks up your foot, kissing your ankle. You have a hard time forming words, even thoughts, so you just nod as he moves higher up your leg with kisses and licks.
“Do you want me to force my demon cock into your human cunt? Want me to watch as you struggle to take it?”
Ashamed, you hide your face in your hands before nodding again.
“I'll have to thank Lloyd for finding the filthiest little lamb in the human realm for me,” he chuckles. His kisses stop in the middle of your thigh, and you peek from your fingers to see why.
Now his gaze is glued to your exposed cunt, his chest heaving heavily, the grip on your leg hardening. Without looking away, he commands, “Clench.”
For a second, you're confused, and then you do what he wants, clenching the muscles in your vagina. As you do, more wetness leaks out.
“I'm going to enjoy ruining that wet cunt after I've feasted on it,” he says, letting go of your leg and lying down on the bed.
His massive hands spread you open, but he's not hurting you; he's careful with his touch, you can tell that, despite your mind being overrun by lust. The moment his mouth lands on you, all thoughts go out of your head, though. There is only the feel of his tongue and lips, exploring all the most sensitive parts of you. His eyes are closed, and there is a content, constant hum coming from him. You try to keep your eyes on him, because he looks divine nestled between your full thighs, but he's doing things you've longed for, and it's hard not to sink back into the bed and just let him do what he wants until you break.
He suckles on your clit, using his tongue to play with it, before sliding his mouth down and pressing his thick, long tongue into your channel, over and over again, driving you insane with pleasure.
You're scrambling for something to hold onto. The sheets on the bed aren't enough, and you want to touch him, but you're not sure you're allowed to touch his horns, and you're not coherent enough to ask. But still, your hands creep down your body, itching to feel him, and before you know it, your hands close around the ribbed surface of the horns, right as he does something devilish with his mouth, and you use the grip to pull him even closer and grind against his mouth.
He looks up at you, and your eyes meet for a second. Your chest rises and falls, but he doesn't look mad.
“It feels so good,” you say, almost pleading, even though he's giving you everything.
He hums in response, because he can't talk with his mouth so closely pressed to you, before continuing like before.
When a thick finger slides into you, searching, then finding, there is no way for you to hinder the orgasm crashing into you. With a strangled cry, you come around Curtis' finger and against his mouth. Wave after wave of blinding pleasure envelopes you until the only thing you feel is the point of contact, where his finger is still working you over, and his tongue plays with your bundle of sensitive nerves. And he doesn't stop, even when it starts to become too much, and you whimper instead. When you try to push at his head and move away, he simply pulls you back.
For every orgasm after that he pulls from you; you get more delirious, but something is missing. Even with two fingers in you now, fucking you in times with his tongue, you want more.
“Curtis,” you plead, again, “I need more!“
He pulls back, kissing your cunt one last time, before sitting back on his knees. His mouth and chin are wet with you, and he licks his lips as he undoes his pants.
Curtis’ cock is, well, it's a monster, bigger than anything you've had before, bigger than your toys, and fucking gorgeous. You're scared and aroused at the same time. His massive hand closes around it, stroking it a few times, and precum leaks freely from the tip. At least it's one; you've read books where the main male characters have had two, and you're not ready for that yet.
“The ring will protect you,” Curtis says, his voice tight, clearly holding himself back. “It will only be good for you. Now turn over, on your knees, head down.”
You do as he says, nervous energy fluttering in your chest despite your previous orgasms.
Curtis places a steadying hand on your ass, and you take a deep breath as you feel the nudge of the big cockhead against your opening.
The ring might protect you from splitting in two, but it doesn't take away the feel of the delicious stretch as Curtis pushes into you. Your body somehow gives, and there is no pain, only pleasure. He takes his time. You can hear him breathing heavily behind you, and if you look over your shoulder, his eyes are fixed at the point of connection, watching your body swallow inch after inch of his cock, until he bottoms out with an almost painful groan.
He leans forward and grabs one of your hands, guiding it in under your body and pressing it up against your soft stomach, until you feel what he wants you to feel—the bulge of him.
“It fits perfectly, my lamb. You're filled to the brim with me now.”
“I- I love it!” you confess, and you keep your hand there as he starts fucking you, feeling the bulge in your belly over and over again. His heavy balls slap against your exposed cunt with every thrust, and it's so sensitive from previous orgasms that you're quickly on the brink of another again.
“I feel you, lamb, pulsing around me. Are you going to come with a demon's cock in your tight cunt?”
“Yes, Curtis!” you answer with a moan.
Suddenly, you hear him spit, and cool saliva hits your skin, right against your asshole. A moment later, Curtis' big thumb enters you there, too.
It's simply too much for you. You come like you've never come before, cursing and screaming, losing all strength in your body. Your arms and upper body lie limply against the sheets, drool seeps from your mouth, as Curtis continues to fuck you. It's a miracle you can stay on your knees, but you do it for him, because it continues even after, the pleasure he brings you over and over again never stops. It could be the fact that you're in a whole other realm, or it could be because of Curtis, or maybe both. He's unstoppable, pulling many more orgasms from you, until your head is empty of any other thoughts than that of his touch. But finally, it's his time too.
The walls of the chamber rattle and shake the louder his moans get, things fall from shelves, and you hear glass breaking somewhere. With an inhuman growl, he flips you onto your back, and then he comes inside you with a roar until it overflows, and he pulls out to continue coming over your stomach and tits, painting you and marking you with his seed.
“Mine,” he says, over and over again.
Curtis' eyelids feel heavy, but he doesn't want to sleep. Even though you're already snoring softly in his arms, he doesn't want to look away from you, his lamb. His chest has felt so hollow for such a long time, so it's a strange feeling to now have it filled with contentment and a bit of happiness.
He sent Lloyd a message that he won't be available for anything, for the foreseeable future. Curtis might have made you come multiple times tonight, but he also needs to take time to show you the realm, or more importantly, show the realm you. They need to know what their new queen looks like after all.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: Mr. Brightside - The Killers / “But it's just the price I pay”
Word Count: 235
"Why are you letting them do this?" Curtis growls, glaring at your engagement ring like it's a portent of doom. In his defense, it is certainly doom for your relationship.
"Mother and Father only ever raised me to marry well," you shrug.
"You mean 'marry rich'," he scoffs. "Do you even care for him?"
"No," you shake your head sadly. "Not even sure he's a good man. But it's the just price I pay for being raised. I owe Mother and Father."
"Do you? Because I'm pretty sure you didn't ask to be born. Didn't ask for them to be your parents."
"It's...it's how things are."
"It doesn't have to be." Curtis gently takes your face in his hands. "We can run away together."
"Love doesn't pay the bills," you lament.
"You love me?" he gasps.
"Always," you confess, tears pouring. "But how can I go against my family?"
Curtis smashes his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate, needy kiss. You open your mouth, your small moan stifled by his mouth on yours.
When he breaks the kiss, his own eyes are teary.
"Five days," he breathes. "It'll take me five days to go and get things in motion so we can be together."
"What?"
"I have a few favors to call in from people I'd hoped I'd never have to see again. But it'll be worth it. For a life with you."
Characters: Bucky Barnes (of course, he’s around for a sister series)
Warnings: cocky reader, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, pack au, implied short reader (she’s shorter than Steve. I didn’t define her height), arguments, enemies to…?, an interlude chapter
A/N: This idea was haunting me… so here we go with another a/b/o miniseries. Suffer with me.
A/N2: For my story, Steve is taller than Bucky.
Catch up here: Walking Disaster (3)
Steve straightened his back. Deep down inside, he knew one way or another, the government would find them. The alpha had simply hoped that they would find a safe place for his pack to settle down.
“Alert them. It’s time to move. Again,” Steve said, his voice rough with emotion. “The omegas will hate it.”
“You want to run?” You asked. “Where’s the confident alpha from minutes before? Did he leave?” You cocked your head to look at Steve. “We don’t run or bow in this pack. Our former alpha may have been an asshole, but the pack is strong.”
“Your pack, not ours,” Steve said. “They won’t stand up for us. The rogues who took over their territory.”
You snorted. “Dude, the way the woman from earlier was eye-fucking your friend, I think you are already part of our pack. Everyone I talked to within the last few hours was more than happy to have your people here. If you belong to our pack, we protect you.”
Bucky and Steve watch you get your phone out. You made a call informing your pack about the situation.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, watching you make a second call.
“Just wait and see,” you said, looking at Bucky. “You, go back to her. She’ll be waiting. Oh, and don’t worry. All your shit has already found its way to her home.”
“What? I…what?” Bucky wanted to ask so many questions, but time was running out on you. “What did you do?”
“Go to your mate and have dinner. If they come to her house, you are mated for three years, and about to start a family.” You shrugged when both alphas stared at you. “What?”
“Why are you helping us?” Steve asked while his friend slowly moved toward the door. “We are rogues, and you hate me.”
“As much as I hate cocky and self-centered alphas, I’m not going to rat your pack out. Do you know what I did after I left this place?” You asked.
“No. How could I?”
“I helped people in need. My friend runs an organization helping former rogues, abandoned omegas, and alphas without a pack. We will find new homes for orphans and support all our clients until they can live on their own.”
Steve looked at you. Really looked at you for the first time. He suddenly realized that there was more to discover about you. You weren’t just a fierce omega.
“They will find out that we are rogues, Y/N. The only way to escape them is to run. I can’t have my pack arrested or killed. I promised them protection, freedom, and a safe place. I can’t let them down.”
“Rogers,” you laughed in his face. “If you want to be the leader of this pack, you must stop being a pussy. Now, put this on.” You handed him a simple golden wedding band, earning a confused look from the alpha. “It’s a wedding band, not a cock ring. So, put it on and sit back down. You are the alpha of this pack and must breathe authority when they come.”
“When they come…” He repeated, panic in his voice. “They will hurt my pack. I can’t let this happen, Y/N. Not even to stay around my true mate.”
You huffed and got to work. While Steve still talked about danger, running away, and defending his pack, you pushed him toward his chair and forced him to sit down. You looped the tie he tossed on the floor earlier around his neck, straightened it, and combed his hair.
“You. Are. The. Leader.” You repeated, your voice sharp. “If you look nervous, they will see right through the lies my pack told them. They will arrest or hurt them if they find out. You don’t want to let my people down, right?”
“No… No, they are good people. They accepted me as their alpha and took my people in,” Steve replied. “I’m grateful they did not chase us away or reject us.”
“Good.” You replied, looking around the office. You straightened pillows, dusted a shelf, and fixed a few things. “Now, straighten your posture and let your cocky alpha out. We can’t have you look like an intimidated little omega.”
Steve growled at the insult. “I’m an alpha.”
“Then act like one,” you bit back, matching his glare. “And don’t forget, we are married for six months, mated for a year. You found me after our former alpha left us. You saved my pack from remaining alphaless.”
“We mated?” He questioned, one brow raised. “I didn’t even see a boob.”
“And you won’t if you get us all killed,” you said. “Now, act like we are discussing the anniversary of our mating ceremony.”
“What if they want to see your mating gown and stuff?” Steve huffed. “We are done for.”
“I have one,” you replied, your voice cracking. You looked away and sighed. “I got it from my grandmother before she passed away. She wanted me to wear it for my ceremony with John. They won’t know the difference,” you whispered, hearing commotion outside the office.
