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Summary: Bob is hesitant to go near the baby because he’s openly afraid of Alpine.
Trigger Warnings: None.
Author’s Note: I'm not really here. I'm posting alpine just so I have something to post, so you know I'm still alive. In some minor capacity. One day I'll really be back. Not today, though. Too much life. Not enough time.
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Previously: Alpine's New Nickname
Bob lingered in the doorway like the living room was a trap.
The baby was on her blanket in the middle of the rug, happily chewing on a teether and babbling at the ceiling fan. You sat nearby with a stack of tiny laundry, and Bucky was on the couch, pretending to read while aware of every movement in the room anyway.
Alpine sat on the back of the couch like a tiny white gargoyle, tail curled neatly around her paws, eyes trained on Bob with a calm that somehow felt more threatening than hissing ever did.
Bob swallowed. “So… she’s… always like that?”
Bucky didn’t look up from the book. “Yes.”
You tried not to laugh. “She’s mostly harmless.”
Bob’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
Alpine blinked slowly, pleased.
Bob took one tentative step inside, then stopped again when Alpine’s gaze followed him. He kept his hands lifted slightly, palms visible, like he was approaching a wild animal with diplomatic intent.
“I brought a gift,” he said, voice careful, and pulled a small plush toy from his jacket pocket. It was soft and harmless, one of those baby-safe things that crinkled when you squeezed it. “But I’m not—um—I’m not trying to challenge anyone’s authority here.”
Bucky finally lowered the book enough to look over it. “Are you… asking the cat for permission?”
Bob nodded once, serious. “Yes.”
Alpine’s tail flicked with satisfaction.
You glanced up at her. “Al, stop it. Bob can come say hi.”
Bob didn’t move. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… I like my eyes.”
Bucky sighed, but there was amusement in it. “She’s not gonna take your eyes, Bob.”
Alpine sneezed from her perch, a small, dismissive sound.
Bob flinched anyway.
You smiled. “That was her way of saying you’re allowed.”
Bucky nodded, deadpan. “You’re on probation, but you’re allowed.”
Bob exhaled shakily, as if he’d been granted a pardon. He crouched near the baby, keeping a respectful distance from the couch. The baby noticed him immediately, eyes brightening, and reached out with grabby enthusiasm.
Bob softened. “Oh,” he whispered, like he’d forgotten how small humans could be. He offered the toy, and the baby snatched it with triumph, gripping it in her tiny fist hard enough to make the crinkle echo through the room.
Alpine watched the exchange with regal approval, ears forward now, her posture relaxed. She did not hiss. She did not move. She only sneezed once more, as if sealing the decision.
Bob looked up at you and Bucky, still nervous. “So… I’m good?”
Bucky glanced at Alpine. “You’re good.”
And Alpine, respected as she believed she should be, settled in like a queen who had decided mercy was appropriate today.
Summary: Alexei is notoriously loud. Alpine does not tolerate it when the baby is sleeping.
Trigger Warnings: None
Author’s Note: If Alexei will be quiet for anyone, it's Alpine.
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Previously: Alpine Watches Walker
The baby had finally fallen asleep.
She was tucked into her crib, warm and milk-drowsy, her little breaths soft and even. The door to the nursery was closed, the TV muted, the whole apartment wrapped in a fragile hush everyone respected.
Everyone, apparently, except Alexei.
He sat on the couch with his legs sprawled out, gesturing wildly as he talked, voice booming at what he seemed to believe was a perfectly reasonable volume. “And then I tell them, you cannot fight like this, you must use your whole body—like bear!”
Bucky’s eyes darted to the baby monitor, then narrowed as he watched his daughter stir faintly.
“Alexei,” Bucky said in a low voice that carried threat and exhaustion in equal measure, “keep it down.”
Alexei waved a hand. “I am being down. This is down for me.”
Bucky stared at him like he was about to launch something heavy. “More. Down.”
Alexei chuckled, completely missing the point, and leaned forward like he was about to get louder.
Before he could foolishly wake the baby, Alpine intervened.
She sprang up from her cat tree, a white blur crossing the rug with purpose. She jumped onto the couch arm, then onto the cushion beside Alexei with the quiet precision of a creature that understood stealth better than any soldier in the room.
Alexei turned toward her mid-sentence. “Ah! Tiny snow tiger—”
Alpine rose onto her hind legs and smacked his cheek. Not with claws, just a firm, swift bat that landed with unmistakable intention.
Alexei blinked, stunned. “Excuse—”
Alpine batted him again, a second and third time, in quick succession.
Bucky’s lips twitched, but the rest of the team barely held in their laughter.
Alexei’s eyes widened as Alpine planted one soft paw directly over his mouth. Her whiskers flared and her gaze sharpened.
“Mrrow,” she warned, low and rumbling, like she’d dug the sound out of her chest specifically for intimidation.
Alexei went completely and utterly still.
His hands lifted slowly in surrender, eyes huge over Alpine’s paw like he’d just been held at gunpoint by a marshmallow. He nodded once, tiny and obedient.
Alpine held the stare for another beat, then withdrew her paw with all the dignity of someone who had just saved the world. She sat primly on the cushion beside him, tail curling around her paws, as if to say, Try me again.
Alexei swallowed, then actually whispered, “Okay. I understand. Small voice.”
Bucky glanced at the monitor of the still sleeping baby, then looked back at Alpine. “Thank you,” he mouthed silently.
Alpine blinked once, slow and satisfied.
Alexei leaned toward Bucky, still whispering, awe-struck. “Your cat is terrifying.”
Bucky’s expression stayed deadpan. “Yeah. She’s who we go to when we need the big guns.”
Alexei nodded fervently, not daring to make a sound louder than a breath as Alpine sat guard beside him, the apartment quiet again at last.
Summary: Alpine learns a new trick from watching Dad!Bucky. Baby is delighted.
Trigger Warnings: None
Author’s Note: I may be taking liberties with feline intelligence, but I feel like Alpine is more intelligent than most cats, so I'm going with it.
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Previously: Alpine's Valentine Surprise
It started with Bucky being ridiculous on purpose.
He’d crouched behind the armchair, peeking around it with exaggerated slowness, eyes wide and playful. The baby sat on her blanket a few feet away, propped up with pillows, watching him with that intense concentration she reserved for anything that might be funny.
“Where’s Daddy?” Bucky whispered, voice dramatic. “Where’d I go?”
He ducked back out of sight for a beat, then popped out again with a grin. “Peek-a-boo!”
The baby startled, then broke into delighted giggles, kicking her feet and squealing like she’d just discovered the greatest joke ever told.
Bucky’s whole face softened, pride and joy written all over him. “There it is,” he murmured. “That laugh. That’s my favorite sound in the world.”
From the couch, you smiled into your mug. Until you noticed Alpine watching from the hallway.
She sat perfectly still, ears forward, eyes locked on Bucky like he was performing a strange ritual she needed to understand. Her head tilted slightly as he ducked and popped out again, the baby laughing harder each time.
Bucky did it one more time, then stood with a satisfied sigh. “Alright, I’m gonna get her bottle,” he said, brushing a kiss over the baby’s hair as he passed.
The room settled. The baby sniffled, still smiling