“You can’t enter…” Steve’s distressed beta tried to stop the agents from storming into the office. Steve did not rise from his seat, nor did he flinch. He looked at the men who entered his office, accompanied by his beta, and a woman screaming government.
“We are here to investigate your pack and this territory.” The woman said, stepping toward Steve’s desk. “I expect your cooperation.”
“Cooperation?” You cocked your head. “Firstly, we are always ready to cooperate with the government. But you came to our pack without an invitation or a search warrant. You scared the pups and some of our more sensitive betas. Not to mention you terrified our pregnant omegas.”
The woman eyed you warily. She didn’t expect an omega to speak up to her and the agents. “We have the right to be here and question your people.” She snapped at you.
“Oh? Did the law change overnight? I think you must observe specific, articulable facts that provide sufficient suspicion of a crime before accusing us of a crime. No member of our pack committed a crime, nor did we witness a crime.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Steve raised his hand to stop you. The woman’s eyes darkened, and she smirked at you. “You know, Sam got a ticket for illegal parking. He paid for the ticket, though.”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “We received an anonymous tip about rogues threatening this pack.”
“So, instead of offering your help and checking on our pack, you came here with armed agents. You scared my pack only because someone gave you a tip?” Steve laughed in her face. “This territory is peaceful. We don’t allow drugs, fights, or weapons. No rogue dared to cross the border, knowing we’d hand them over to the government.”
“You would?” She questioned, looking from you to Steve. The agents behind her scoffed but didn’t dare to challenge the leader of a pack without proof.
“It’s one of many rules my alpha is adamant about. We chose a quiet and peaceful life,” you said, placing your hand on Steve’s shoulder. For your pack’s sake, you played the dutiful wife and mate. “He saved us from our cowardly former alpha. He ran off with a stranger, stealing most of the pack’s money.”
“He stole from the pack?” She asked, looking at Steve. “Do you have proof?”
“I have bank documents and legal papers.” You said without missing a beat. One phone call earlier provided you with anything you’d need to fool the government. “We considered legal steps, but…” You sighed dramatically and placed your hand on your belly. “Our pack only wants to be left alone. A process and confrontation would’ve disturbed our way of life.”
“I understand,” she said. “I still need to see those papers. We had different information.”
“Of course,” you said with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You knew, the moment the agents stepped into the office, that John was behind all this. You assumed he didn’t like how the deal played out for him. “We are happy to help. Do you need to talk to our pack members too?”
“We already did,” she replied, barely hiding her disdain. “They told us the same thing. No one saw a rogue. No crimes were committed. Everyone is just…happy.” She said the last word through gritted teeth.
“Well, that’s the truth.” You shrugged. “You can investigate further, but please bring a search warrant next time. We are friendly and peaceful, not stupid.”
“Omega,” Steve warned. He looked at the agents, his face grim. “My omega is right, though. There was no reason to scare my pack. Next time, we will consider legal actions.”
The investigation ended four hours later. Everyone in the pack was tense afterward, but no one let the truth slip. Your pack and Steve’s people kept together.
They weren’t rogues and pack members any longer. They were a union. A pack no one would dare to mess with again…
Summary: The hardest days become a little easier when someone refuses to let you fall.
Words: 610
Status: Complete
A/N: This is based on something that actually happened with a friend of mine. Your author lives on feedback. All errors are mine.
Warnings: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader; Angst; Fluff
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. This is not written for profit.
It had been one of those days where you just needed a hug. You somehow managed to make it through by wearing a convincing smile and insisting you were fine whenever anyone asked how you were doing. No one questioned the tightness around your eyes or the sighs you could not quite keep from escaping.
One thought carried you through the day. You were spending the evening with Steve. Being with him always made the world feel a little quieter.
The two of you sat across from one another talking about nothing in particular, laughing here and there as the tension slowly eased from your shoulders. Or at least you thought it had.
Steve's expression softened. "What's wrong?"
You looked up. "What?"
"You've been somewhere else all night." He ducked his head to catch your now lowered eyes.
You forced a small smile. "I'm okay."
He did not believe you for a second. "You don't have to tell me." His voice was as gentle as ever. "But come here."
You tilted your head.
"If you're not going to talk about it," he said, opening his arms, "at least let me hug you."
Your heart melted. Smiling gratefully, you stood and crossed the room.
The moment Steve's arms wrapped around you, the carefully built walls around your emotions crumbled. A sob escaped before you could stop it. Then another. Your knees gave out beneath you.
Strong arms caught you before you could fall, effortlessly lifting you onto his lap as though there was nowhere else in the world you belonged. Steve simply held you. He wrapped you tightly against his chest and gently rocked the two of you back and forth while your tears soaked into the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
"I've got you," he whispered. Over and over. "I've got you."
You clung to him desperately, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt as though letting go might send you drifting apart completely.
Steve never loosened his embrace. He became your anchor. The steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek and the quiet certainty of his arms were the only things keeping you connected to the world while everything inside you finally broke loose.
Eventually the sobs faded into shaky breaths. The tears stopped. Only the trembling remained. Embarrassed, you shifted slightly. "I should…"
Steve tightened his arms just enough to stop you. "No."
You looked up at him.
He hugged you tighter to him. "Just stay here a while."
You searched his face. There was not an ounce of judgment there. Only concern. Only patience.
Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispered. "I'll watch over you."
Something about those words settled the last of the storm inside you. You relaxed completely against him.
Once he was sure you were no longer falling apart, his embrace softened. One hand slowly traced comforting circles across your back while the other gently combed through your hair. He never stopped rocking. The motion was slow and steady, as dependable as everything else about him. After a while Steve began humming softly.
You did not recognize the tune. It did not matter. It was warm. Comforting. Safe.
Your eyelids slowly grew heavier. You fought to stay awake, not wanting to become one more thing Steve had to take care of tonight. The battle did not last long. Your breathing evened out. Your body relaxed completely against his.
Steve smiled to himself and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Sweet dreams," he whispered. Still holding you securely against his chest, he continued humming as sleep finally claimed you, content to keep watch for as long as you needed.
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Summary: You think Bucky Barnes is just the quiet tenant from down the street, the one with the terrible apartment and a growing list of repairs. Bucky thinks you are the first good thing the world has put within reach in seventy years. And he has spent far too long with empty hands not to reach back.
Word Count: 1.5k
Soft-dark!Bucky, who does not decide to become selfish all at once. It happens slowly. Naturally. Almost innocently.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who moves into a cheap apartment with bad pipes, warped cabinets, thin walls, and a front door that sticks unless he throws his shoulder into it.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hates the apartment, then hates himself for hating anything that has running water, a bed, and no one waiting to strap him down.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who is coming back from the grocery store one afternoon when the paper bag splits open in front of the hardware store.
Soft-dark!Bucky, whose oranges and plums roll across the sidewalk, whose bread lands in the gutter, whose jaw clenches so hard it aches because he feels exposed.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hears, "Oh, shit, hold on," before he sees you.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who finds you crouching in front of him with two of his oranges in your hands, wearing the store apron, your hair a little windblown from dragging the discount chalkboard onto the sidewalk.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who sees you clicking your tongue at the ruined bag and saying, "These things are useless. Come in, I'll give you a better one."
Soft-dark!Bucky, who follows because he has nowhere else to put the groceries, and because you have his bread under your arm and the oranges in your apron’s pocket.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who, when you ask if he lives close by, says he just moved into the building down the block.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who adds, after a beat, that the place is falling apart.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who notices the smell of cut wood, dust, metal shelving, floor cleaner, and underneath all of it, something that is only yours.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who notices the little nick on your thumb, the smudge of chalk on your wrist, the way you push a drawer shut with your hip.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who leaves with a reusable canvas bag, his groceries, and the sound of your voice circling in his head.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who lies awake that night replaying it -your hip against the drawer, the small huff of breath when you stood up too fast, the care when sorting his stuff inside the bag-.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who tells himself he needs a screwdriver the next day.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who already has two.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who goes and buys it anyway.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who comes in while you’re restocking lightbulbs and pretends to study wall anchors like he knows a damn thing about wall anchors.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who does not smile often, but does when you say, "Oh, hi again. How’s the disaster apartment?” because you remembered him, because you’ve kept him in your thoughts.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who goes home and sets the screwdriver in an empty laundry basket by the door.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who does not fix the loose cabinet handle.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who goes back two days later for painter’s tape.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who buys sandpaper the day after that.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who buys a level, a box of screws, two cabinet knobs, felt pads, a wrench he does not need, a flashlight, wood glue, replacement washers, a tape measure, and a little packet of brass picture hooks.
Soft-dark!Bucky, whose apartment remains exactly the same.
Soft-dark!Bucky, whose basket fills slowly with small, useless proof that he has reasons to see you.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts knowing your shifts without meaning to.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who tells himself it is not stalking if he only notices.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who notices you always work the afternoon shift, notices you drink your coffee too sweet and too cold because you keep forgetting about it behind the counter, and notices your smile changes when you are being polite instead of pleased.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts walking past the store even when he has nothing to buy.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who pauses at the window if you are near the front.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who tells himself he is checking whether you got home safe when he sees you leave after closing.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who keeps enough distance that you never turn around.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hates himself the first time.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who does it again the next night.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who tells himself the city is dangerous, that men are dangerous, that he knows exactly what a dangerous man looks like because he was one - because maybe he still is one- because maybe that's exactly why he's the only one who could keep you safe.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who watches a contractor lean over the counter one Tuesday, with an elbow planted too close to your hand, voice low and easy in a way that has nothing to do with hardware.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who stands by the paint chips with a strip of color samples he doesn't need, watching the back of that man's neck, doing the kind of math he was trained to do in a different context. Distance, angle, how many seconds.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has never had much.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has had his body stolen, his mind fried, his name erased.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has spent decades being emptied out and then handed back to the world, and expected to act grateful there was anything left.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts thinking, quietly and then not quietly enough, that maybe he deserves one good thing.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who knows that is a selfish thought.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who lets himself have it anyway.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hears “Bucky” from your lips and feels something inside him sit up like a starving dog.
Soft-dark!Bucky, whose body remembers want before his mind permits it, a pressure in his loins when you reach for something on a high shelf and the hem of your skirt rides up, gone as fast as it came, leaving him furious at himself for noticing, for wanting, like wanting were still a thing that got him punished.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts imagining you saying his name in his apartment, against his throat instead of across a counter.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts imagining you barefoot in his kitchen, wearing one of his shirts, complaining about the cabinet handle he still has not fixed.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who starts imagining what your hands would feel like against his chest, his back, then lower.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has to leave the store early one afternoon because the thought arrives too vivid, too sudden, and his body answers before he can stop it.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who stands in an alley two blocks away, breathing hard like it's a flashback, except this one he doesn't want to end.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who does not think of taking you, but of bringing you home.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who knows exactly how that sounds.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who still comes into the store with his careful voice and his tired eyes and his useless little purchases.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who lets you tease him about becoming the most prepared tenant in Brooklyn.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who says, “Something like that.”
Soft-dark!Bucky, who is gentle with you every time he sees you.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who carries heavy boxes from the delivery truck because the kid scheduled to help called in sick.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who fixes the jammed back door in twelve seconds and pretends not to understand why you look impressed.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who walks you to the corner in the rain to take a cab because he has an umbrella and you do not.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who looks almost boyish when you say, “You’re sweet, you know that?”
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has been called many things.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has never believed that one.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who goes home shaking because you touched his arm when you said goodbye.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who sits on the edge of his bed for an hour with that touch burning through his sleeve, then gives in -finally, helplessly- to wanting, his metal hand braced on the headboard as the other strokes his aching cock.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hates how easy it is now. How fast his body answers for you when it answered for no one, nothing, for seventy years.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who thinks about the alley behind the store, the broken security light, and the back entrance you forget to lock until after counting the register.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who thinks about how easy it would be.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hates that he knows how easy it would be.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who shows up the next day pale and quiet, buys a single pack of picture hooks.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who stares at your lips while you ring him up.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who listens to you talk about a customer, about the weather, about the chalkboard falling over again in the wind.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has to look away first when your gaze finds his, even if he has never had to look away first from anything in the last few decades.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who thinks you have no idea how close you are to being his.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who smiles when you hand him the receipt.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who says, “See you tomorrow.”
Soft-dark!Bucky, who means it like a promise.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who stands there in the dim apartment, surrounded by all the things he bought from you and never used, and realizes the basket was never full of repairs, but full of steps.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who looks at all that and understands he bought a home in pieces before he knew who he was making it for.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who finally fixes the cabinet handle.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who makes the apartment quieter, softer, less broken.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who hangs the brass hook by the door and imagines your coat there.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who tells himself he can make it all nice for you, that you’ll be scared at first, but only at first.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has survived too much to keep being empty-handed.
Soft-dark!Bucky, who has decided that the world has taken enough from him, and that this time, when it places something good within reach, he is not giving it back.
On this sinful Sunday, I cannot tame my whore muse, who is currently frothing over the idea of a scary alpha DA!Andy, who’s affiliated with the mob. Not quite a mob boss himself, but very well respected and connected.
And feared.
They call him The Magician because he makes problems—and people—disappear 😥🫣
Andy has spent most of his life and all of his energy building up his career (both public facing and less savory back channels) and his reputation. He’s never had much time or interest in dating.
If he has a scratch, he itches it. If he goes into an unexpected rut, he has a very reputable and discreet escort he turns to.
But then you fall into his lap…
You’re innocent bystander collateral damage for one of his back channel clients. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something you shouldn’t have.
So naturally, Andy’s client gave him a call and the location of the abandoned warehouse where you’re currently chained up.
When Andy arrives in his expensive suit, his jaw tight and his eyes steely, he doesn’t expect to find the prettiest omega he’s ever seen curled into a ball on the floor and giving him the scaredest, sweetest 🥺 face ever.
As Andy moves closer and gets a whiff of your delectable scent, and hears your voice for the first time as you tremble, “Please, I won’t say anything, I promise.” the rumbled observation is out of Andy’s mouth before he can stop it—
“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”
You swallow nervously as he crouches before you, his musky alpha scent immediately filling your nose and making you a little dazed.
You don’t even recoil when Andy gently pets your head, or when he brushes his fingers down your throat then pulls aside the collar of your shirt so he can see your mating gland.
His inner alpha rumbles its satisfaction when your unmarked skin is revealed, and Andy decides it would be such a waste to get rid of you.
As you tentatively lean into his touch without realizing it, his lips tilt up into an almost smile. You’re so docile, and responsive to him already, and he’s worked so hard for so long, he deserves a spoil of war.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Andy husks.
You shiver at the deep baritone of his voice, still taken aback by how beautiful he is. “Yes, alpha,” you whisper.
Andy hums, his knuckles drawing up along the curve of your throat before his thumb is pressing against the softness of your lower lip. “I like that word on these pretty lips, especially directed at me.” His thumb trails back and forth along your lip, his electric blue eyes meeting yours. “Do you know why they sent me here, honey?”
Your eyes fill with tears as your breath catches, and your voice nearly breaks as you answer, “To hurt me?”
“To kill you,” Andy corrects, shushing you as a pitiful, terrified whine spills past your lips. “But I don’t think I need to resort to such extreme measures,” he coos. “Not with you. Because you’ll be good for me, won’t you, my sweet, obedient omega?”
And what can you do but nod and accept your fate?
“Come on,” Andy says as he rises to his feet and takes you with him. His nostrils flare when he gets a whiff of your sweet, relieved scent, a pleased purr rumbling the back of his throat as his hands fall to cup your hips. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, sweetheart. By the end of the night, you’ll be warming my knot with my bondmark on your pretty throat.”
Despite the way your knees nearly buckle as your tears finally spill over, you know your place, and that Andy is quite literally sparing your life, so you quaver a soft, “Thank you, alpha.”
And Andy can’t help but grin at your sweet, good girl manners.
you let out a small shiver, when you step out of your work building.
tightening your jacket more around you, you start to make your long walk home.
sometimes you wish you had a car, so you don't have to do that much walking, but on the other hand, you're glad that you walk a lot since it helps your brain relax after a long day at work.
plus there's nothing better than reconnecting with nature.
just as you're a couple blocks away from your apartment you hear a whine. you stop in your tracks, wondering what that small, weak sound was.
another whine, similar to the first one has you looking down a dark alley.
you bite your lip nervously, knowing that you, a young woman shouldn’t go down an alley at this time of night but you can’t help the way your heart clenches at hearing those sounds.
you close your eyes, wondering if this will be the worst idea you’ve ever done and you might get abducted but before you can psych yourself out of it you hear another whine, louder than the last. it sounds like a… puppy.
damn it, if it's a puppy then you definitely can’t bring yourself to stand here and do nothing. especially with how it's so cold outside and it's raining. the poor puppy, is probably scared or even worse, injured.
you'll never forgive yourself if you walk past this alley, thinking that this whole thing was a trap for you or another person, but instead there was in fact a puppy sitting there, waiting for someone to come and help them.
you huff, throwing your hands in the air. you must look ridiculous to all the cars going by but you know what, what's the worse that could happen? i mean you could end up abducted or... dead but at least you died with the intention of helping a helpless animal.
you take a deep breath, wrapping your coat tighter around you, and then start walking down the alley to see if you can find whatever is sounding so hurt.
little do you know, something or someone has been watching you this whole time.
bucky sighs, running a hand down his face. today has been a long day and all he wants to do is get home, maybe call one of his regular women that will drop anything just to please him and go to sleep.
the soft sound of the rain hitting the roof of the car calms him as he looks out the window. his eyes squint when he catches a glimpse of a woman standing at the opening of an alley far up ahead.
he can’t exactly see her face until he gets closer but when he does, he sees that she’s utterly stunning.
probably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his entire life. even with her face slightly wet by the rain.
“stop the car.”
“sir?” the driver asks, looking back and seeing that bucky near enough has his head pushed up against the window.
bucky gives his driver a glance, raising his eyebrow slowly.
“yes sir.” the driver says, practically folding without bucky even having to repeat himself.
the driver quickly parks at the other side of the street to which you’re on. giving bucky a perfect view of you.
you snuggled up in your coat, standing smack in the middle of the side walk, with your eyes closed and face titled towards the dark, cloudy sky. it’s like you’re talking to yourself in your head.
what on earth are you doing?
and why is he so entranced by you that he asked his driver to suddenly park on the side of the road, when he’s meant to be on his way home after a long night of handling business?
he narrows his eyes at you, watching the way the cold air trickles out of your mouth when you huff and throw your arms in the air, and the way your mouth moves softly like you’re trying to talk yourself into doing something.
“um sir, are we waiting for someone or—”
“shh.” bucky snaps, seeing you take a deep breath, wrap your coat tighter around your body, and walk into the random, pitch black alley.
what the fuck? bucky says in his head. what is genuinely wrong with this strange but beautiful woman. without thinking, bucky opens the car door and steps out.
“sir—”
“just wait here till i get back.” bucky grunts, fixing his cuff links before slamming the car door and following you.
he doesn’t know who you are, or why you’re deciding to walk into an alley by yourself at near enough ten in the evening. but he sure is about to find out.
bucky watches you carefully.
keeping a safe distance behind you so you don't notice that there's someone in this alley with you.
he wants to know what you're doing, but for the life of him he can't figure it out.
all he's seen you do is walk slowly, your hand pressed against the rough brick wall, to help you lead your way through the dark alley. he's seen you trip over your heels a couple times, and he's also had to stop himself from lunging out to catch you.
he doesn't know why he has this sudden urge to not only follow you but to make sure that you don't get yourself hurt.
he doesn't even know you... yet.
his thoughts are interrupted when he hears a small yap. it's so small that if he wouldn't of had enhanced hearing he probably wouldn’t of heard it.
“where are you hiding?” you coo.
bucky’s brows furrow in confusion as he keeps his slow stride behind you, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his slacks.
is this the reason why you decided to walk down here?
because you heard the noise of an animal?
do you not know how easy it is for attractive women like you to get ambushed in situations like this.
bucky shakes his head in disbelief.
because if you so easily caught his eye, imagine how many eyes you’ve caught from men that walk past you on the street daily.
too bad that that’s not going to happen anymore.
you’re his. no one else is having you.
bucky’s possessive thoughts get interrupted yet again when you let out a yelp, jumping back.
bucky can’t help himself but step a bit closer to see what scared his girl and if he needs to intervene.
his concerns cease to a stop when you suddenly kneel down and stand up cradling a small, dirty and damp puppy.
you don’t think you could’ve ever forgiven yourself if you ended up stepping onto that puppy, even though it would’ve been accidentally.
you didn’t think that it would’ve ran across your heels, and because you’re basically covered in darkness, you never even saw it coming.
you thought it was just a rat or something.
it was only when you kneeled down that you was able to catch a glimpse of its big brown eyes and its wet nose, and then you knew you found it.
and you’re so happy you did.
“oh look at you, you’re filthy.” you whisper to the small puppy in your arms.
“how can someone be so cruel to just leave you here.” tears start to cloud your vision, at the thought of someone dumping this poor, helpless animal in an alley to die.
you don’t get how some people can be so mean.
you shrug your coat off, wrapping the material around the puppy’s small frame. not even caring about the harsh chill that comes to your arms.
you stand up with it bundled in your arms and start to make your walk back through the alley.
you keep your head down, even once you’ve emerged from the narrow alley. your eyes focused on the precious bundle in your arms and not even noticing the figure that is walking straight towards you.
you gasp when you bump into someone’s chest, and you gasp again when you feel the warmth of a palm settling on your arm to stop you from toppling over.
“oh i’m so sorry.” you apologise, sidestepping the tall man and not even giving him a second glance.
your priority is getting home and calling the nearest vet immediately.
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
The entire way to Berlin Bucky’s mind raced. All he could think of was you. Lisichka, his fox. Waiting for him in that cold cemetery. Waiting for him to show up. Part of him prays you eventually move on, keep going without him. Maybe find a place to settle. Lay low. But he knows that was impossible. Black Widow had dumped Hydra’s files on the internet, including the ones about you. Someone somewhere would find you and use what you could do for their selfish reasons. It made his stomach roll the thought of you being forced to heal person after person as it took its mounting toll on you. A shaky breath left him as the back of the truck opened, light flooding his vision. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles weren’t strong enough to hold him but he was tired of fighting. He’d never get free from here and to you without being traced. No, in his desperation he would forget every precaution on account to get to you faster.
“Winter Soldier huh? Doesn’t look too intimidating like this,” he heard a guard grumble in German. It made him look forward to where Steve was stepping out of a black van with Sam. No longer in his uniforms, of course they had been given the chance to change. Prisoners didn’t get that luxury. There was something in Steve’s eyes when they met that made him falter. He expected anger, pity, and sympathy. But there was something else he couldn’t name.
Until he saw you being dragged out a van that parked behind the one Steve had gotten out of. His heart slammed in chest seeing your tear stained cheeks, the scrape on one of them. Fury pumped through his veins and the cuffs creaked under his growing unrestrained anger. They had gotten to you. Had hurt you, scared you, and by the way Steve was snapping at a man in a suit, handling you just as roughly as they were him. He would’ve broke free right there, would’ve ignored the current of electricity that prickled at his skin when he fought against the restraints. But then you gave him the most subtle shake of your head. One no one would’ve noticed, would’ve chalked it off to you gathering your bearings, but Bucky knew what it meant. So even though it killed him he relaxed back into his seat. Watched them as they kept dragging you away, a satisfaction filling him seeing how you dug your feet and made their job as possible. Until the collar around your neck buzzed to life and you fell to the ground, muscles tensed and shaking with the electricity no doubt being burned through you. Steve yelled something as he strode over and Bucky jolted against his restraints.
“His Fox,” the guard sneered, “probably his chew toy with Hydra.”
He scowled as they pushed him away, only looking away when he saw Steve help you sit up all while yelling at the man in the suit. Good. Steve was on your side. You had him. If he even suspected you were something to Bucky, he knew Steve would guard you with his life just as he would. You would be fine. So he let out a breath he was holding and leaned his head back against the headrest.
“I’m not letting you take her into a damn cell,” Steve snapped, “she’s a victim.”
Ross wasn’t letting up, no matter how much you fought. How many more shocks they gave you even if Steve fought against each one. Eventually he had convinced them to let you go with him. He was a super soldier, you weren’t. He could handle you. The files said you could heal, nothing more. So why did they keep treating you like a weapon? His question was answered when he noticed how they had made Bucky’s pod linger enough to see what they were doing to you. They were trying to control him using you, it made Steve seethe. How many times has Hydra done that? They were supposed to be better but he saw nothing but the same behavior with a different facade.
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked once your cuffs were moved from behind your back to connect to the table in front of you. Your head rested against the cool surface of the table and Steve pressed his lips together.
“Barnes is fine,” Tony’s voice said, sharing a glance with Steve.
One glance at you and Tony ripped up his copy of the Accords, telling everyone he could off, before locking himself into the interrogation room where Steve, Sam, and Sharon had holed up. He had tried to pick the lock on your collar but that just earned you another shock.
“Do you know?” You whispered, looking at Tony with tired eyes, “what he did?”
“I know it all,” Tony answered and looked at Steve.
That night had been…hard. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of fighting, but even more sobbing. It wasn’t easy telling Tony the truth about how his parents had died. But after a while it turned into resolve. A clear head. And helping Steve with the search. Even if the Accords had been a bump in the road.
“Then you know he won’t be fine,” You whispered, weakly tugging at the handcuffs. Steve had nearly wrung someone’s neck when he caught a glance at how bruised and raw your wrists were.
“We’ll get him good lawyers, a plea–”
“They’ll never let him free,” your voice trailed off as you stared at the screen that now was occupied with the footage from Bucky’s cell.
Bucky should’ve known this psychiatrist was full of shit when he sat down in his badly tailored suit. Should’ve known when the power went out and he didn’t start to freak out about being in a room with the Winter Soldier who could use that opportunity to get free. But then he started saying those words, those fucking words, and he could feel himself slipping. Feel the darkness trying to take hold even as he fought back. No, this couldn’t happen. Not while they still had her. Not while he still had to save her.
I can save her, the dark purred. Bucky’s lip trembled as he felt himself slip away and into the Soldier.
When the glass door fell through and the glass cracked Bucky fell to his knees, but it was the Soldier that stood back up.
“Soldat?” The man asked. His head tilted towards him. “Mission Report, December 16th, 1991.”
“Where is she?” He growled, taking a step closer.
“Ready to comply, Soldat? Mission report–” He didn’t let the man finish his sentence as he wrapped his metal hand around his throat.
“Where. Is. She.”
Guards flooded the room but he only had one thought in his mind, Lisichka, he had to get to her before they sent her to sleep again. So he tossed the man aside and turned towards the doors. He took them down easily, one by one, sometimes two at a time. But they fell as he made his way through them. The man tried to call him back, called him and tried to say the words again. But he had his mission. Knew what he had to do. Nothing would stop him.
You watched the chaos around you, still cuffed to the table even as everyone scrambled when Sharon said something you weren’t listening to. You gave a tug but burning shot up your arm. A hiss escaped you and that caught Natasha’s attention. The former Black Widow who had sat by your side and not moved until the chaos began.
“Oh for fucks sake, Tony her cuffs,” Natasha snapped.
“Dammit,” Tony cursed and whatever enveloped his hand shot a beam of right that freed your wrists. “Stay here.”
“I can help,” you said as you stood, “I can stop him.”
“He’s not himself,” Natasha warned but started leading you towards wherever Bucky had gone, you knew.
“I can stop him,” you said softly.
Natasha was a powerful force in the chaos. It parted ways for her to walk through, you behind as he held your hand in a loose hold. One you could easily break but you wouldn't without Bucky and she could take you to him. Wherever she was taking you, the chaos was getting louder. Gunfire, fighting, things breaking. Then he was there. Powerful, volatile, feral. All things the Winter Soldier was not Bucky. But you still nodded to Natasha. Tony stunned him and that was when Natasha pushed you forward.
Bucky whipped around, ready to continue the fight, but lowered the gun when he caught sight of you. He grabbed a guard who ran at him by the throat, tossing him aside like a wet reg and closed the space between the two of you.
“Lisichka,” he whispered, his voice gravelier and more ragged than when he wasn’t in the Soldier state of mind. His flesh hand dropped the gun and rose to cup your cheek. His thumb traced over the tear stains still there.
“Bucky,” you said softly, your hand rising to grab his hand but he quickly drew it back knowing what you were instinctively going to do.
“We need to go,” he said.
“We can be safe here,” you said, glancing at Steve, “he can help us.”
“I need to protect you,” he said, glowering down at you but you knew it was how he showed worry.
“And you will,” you said, “do you trust me?”
“With everything,” Bucky breathed out.
“Then come with me,” You said, grabbing his metal hand.
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
That morning had been quiet. When Bucky had rolled over the first thing he saw was you. Your hair fanned out against the pillow, sticking up in different directions, and your face slack with sleep. Before he could stop it he felt a soft smile tug at his lips as he brushed some of your hair back. Some light was bleeding through the newspaper he had covered the windows with but the apartment was still dim. Cold. So when he slipped out of bed he made sure to pull the covers tightly over you. He walked over to the meager kitchen and looked around. He’d need to go out to the market for more things. Sooner rather than later. He could go and make it back before you woke up but he hated leaving you alone whenever it was time to settle in a new place.
“Bucky?” Your voice was raspy with sleep.
“Hm?”
“Market?”
“Didn’t know mind reading was a skill you had too,” he said as he rounded the breakfast bar.
“You’ve been staring at the bare cabinets for the last few minutes,” you said, sitting up, “so, a little trip to the market?”
“I can go–”
“And leave me here? No.”
“It’s cold outside,” he said softly, “that jacket you have doesn’t warm you up much.”
The sight of you in the thin jacket you managed to steal made him think of a thin frame back in Brooklyn. Of shaking hands and pulling scarves tighter around pale throats. It made his heart clench but the look in your eye told him he was going to lose that battle so he relented. Let you layer yourself up, watching in interest as you grabbed a hold of one of his blue henleys. It swallowed you whole but he watched as you pulled it over your head anyways.
“Won’t be cold anymore,” you said with a shrug, pulling on your jacket, “market?”
“Yeah, market,” he breathed out.
The walk was quiet. You two didn’t need many words most of the time. Words got you in trouble with Hydra, and trouble meant punishment. When you were still in their hold you both would find different ways to communicate. Knocks. Glances. Even breathing patterns. Things that they wouldn’t pick up on. Things he used to try to protect you, things you used to try and break past his programming. With the extra layer you weren’t shivering as much but he could still the chill still bit at your skin. He’d have to buy or steal you a new jacket soon. Stealing had a risk of getting caught, getting caught was not an option.
“What should we get?” You hummed, motioning for a fruit stand, “more plums?”
Bucky walked over to where you motioned, keeping you in the corner of his eyesight as you leaned over to look at the flowers. After a while you tapped him, pointing towards a deep freeze with the words ICE CREAM painted on the side. You stared at him and he motioned with his head for you to go on. Not that you needed a command or permission, but Bucky knew it made you feel better to know he was watching; aware of where you were heading. Just as he was done and getting ready to cross and meet you, he could feel a prickle on his neck. The sensation that told him he was being watched. He could see a man in a small newspaper stand staring at him, then glancing down, then back at him. Shit. With a quick glance up to make sure you were still safe, Bucky walked towards you. Yet the man jumped back, eventually running out of the booth. You were still deep in thought staring at the ice creams. Bucky brushed past, grabbing the newspaper the man had discarded.
The sight made his blood run cold. The headline was about him and some bombing, but he had been here with you. The words hadn’t triggered him and you sure as hell wouldn’t have done it to him. He abandoned the paper and turned, grabbing your upper arm and starting to walk briskly back towards the apartment.
“Bucky?” You questioned, struggling to keep up. Part of him felt bad, the other part screamed in urgency that he needed to get out of there. He needed to get you out of there.
“You remember what to do if I got recognized?” He asked and you stopped walking.
“What are you saying?”
“Do you remember?” He stressed, staring down into your eyes for a desperate moment.
“Yes,” your voice was small, scared. He gave you a tight nod.
“I’m sorry, Lisichka,” he breathed out, pushing something into your hand, “but I will find you, okay? Just follow the plan.”
The plan. The plan. Your mind was racing as Bucky turned you away from him and gave you a gentle shove to get you going. Right, the plan. The plan you two came up with upon arriving at every new location. This time it hadn’t been any different. Roundabout route to final destination, a few intertwined stops to get anyone following you to fall behind, and finally the location you had set on to meet at. It changed every time. Sometimes it was a hostel, other times it was a park. This time something twisted in your stomach as you remember where it was this time. A cemetery. Who would bother a mourner? Yet you didn’t get far into your route before you were yanked backwards with a hand on your mouth. The cry you let out had been muffled against a tactical glove. Tactical gloves. Everywhere your eyes shifted you saw helmets, armor, guns. Your eyes burned. You had been caught. Bucky would get away and while you knew, you knew he’d come back for you, how long would it take this time?
The man was snapping at you in a language you didn’t understand. Eventually they roughly turned you around and pressed you against a wall hard enough to crush the breath out of your lungs and snap cuffs on your wrist and a collar around your neck. It made your movements limited and a whimper escaped your throat. The brick scraped at the soft skin of your cheek. The red color was the same as the matching red henley Bucky had on. Would you see him again? Or was this the end for you two? They only pulled you off the brick long enough to throw you into a waiting van.
Your mind was racing. Even as the van jolted to a start and tears poured down your cheeks your mind was on Bucky. If he made it. What would he think when he realized you didn’t? Or did he think you would’ve run away without him? No, no Bucky wouldn’t think that. But the cuffs were too tight around your wrist and the collar was starting to feel suffocating. You managed to push yourself onto one of the seats in the back of the van, watching the city fly by as it raced down the streets. As soon as the van stopped you tumbled to the side, crying out as you struggled to stop from falling onto the floor. When the doors flew open the last person you expected to see on the other side of them was Captain America being shoved into the van with you. Albeit, his entrance was much more graceful than yours.
“Fuck,” Another man cursed as he was pushed in before the doors were slammed shut. Your eyes snapped between the two of them rapidly. Captain America easily snapped his cuffs off and removed his helmet. Steve. Steve. This was Bucky’s Steve. You had peaked in Bucky’s journals before, looking over his shoulder as he scribbled. His best friend. His brother. Yet when he looked over at you all you could do was swallow and stare.
“You have to be shitting me, there’s no way,” The other man asked but your throat ran dry as your lips moved but nothing came out.
“Wait,” Steve’s voice was tired, rough, but there was recognition in it, “Fox?”
You shook your head, no. They couldn’t know about you. No one but the higher ups in Hydra,, your handler, and Bucky knew about you. You were a secret never meant to get out. An experiment that could repeated when you eventually gave out.
“No,” you whispered, “no you’re not supposed to know me.”
“That’s why he went back to D.C.,” the other man said as Steve snapped the chain holding his cuffs together, “before disappearing for good. He went back for her.”
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked.
“You’re alright,” Steve said softly, helping you sit upright. His touch was gentle, so much like Bucky’s and nothing like the men who threw you in there. When he moved towards your handcuffs you were pushed away from him. If they took yours off you’d be in trouble, trouble meant punishment. And there was no Bucky to save you.
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked again.
“We’ll get you to him,” Steve said gently, “they won’t keep him.”
And just like that your worst fear had come to life. Bucky had been caught. You had been caught. There was no one coming to save you this time.
FRAGMENTS OF A LONELY TIDE [masterlist]
dockworker!bucky barnes x mermaid!reader
— ⟢ SUMMARY: a grumpy dockworker reluctantly rescues you—a stranded, wounded mermaid—with every intention of sending you back to the sea once you’ve healed. until the idea of losing you becomes something he can no longer bear.
— ⟢ GENERAL WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI; bucky’s in his 40s; grumpy!bucky (starts off rude and cold); protective!bucky; sunshine!reader; injuries & blood; angst; loneliness; temporary feelings denial; mutual pining; heavy yearning; domestic fluff; smut. each part has its own specific warnings.
A/N: this was originally supposed to be a one-shot part of a collection inspired by that picture of seb up there, but the plot got a little out of hand. and honestly? I don’t feel like cutting scenes just to fit tumblr’s ridiculous 1000-block limit. so here we are! hope you’ll enjoy 🌊
the art of devotion masterlist
⤷ PARTS
༄.° PART 1 — 10/06
༄.° PART 2
༄.° PART 3
important notes: this series will have its own dedicated taglist! that being said, I’ll also be tagging my general bucky barnes taglist, so if you’d like to be notified about all of my bucky-related fics rather than just this series, that option is available too. if you are interested, please read this post here first!
Summary: You're a hockey reporter who is diabetic. You're in the middle of interviewing the assistant captain, James 'Bucky' Barnes, and end up passing out where you are taken to the hospital from your low blood sugar. When you're released, the assistant captain obsesses over your health and breaks their self-imposed 'no dating colleagues in the league' rule because he can't seem to get you out of his head.
Content warning: Reader is diabetic (I am not diabetic myself but a lot of people I know are so this is my observation of the disease), star assistant hockey captain Bucky with a left arm tattoo sleeve who is obsessed over you, little hockey talk/terms, bff Scott, and FLUFF.
"Ready for the interview?" Your cameraman and sound engineer Scott asked.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
You adjusted the microphone and the lapels of the blazer you wore while steadying yourself. The head coach of the team, Tony Stark came out of the dressing room to speak with the media.
He coached your city's hockey team, The Shield and had just won their second game of the playoffs.
"Mr. Stark." You put your hand up to ask your question.
Tony glanced at the crowd of reporters and rolled his eyes. It was a well-known fact that he hated doing any kind of interview but was always forced to because of his position. Usually, the assistant coach covered for him, but Phil Coulson was still in the locker room, and everyone in the media room was getting restless.
"Ms. Y/ln." Tony pointed to you.
"Yes, thank you coach. Congratulations on your win tonight. How do you prepare the team going into tomorrow night's game knowing you're up two games to none and heading into an environment that is hard to play in?"
"Hydra isn't a team to be taken lightly. They attack the neutral zone strong, their defense is solid, and their fanbase are rabid. We're ready and looking forward to playing there." Tony smirked at you.
You nodded and let the press conference finish.
Once he left the podium, you waited to see what two players the team was going to send out. You adjusted your microphone and looked at Scott who gave you the thumbs up when you saw two players come out and sit at the table.
Steve Rogers, Captain, and James Barnes, assistant captain.
Of course it was them.
The only player in the entire league that made you more nervous than Steve Rogers was James 'Bucky' Barnes. James was always a relentless flirt whenever you interviewed him, having to keep yourself composed and neutral was the hardest part of your job. None of the other guys on the team and in the league for that matter made you stutter, fumble with your microphone, or blush more than him and it annoyed you.
You were a professional and having a star athlete make you nervous was a rookie move.
Seeing them both freshly showered with dripping hair and flushed faces only made your insides contract and face heat while they settled themselves in the chairs. You looked over your questions you wanted to ask and sighed before you raised your hand up.
"Yes?" James winked at you while Steve chuckled.
"How do you prepare for the next two games knowing you're going to be playing in a hostile environment?"
Steve shrugged and said, "We're prepared just fine. Their arena and fans don't bother us one bit."
Steve looked over at James who agreed making the people in the room chuckle.
Cocky bastards.
A few more questions were asked by other reporters when you raised your hand up again.
"Yes?" Steve asked.
"Question for James. You took a puck to the ankle in the 2nd with that nasty slapshot you blocked. Do you have any concerns with it for the next game?"
James glared at you for a brief second before he scoffed and said, "It's all good. Nothing to worry about."
You glanced at one of their trainers who was in the room and he rolled his eyes. You made a note to probe further once the press conference was done.
🏒🍫🍁
"Did you see Y/n sniffing around Parker, asking him about your ankle?" Steve asked Bucky who was putting some things away in his locker.
"No, I didn't."
Bucky side-eyed his friend and captain wondering why he was watching you. Of course you were asking about the puck he blocked, or rather his ankle accidentally getting in front of a slap shot from the point.
His ankle was currently swollen like a balloon and was showing off the colours of the rainbow in which he would need to ice the shit out of it when he got home. Peter and the training staff cautioned him not to mention the injury to anyone.
James smiled to himself.
You had been in the back of his thoughts all god damn season with your shiny hair, expressive eyes, and pretty smile, but you're off limits. He doesn't date reporters or anyone close to the hockey world as he likes to keep that separate from his private life, but you were proving to be a challenge for his self-imposed rule.
"Probably looking at digging up information to expose your weakness to Hydra. Be careful with that one." Steve cautioned making Bucky chuckle.
"It's not fucking espionage Steve, it's hockey. They know I got dinged in the ankle so they may go after me next game. It's payoff hockey." Bucky shrugged, putting a few things in a bag then locking his cubbie in his locker stall.
The team was flying out the following afternoon to Jersey, so he had made sure to give the equipment guys what they needed to pack before he left the arena.
🏒🍫🍁
"You're all packed then?" Scott asked while you lingered in the hallway of the arena.
"Looks like it."
You were looking over your itinerary for the away games you were going to be covering. You stood with a few other reporters and radio announcers while waiting for your bus to the airport. Reporters, media, and team employees usually travelled with the team and for the playoffs, there seemed to be a few more who were along for the trip. You looked at the time and saw you had about 10 minutes before the bus was scheduled to pull up.
"I'm just going to check my blood sugar."
You stepped aside and used your scanner on your arm. The beep of the app sounded, and you looked at the screen and saw it read 5.6.
"Thank god." You mumbled. You had been having a hard time with your sugar levels lately so seeing a normal readout for the first time in a while was a relief.
"Bus is here." Scott announced down the hall.
🏒🍫🍁
You boarded the plane and sat in the front where media had their assigned seats. You watched as the players boarded in their suits; some acknowledged you and some walked by. Even though the league has relaxed their dress code rules, the team still travels wearing suits, something they decided to do as a group.
You had to admit, seeing the players in their suits was the highlight whenever you travelled with them. An even better perk to the job that no one knows about was, once the players boarded the plane, most, if not all, stripped out of their suits and changed into comfy clothes in the middle of the aisle for the flight.
When you first started with the team, you had sat down in your seat, but you forgot your notebook in your carryon, so you got up to get your bag in the overhead bin. You stood and looked to the back of the plane where a few of the guys stood shirtless in the aisle and were changing.
You almost dropped your bag on Scott seeing their toned bare chests and underwear clad bottoms in the aisle. You immediately sat in your seat clutching your bag to your chest with a red face making Scott chuckle at your reaction. He thought it would be funny not to tell you they did that for your first away game.
Yeah, really hilarious Scott, but you're used to it now.
Now, you try not to sneak a peek when the assistant captain shucks off his white dress shirt exposing his tattooed left arm sleeve, then slowly folds it and places it in his bag while making eye contact you the entire time; something he does on every flight.
Like you told yourself countless times before, cocky bastard.
🏒🍫🍁
You watched the practise at the Hydra arena in Jersey with Tony Stark barking plays and line combinations out to the players while they skated. From your observation the team looks dialed in and ready as they skated their drills.
"Y/n?" Wanda Maximoff tapped you on the shoulder.
"Hi Wanda."
She stood next to you with her tablet and cell phone in hand. For being the teams head of PR and social media, she was remarkably always put together.
"I've secured you a one-on-one interview tomorrow after the game. We want it to be fun and playful for our socials"
"Oh? With whom?"
Inside, you were wishing it was ANYONE but James Barnes.
"Barnes."
Crap.
"Sounds good."
You usually liked doing one-non-one interviews with the players but anytime you interview James Barnes one-on-one, it was always challenging for you since he flirted relentlessly with you.
"I'll email you the list of questions later." She tapped on her iPad and then headed down the hall to the dressing room.
🏒🍫🍁
You sat in your hotel room and went over the questions for the one-on-one Wanda had sent. The questions were straight forward, mostly cute personal ones which should be an easy breeze for you to ask. You had a bunch of food in front of you, mainly some juice boxes and chocolate bars seeing as how your blood sugar levels were lower lately.
You had made reminders in your phone to check your blood sugar levels more often for the following day since it was a game day which usually means lots of on-camera reporting and filing reports before, during, and after the game.
Add in the new interview Wanda asked you to do, and it was going to be a long day.
🏒🍫🍁
"You got all your snacks in there?" Scott pointed to your tote bag.
"Think so. I feel good today, so I'm sure I'll be ok. I just want to get my readings back to normal."
Scott knew you were diabetic and was always looking out for you. You had set yourself up for your pre-game coach's interview.
You saw James Barnes saunter down the hall in his workout shorts, flip flops, and long-sleeved black compression top looking mischievous.
"Y/n." He nodded at you.
"Hello." You squeaked out.
He stopped and leaned into you and said, "I'm looking forward to our one-on-one after the game." He flashed a wink at you before disappearing into the players locker room.
Scott chuckled at the face you made because it looked like shock mixed with a grimace and maybe a blush.
"Let's just get this over with." You shook that interaction off, following Scott to the interview room.
🏒🍫🍁
You had jammed a granola bar in your mouth while you went over notes, players, lines, and the pre-interview requests but it wasn't enough.
"Here."
Scott handed you half a turkey sandwich he found in the dressing room, so you managed to eat a little of it.
"Thanks."
You pushed on and did a few sound checks, reports, repositioned the camera, and did a small interview with the radio team on what to expect for the third game in the series, and by the time you had finished, the game was starting.
"You good?" Scott looked over at you, and you shrugged, saying, "I feel fine. Your sandwich helped from earlier. I'll get something after the game."
You hadn't checked your sugar levels, but you felt fine, just as you replied to a few texts from the network and started your game notes.
🏒🍫🍁
"Overtime?" You groaned watching the players from both teams exit the ice surface.
You had almost filed your game report, but Hydra scored with 2 minutes left in regulation, tying it up. Your phone was dinging with new requests for small updates to the sports shows, so you were busy filming a few of those followed by a live interview.
"You, ok?" Scott asked when he heard you groan.
"I think so."
"Let me get you something to eat..."
"There you are." Came a booming voice from behind you.
"Nick." You bravely smiled at the network executive standing in front of you even though you were starting to feel a little funny. Nick Fury owned the network you worked for, so he was technically your boss' boss and anytime he came to a game, he always wanted to meet with the reporters and media.
"Hello sir."
"Y/n. How are things going on the road for you?"
You inwardly cringed at having to stop and chat with him. He was always nice to you, but you never wanted to make him angry; he knew too many people. Scott watched you take a few steps to the side and chat with him while he ordered some food for you.
🏒🍫🍁
"Did I miss anything?" You asked, heading back to your spot after your conversation with Nick Fury.
"Nah, you're just in time." Scott replied, looking around for the food he ordered.
You settled in for the puck drop but Scott got called away by the radio crew needing him to fix something, so you were left alone. The more you watched the overtime, the more you're convinced James is injured since he didn't look like himself on the ice. Every stride and push-off he did on his skates seemed to make him wince more.
Overtime lasted only 9 minutes when Clint Barton ended up knocking in a rebound from Bruce Banner's slapshot, ending the game. The bench cleared while you watched the team celebrate on the ice with boos reigning down from the agitated Hydra crowd.
"Thank god." You said, stomach grumbling while you made you way to the hallway for the post game interviews.
🏒🍫🍁
The team sent out OT goal scorer Clint Barton and Bruce Banner, for their post game interview so you managed to ask them some questions and got your answers you were looking for.
You looked at your watch and that's when it hit you.
"Crap."
"What?" Scott looked over.
"I should eat..."
"Shit, I forgot I ordered food for you, but they must not have dropped it off since I wasn't there..."
"There you are!" Wanda smiled wide.
"Shall we?"
She escorted you to an empty room that had two chairs, a camera, and lighting set up. You had wobbled a little on your feet when you walked with her, telling yourself you were unsteady for it being late.
"I figured we may as well start now." She grasped her iPad tight.
"Right...I was about to go and get..."
"Where do you want me, ladies?" James strolled into the room, looking fresh as a daisy from the grueling game he just played.
Your eyes focused on his ankle, but you didn't see him limping or hobbling. The trainers must be magicians.
"Right here." Wanda pointed to the chair.
"And Y/n will be there." She gestured to the other chair, smiling wide.
"We'll be over there." She waved to the corner of the room where a few more social media people were.
"Right then." You cleared your voice and fumbled with your notes.
You were starting to get a little shaky.
"You, ok?"
James watched you sit but there was something off about you.
"I'm fine James." You plastered on a smile.
"Call me Bucky." He winked at you.
Your vision started blurring but you quickly blinked and the feeling had passed.
Everyone was watching you and waiting for the interview that would quickly be edited so it could get out the following day to the team's social media pages.
You cleared your throat and settled yourself in. From the questions, you figured it would only take you about 30 minutes at the most to get through all of them so you could run and grab something to eat from the restaurant at the hotel lobby before you settled in your room for the night.
🏒🍫🍁
You were listening to James reminisce about some of his playing days on his junior team when you felt your heartbeat start to race and your vision was starting to blur.
Fuck no, not now, please God.
Your shakes were getting worse and the anxious feeling mixed with dizziness had come on strong. You gripped the arm rests of the chair you were on intensely while trying to keep it together.
"So, James...telllll meeeeeeeee..."
You swayed slightly then slumped over, dropping your notes as you went down with the darkness that surrounded your vision.
"Holy shit!" Bucky blurted out.
When he walked into the room, he noticed your face was pale and you were quieter than normal. He figured you were tired from working and the slight time change, but he never thought this would happen. When he first discovered you would be the one to interview him, he was excited because it meant he got to spend more time with you.
Even though he has a self-imposed rule of no dating media or people in the business, he somehow can't seem to get you out of his head. He watched you grimace as you smiled to Wanda before starting the interview and he couldn't help but feel a little defensive thinking you were not excited about interviewing him, but he quickly realised that wasn't the case at all.
Something was off about you.
Bucky looked over at you when he was finished and he saw you sway slightly, but then your face paled then you slumped over mid-question, collapsing in the chair you sat in, notes crashing to the floor. He quickly sprang into action, helping you down to the ground, careful not to injure you.
"What's wrong with her?"
Scott came running into the room and he froze.
"Shit!" He yelled, running towards you.
"Do you know what's wrong?"
"She's diabetic. Probably low blood sugar, which can be dangerous."
He looked you over. The team doctor came running in and assessed you with the paramedics following.
"She's diabetic?" Bucky asked, looking you over.
He held your hand in his while the doctor checked on you. When the doctor lifted your arm, Bucky saw the small round disc attached to the back of your arm. He'd never noticed it before. He looked at your face and he was worried.
You were so pale and you weren't responding well to anything since you were so out of it. The paramedics strapped you to the stretcher, and you were whisked away to the hospital.
"Go with her." Wanda waved to Scott who nodded.
He followed the stretcher, leaving Bucky in the room.
"I'm sure she'll be fine." Wanda patted his arm before she left to answer some calls.
"What hospital is she going to be taken to?" Bucky asked, but no one seemed to know.
He groaned and ran a hand over his face before he ran back to the locker room, grabbing his wallet.
"Where are you off to?" Steve asked.
Bucky replied with, "I'll text you when I get there." Then he was off, typing frantically on his phone for an Uber.
🏒🍫🍁
You smelled the sterile cleaning products and instantly knew you were at the hospital. Your eyes were heavy as you struggled to open them.
"Mmfph..."
You moved slightly but it felt like your limbs weighed triple what they did.
"...Low blood sugar"
"...Dangerous..."
"...Take better care..."
Deep voices and words came in spotty patches while your mind tried to clear itself and wake up.
You moved a little more and wanted to sit up, but your right hand was blocked. You had a hard time moving it.
"...waking up..."
Your eyes fluttered open and the bright sterile room you were in came into view.
"There she is." You heard Scott's voice from your left side.
"Scott?" You mumbled.
Your eyes focused on him while you took in the view. He sat on your left side, his eyes seeming to have dark circles around them.
"You gave us quite the scare."
You blinked a few times, clearing your vision but was squinting.
"Oh, let me turn these lights down a little."
He got up and headed to the door to where a light switch was and flicked it down.
"Thanks."
You smiled at your friend and co-worker. You heard a throat clear on your right, so you looked over and froze, eyes wide.
"Bucky?" You blurted out.
"I'll go and get the doctor..." Scott tapped your side then he left the room.
"Wh-what are..." You tried sitting up but felt weak.
Why is he here?
You looked down at your right hand that he held in his, fingers laced together.
"Shh...here, let me help..."
He let go of your hand and managed to help you sit up a little in the uncomfortable hospital bed you were laying in.
"Better?" He asked, making sure your pillow was fluffed.
"Y-yeah..."
You were still confused on why the assistant captain for the Shield was next to your hospital bed, holding your hand and watching you.
"You scared me." He softly said, moving a strand of your hair from your face.
"H-how...why are you here?"
"We still have to finish our interview silly..." He smiled wide.
"Interview?"
You thought back and that's when it hit you. You passed out when you were in the middle of asking him questions.
"Our interview? Now?"
You were confused and Bucky felt bad for teasing you.
"Just teasing you sweetheart. I wanted to make sure you were ok."
You glanced out the window and found the daylight creeping through the blinds.
"What time is it?"
Bucky looked around and shrugged.
"Around 7:30 am?"
"How long..."
"Hey, hey, shh...the doctor's coming back, he can explain everything."
"You sat at my side?"
"Had nothing else going on."
"Really? You guys won in OT, no bars to visit, or parties to go to and celebrate?"
Bucky shook his head no.
"Playoffs doll. We only have one thing in mind and that's to win the cup. No parties for us until this is all over. Team pact and everything." He stated proudly.
You knew Steve Rogers and him commanded the locker room and whatever they said, the team followed which is why they've been so successful this year.
"Then why are you here? You must be so tired..."
"Surprisingly, this chair is comfortable." He adjusted his large body in it which groaned under his weight making you chuckle.
Scott walked into the room followed by a nurse and the doctor.
"Hello."
"Oh, I should head out. I've got a morning radio session to help with." Scott looked over at you and smiled.
"Glad you're back with us. I'll see you later."
He patted your foot through the blanket and left the room, leaving you there with Bucky and the hospital staff.
"You gave us all quite the scare with that low sugar level."
The doctor seemed to scold you while he was typing on his laptop.
"We managed to correct it and adjust some things, but overall, you're going to be fine. I've already sent your chart to your own doctor, and you have an appointment with them when you get back, but other than that, you should be good to leave here this afternoon."
"Ok." You lamely replied, still confused why Bucky was at your side.
"Good thing your boyfriend was here with you to keep you company."
You looked at the door where Scott was, then over at Bucky who gave you a sheepish smile. "Right, boyfriend."
Bucky reached out and held your hand in his. His very big, calloused hand that felt somehow soft in yours.
"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone. I'll be by in a few to check on you again."
The doctor flashed you a wink then tapped his nose before he left the room with the nurse following.
"I didn't know you were diabetic." Bucky quietly said.
"Yeah, well...surprise." You waved your left hand up and wiggled it like 'jazz hands' making him chuckle.
"So, boyfriend?" You raised your eyebrows up at him.
"It was the only way I could stay with you."
"You could have just left..."
"Pfft, nope. You passed out in front of me so I felt it wouldn't be right if I left you alone."
"Oh, well, thanks."
Your face flushed at his little confession.
"Everyone's going to he happy you're ok."
"Everyone?"
"You gave us all quite the scare back at the arena..."
"Sorry..." You mumbled.
"It's all good." He lifted a shoulder and sighed. "Well, I should head to the hotel to catch a little rest. Coach Stark gave me the morning practise off today."
"Sorry you had to miss that..."
You felt bad Bucky was with you all night.
Bucky squeezed your hand and made sure to get you some water on your side table before he left.
"I'll see you later." He nodded at you then headed towards the door.
An orderly had walked into the room carrying a food tray then left it on your table.
"Make sure you eat that." Bucky pointed to the tray before he left the room, leaving you alone.
🏒🍫🍁
"So, he was with me the whole night?" You asked Scott who had picked you up from the hospital.
"Yup."
"Huh."
"He had gone to two other hospitals before he found where you were. When he came into the room, he was frantic, asking the doctors about your condition and why you were still asleep. Seemed really concerned."
You were shocked.
"He told the staff he was your boyfriend so he could stay with you all night. I was there, but then I left for a few hours. When I returned shortly before you woke, he was sitting at your bed, watching you."
Scott pulled into the covered entranceway to the lobby of the hotel and stopped, helping you out.
"You don't have anything scheduled tonight. Game four is tomorrow and Fury said you don't have to cover it if you aren't feeling it. He can have someone else fill in for you..."
"I'll be there Scott. I feel fine right now. All I want to do is rest a little more, but I should be good to go for the game tomorrow."
Scott looked you over but agreed. Your colour was back and you seemed more alert and focused. Your latest sugar levels were fine from the reading you did at the hospital before you were discharged.
"Ok. Schedule is still the same. The bus will pick us up in the morning. Text me later so I know you're still ok and if you feel funky, let me know and I can get you back to the hospital, so this doesn't happen again."
"I know, and thanks Scott."
"We've upped the food and snacks for you tomorrow so you should be ok."
"I appreciate it." You waved then headed to the bank of elevators to take you to your room. You wanted a shower, to eat something, then you were ready to flop into bed for the rest of the day.
You got into your room and dropped your purse at the door, locking it. You turned and froze, seeing a giant bouquet of red roses sitting on the desk in the room. You walked to it and smiled, smelling one when you took the card and read who it was from.
"Hope you're feeling better. From Fury and associates."
You looked at the bouquet then turned and was startled. On the bedside table was a giant gift basket full of food, snacks, fruit, crackers, and drinks.
"Woah." There was a card taped to the cellophane.
"This should be enough to get you through for tomorrow. Remember to take care of yourself. Bucky. PS – We still have to finish our interview."
You smiled and chuckled, examining the basket of food. Well, between this and the food Scott has ordered, you should be ready to go.
🏒🍫🍁
You worked game four without issue seeing the Shield win and sweep their playoff series with Hydra. Scott had almost over ordered on food and snacks for you and made sure you updated him on your sugar levels which were back to normal thanks to the time you made yourself. You scolded yourself for not taking care of your condition since you have lived with it most of your life.
You did your post game interviews and filed your reports as normal when you saw Bucky walk up to you in the hallway.
"Are you doing, ok?" He asked, his blue eyes searching your face.
"I'm fine, thank you. And thanks for the basket of food. I hope I can get it all packed in my bag to take home with me." You teased making him chuckle.
"Good, I'm glad."
He leaned in close when an equipment manager wheeled a large crate behind you. You were able to smell his cologne from his shower.
"Congrats on the win again." You said before you turned to head to the bus to take you to the terminal.
"See you on the plane." He called after you making you wave over your shoulder.
🏒🍫🍁
"Why aren't you sitting with me?" You asked Scott who was in the row behind you.
"Figured you could lie down and relax for the flight back."
"Scott, I'm fine, really. Maybe a little tired, but I'm feeling good, honestly."
You threw your carryon in the overhead bin. Just as you sat at the window seat, you saw the players board, excited from their win and to get home to their families. You buckled yourself in and waited until everyone was seated, grateful to Scott for giving you some extra room.
You had dreams of stretching out and reading your book, but those thoughts ended when you saw a large body standing in the aisle in your row.
"Bucky?"
"Hey." He said, placing his carryon on the seat next to you.
"What are you doing?"
Players always sit at the back of the plane and only come to the front if they have a question for the medical staff or coaches.
"Sitting here." He shrugged off his black suit jacket.
"But...but why?" You watched as he started slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt.
"Figured, I'd keep you company."
He shook off his shirt exposing his toned chest you always admired and grabbed a black t-shirt from his bag and slipped it on. Once he was set, he placed his bag in the overhead bin and flopped down next to you.
You turned and looked over your shoulder at Scott who hid a chuckle.
"Ok..."
Bucky settled in the seat and did up the seatbelt, leaning over you to look out the window. His shoulder brushed your arm when he did, making you feel his warm body heat.
"Should be a smooth flight." He said, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"Right." You were still frozen in your seat gawking at Bucky, unsure what to say or do with this large hockey player in your space.
No one else seemed to care that he was sitting at the front of the plane, so you just went along with it. As the plane taxied down the runway, then got set for takeoff, Bucky reached for your left hand and held it, lacing your fingers together while the plane lifted off. You didn't dare say anything or move your hand seeing as how it was firmly in his for the entire flight. It felt like you were floating as he held your hand; like you were back in middle school with a crush.
Bucky made sure you were feeling fine, asking you every so often if you were ok, it was almost getting annoying, but you understood his concern. You would be worried if you witnessed someone pass out in front of you, then see them being whisked away to the hospital by an ambulance.
The plane landed and Bucky finally let go of your hand when it came to a stop. He got up and grabbed his carryon as everyone deplaned. You got your suitcase and had ordered an Uber when Bucky came up to you.
"So, you'll be ok then?"
"Yes, I will, thanks. I've got an Uber on the way, so I'll be fine."
You stuffed your phone in your pocket. He watched you carefully, almost like he was committing you to memory then he nodded, seeming to be ok with your answer.
🏒🍫🍁
You finally finished your interview with Bucky, the one where you passed out in the middle of it. Shield had made it into the finals playing against the Commandos and you had been busier than ever.
Your sugar levels were good, and you had no other issues apart from learning how to deal with an over-protective assistant captain who has been constantly checking in on you every chance he gets.
"Bucky, I'm fine, really." You insisted while going over your game notes.
The series was tied with game seven at the Shield arena, when you spied Bucky watching you from the doorway to the locker room like he didn't believe you.
"I'm fine." You assured him with a glare.
"Ok, sheesh, put the knife down doll." He teased, holding up his hands and slipped into the dressing room to prepare for their warm-ups.
"He's been obsessed with you lately." Scott teased.
"Ugh, I know. It's..."
"Cute? Romantic?"
"Crazy." You huffed making your hair flutter around your face.
🏒🍫🍁
"You ok over there?" Steve asked his assistant captain.
"All good."
"Hmm..."
"What?" Bucky glared at his friend.
"You've been obsessing over the reporter lately."
"Have not." Bucky snorted while Steve gave him a look.
"Since she was hospitalized."
"Just making sure she's ok."
Bucky put his shoulder pads on and did up his elbow ones.
"You know I have my rule..."
"Fuck your rule. You're head over heels for her, so why not ask her out?" Steve shook his head at his stubborn friend.
Bucky finished putting on his shin pads and pulled up his socks, all while thinking Steve may be right. He'd been low-key obsessing over you for a while and the hospital visit seemed to put everything in perspective for him.
He only had another year or two left to play out his contract and retire as a member of the Shield, so why not go for it? He's fairly certain you like him back, but would you accept a date with him if he asks you?
🏒🍫🍁
"Holy crap, they won the cup!"
Scott gave you a side hug while the team celebrated on the ice. The fans were going crazy in the stands with the win which only made it louder in the arena for you to concentrate. You watched the team celebrate, hug each other and laugh while the trophy was brought onto the ice.
You had your press pass out and showed it, allowing you on the ice with Scott following. You had gotten a lot of celebratory shots of everyone and a few on-ice interviews from the excited players, when you had Scott get into position while the trophy was going to be presented.
"There." You pointed to a spot next to another news crew who were setting up.
The players were handed their Championship hats while they skated around the ice. Some were holding onto each other, and others were waving to their friends and family in the stands when you felt a body stand behind you.
Scott had a small hand-held camera he had started, getting you candid shots the network's social media team could use.
You turned and smiled wide at Bucky who was sweaty and red from celebrating; his hat on slightly crooked.
You shoved the microphone at him and said, "How do you feel right now?" Which made him smile wide.
"I feel amazing doll." He winked at you.
You froze at his term of endearment he had been using on you lately, unsure how to respond.
"Right, well... We can't use that Scott..."
You looked over at Scott who gave you an eye roll.
"Why not?" Bucky asked.
"Well...I..." You couldn't think of anything to say while he watched you try to find words.
The team was getting into place as the commissioner was heading to the ice to present the team the trophy.
You stood with your microphone, unsure of what else to say when Bucky leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.
A few catcalls and whoops were heard while his lips devoured yours. You dropped the microphone and grabbed his sweaty jersey, kissing him back.
You finally separated when you saw Steve Rogers whistle and smile wide at the two of you. He placed his arms around your shoulders and said, "Finally!" Before he let go to head to where the trophy was.
You snapped out of it and composed yourself, picking your microphone up from the ice.
"You can edit that out." You said to Scott who shook his head no.
"Actually, we're live." He mouthed making your face pale.
Frig.
"You ok?"
Bucky was suddenly focused on you, seeing you pale.
"Did you eat? How are your sugar levels?"
"I-I'm fine. We're live. That was live. Everyone saw." You mumbled, face turning red.
"Yeah they did." Bucky smiled wide, leaning over to kiss you again.
"Bucky!" You blushed.
"Anything you want to ask me?"
"Uh..."
Your mind was soup at what he did, but you quickly composed yourself.
"What are your plans with the offseason?"
That was the stupidest question to ask you chastised yourself. There would be no way any of the players would be thinking that at this moment in time.
He leaned back, a little caught off guard but he smiled.
"I plan on celebrating the whole night with my team and hopefully you at my side. Then, tomorrow, I plan on taking you out on a date, THEN I plan on volunteering my time with the Diabetes Association in the off-season."
He faced the camera as he spoke.
"Someone important to me has diabetes and I want to help in every way I can."
Your mouth was open in shock before he skated away with a wink and joined Steve where they accepted the trophy. The fans were cheering loud as they watched the team hoist the cup in the air with Scott giving you a thumbs up from behind the camera.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
A/N2: Reader is plus sized, female. No other physical descriptors used.
Warnings: Animals with injuries/birth defects.
Word Count: 300
Main story coming soon(Ish)!
Steve doesn't need a clock to tell that it's 12:30. Tank, Marigold and Parker were standing at the door waiting for your lunch break and their afternoon walk.
When you'd first moved into the apartment next door Steve was scared you'd be angry at living next to a place that fostered special needs dogs and cats. Instead, you asked to be shown the animals and cooed over each of them while also paying attention to Steve's warnings about care and treatment.
You even asked if you could take some of them for walks when you took your lunch break. Working from home you know you need to make sure you get out of your apartment from time to time. Having a neighbor who fostered dogs was a great opportunity to do so.
The knock at the door had Steve smiling as the dogs' tails started wagging. Carefully making sure not to step on any paws or wheelchair components, he makes his way to the door to unlock it.
"HI Steve," you cheer as you see him. Carefully stepping through the door, you delight at all the happy puppies eager for their walk. "Hey pretties! You ready for walkies?"
The dogs are immediately barking and tippy-tapping, as they're able.
Grabbing the leashes you ask Steve, "are you able to join us today?"
"Nah, I've got a blind kitten that's still getting used to things. Need to stick close for him."
"Gotcha. I'll take this little pack around a block or two and be back in no time."
After you've left Steve checks in on the kitten, talking softly about you.
"She's so sweet and beautiful," Steve confesses. "She's out of my league, of course. Who isn't? But some days I like to think I'm gonna make her mine, all mine."
Prompt: Hey! Baby - Bruce Channel / “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine.”
Character: Steve Rogers
I know it’s short but please let me know your thoughts and reblog. Also, would love to discuss any ideas these little snippets inspire!
Love you! 💞
"On my way back," Steve taps the ear piece to silence the comms. He's not asking permission. He's the captain, he gives orders.
Even for him, the first avenger, there are things that elude him. There are those moments that make him feel like that scrawny kid in Brooklyn taking his licks in the back alley. Like her.
He sits on the low stone wall, staring across the green plains of overgrown grass waving beneath the evening breeze. Across the distance, he sees her small figure as she takes down sheets from the line. Among the pollen and dander, he smells only her.
She doesn't know he's watching. She can't see as far as him. She can't hear his heartbeat like he can hers.
He traces the edge of his shield. His cowl sits him, he can feel his hair askew. He smooths it and sniffs. He rubs together his gloved palms and feels the gash on his knuckle. He squeezes until it stings.
"I'm gonna make her mine, all mine," he whispers as he grips tighter.
But how? How does he cross that barrier? How does he approach without scaring her?
He pops his finger out of the socket with a stifled grunt. He grits his teeth and stands. He pushes his head back on his neck and picks up the shield. He flicks it around without a thought, flinging it in a curve that slices the air.
He doesn't flinch as it comes flying back at him. It cracks him in the shoulder, putting it out of place, renting through the outer layer of armour. He huffs and catches the shield before it hits the ground.
He watched her nurse orphaned chicks back to health. He knows she can't resist a wounded animal.
Summary: Steve finds his mate in the midst of World War II
Warnings: Fluff, imprisonment, violence, abo dynamics, guns, injuries, Hydra, word war 2, talk of heats.
(A/N): Did self insert myself into this? Yes, yes I did. Feedback is always appreciated, happy reading! ❤️ Sorry if this is crappy
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Gun shots and shouts filled your ears as a battle raged outside. You cowered in the corner of your cold damp cell, praying for someone to rescue you.
Footsteps could be heard as a shadowy figure of a tall, broad shouldered man came into view. An Alpha.
Pausing, the mysterious Alpha surveyed the area before his eyes locked onto yours.
"Hey, it's okay. We're here to get you out." he said gently whilst approaching you.
As he got closer and ripped the metal bars of your prison off the walls, you took in his appearance. Tall, blonde, muscular and blue eyed. The American man radiated Alpha. Not to mention that his show of strength stirred your inner Omega awake.
"I'm Steve Rogers, you're going to be okay now." he soothed. His eyes latched onto your probably broken and bloody leg. "Can I carry you? I promise to be gentle."
You were weary of this Alpha but you were slowly caving. He seemed trustworthy. For now. Agreeing with him, you let him lift you bridal style, out of the now decimated Hydra base.
Once outside, he set you down on a crate and tended to your wounds. The dust had settled and all that was left was some rubble.
"This is going to sting." he warned as he started to clean the gash on your thigh.
Quickly and effortlessly, he patched you up to the best of his ability.
"When we get back to camp, the nurses will check you out, make sure nothing is too severely broken. Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you, I promise you'll be in good and safe hands." the Captain reassured as you visibly blanched at the notion of medical attention.
Breathing in deeply, you caught a whiff you Steve's scent as he carried you to the vehicle. Charcoal, strawberries and vanilla. It calmed you.
"Who's this young dame?" another Alpha questioned out of curiosity.
"This is..." Steve looked at you.
"(Y/N), I'm (Y/N)." you supplied quietly. The other Alpha intimidating you slightly.
"This is (Y/N). She was a prisoner in the base." gesturing to the other man, Steve introduced him as well. "(Y/N), this is Dum Dum Dugan."
"Pleasure to meet ya. Here have some water." Dum Dum offered kindly.
You weren't used to this. You had grown up with Alphas treating their Omegas and all Omegas like dirt. The show of kindness startled you and you weren't sure what to make of it.
The ride back to the camp had you questioning everything you knew about people and Alphas in particular. Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, a tall brunette Alpha and Steve's best friend intrigued you very much. He was conversing with a beta, both of them part of the Howling Commandos, about how he couldn't wait to get back and see his mate. He spoke about her with such adoration, it shocked you. This was very different from what you had been taught.
As the vehicle rolled into the camp, you could see a small group of people waiting by the entrance.
The soldiers dismounted from the green machine and some were ushered into a nearby tent.
"Bucky!" a short, petite woman with a British accent ran up to the Alpha.
"Alexis!" the sergeant gathered her up into his arms and they both clung to each other tightly.
Alexis pulled away and concern laced her features.
"Are you hurt? Let's get you checked up." fussing over the Alpha, the small Omega took his hand and pulled him along.
Soon, you were also escorted into the medical tent along with Steve and a nurse came to attend to them. Taking a seat by the couple, you observed them. It was nothing like you had ever seen before.
Alexis was tending to the soldier's wounds and lightly scolding him for being so reckless, all while the Alpha grinned ear to ear and played with her soft black hair. Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face into her bronze neck, breathing in her scent.
"I missed you, Omega." he murmured, placing a kiss to her cheek.
Melting into his embrace, the Omega comforted her mate. "I missed you too Alpha. I was so worried about you."
"I know, but always know that I'll come back to you no matter what. I love you."
The bed dipped next to you as Steve took a seat beside you.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. I-I've never seen an Alpha and an Omega to be so..." not able to form the right words, you waved in the couple's direction.
"Miss? If you could please come with me so I can give you a check up." a beta dressed in white called out to you. A nurse.
Nodding in understanding, Steve averted his gaze back towards you. He knew that in some towns Alphas, Betas and Omegas weren't treated the same as most places did. Alphas were normally at the top of the hierarchy and Omegas at the bottom.
Looking to Steve, he quickly covered your hand in his.
"I'll go with you. If you want that is."
Nodding and whispering a shaky "Yes", you let the man lead you towards the nurse.
It had been roughly a month since you had arrived at the camp. Since then, you had made a lot of progress. It was still hard, but being around other people was a bit easier for you now. You had even made friends with the Howling Commandos, Agent Peggy Carter, Alexis and Howard Stark.
You had one day a week reserved for some girl time with Peggy and Alexis where you were able to speak more freely and you felt yourself coming out of your shell.
Throughout your time at the camp, you learnt what a healthy relationship between mates looked like. Bucky and Alexis were a great help and were patient and understanding when you got confused. They answered any questions you had and soon became two of your closest friends at the base along with Peggy and Steve.
Steve. You had grown the closest with the blonde haired Alpha. He was there for everything. He would spend the nights soothing you after nightmares, accompanied you to the medical tent and acted as a source of great comfort. He was funny and managed to cheer you up all the time, especially with his terrible attempt at dancing. Soon enough, you caught yourself falling for the man.
Wednesday evening approached and you headed to Peggy's tent for your weekly girls night. Peggy had managed to sneak some chocolate and various other foods from a nearby pub and had set out a delicious meal for the three of you.
Conversation flowed and all of you were having the time of your life. You trusted the girls with your life.
"Alexis? Can I ask you a question?" you inquired shyly. No matter how many times she had assured you, she didn't mind your questions, you were still nervous at times.
"Of course! Everything okay (Y/N/N)?" her soft, warm, brown eyes only held kindness as she welcomed your inquiry.
"How did you know that Bucky was a suitable mate? What did you feel?"
The woman chuckled, remembering how she had met the man.
"I felt like I was soaring whenever I was with him. It was as if I knew that no matter what, he would be there for me. But I guess I really knew when my heat hit." the black haired girl looked down at her lap sheepishly. "He stood in front of my tent and made sure no one came in or tried anything. Even though it was affecting him too. He sat there the entire time, providing me food and water and standing guard. He felt safe."
Your heat hadn't come since you had been at the camp but Steve felt safe. He did everything he could for you no matter what and was always there.
"You like Steve." Peggy announced, a smirk pulling at her red painted lips.
Now it was your turn to look sheepish.
"I think he likes you too." she stated, a spark in her eyes.
"Well..." you hesitated, there was no way an Alpha like Captain Steve Rogers would look at an Omega like you, right?
"Peggy's right. I'm sure he likes you too!" this time it was Alexis who spoke. "Trust me. I've seen the way he looks at you."
"I have an idea." the brunette Beta declared.
And that was how you found yourself sitting around the campfire with all your friends, enjoying the crisp night.
Steve sat next to you, heat emitting from him keeping you warm.
A little to the left, sat Bucky and Alexis curled up in each other. Alexis was perched on his lap and the Alpha had his arms wrapped around his mate, nuzzling and pressing light kisses to her neck at regular intervals.
"Aren't they beautiful? The stars?" the blonde asked as he started up the clear sky.
Humming in agreement you turned to find him looking at you. The fire lit up his blue eyes and the flames danced in the reflection.
"Do you know any constellations?"
The two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped up in one and other, feelings blooming on the meanwhile.
It was almost time to head to bed when Peggy carried out her plan.
"So, (Y/N), Tim at the pub seems to have taken an interest in you." wiggling her eyebrows, she noted how Steve tensed but pretend to speak to Bucky.
Sitting next you, she droned on about how he was a nice Alpha, monitoring Steve's every move.
"I'm going to turn in for the night." the Captain announced abruptly and he walked he away, steps heavy, into the night.
Ushering you in his direction, Peggy gave you a 'go get your man' look and you've never run so fast in your life.
"Steve! Wait!"
At your call, he stopped in his tracks and turned around.
"What is it (Y/N)?" he asked harshly.
"Why did you leave suddenly?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Cut the crap Rogers. I know when you're lieing. You're terrible at it." even worse than Bucky you thought, momentarily recalling the time when he had stolen your last slice of plum cake.
Huffing, Steve refused to meet your eyes. Instead, the tree looked a lot more interesting than it had earlier.
"Are you jealous?" still nothing. "Alpha?"
This snapped him out of his reverie.
"What did you say?"
"I asked, if you were jealous, Alpha. You jealous of the pub owner?"
No one called someone else by their presentation apart from their mate.
"You're playing a dangerous game here Omega." he growled.
"What if I want to play the game?"
"Well then little Omega, why don't you show me how much you want to play this game?"
Launching yourself at the large Alpha, you fervently locked your lips with his.
Returning the kiss, Steve wrapped you in his embrace and conveyed all his emotions in the display of affection.
It felt like hours had gone by, by the time you pulled back for air. Both of you panting, and a cool breeze drifting by.
"I didn't want to think about you with another man." Steve admitted shyly.
"Good, because I don't want to be with another man." you grinned.
Squeals could be heard as the super soldier picked you up and carried you to his tent. Laying you down on his bed, he slid in next to you.
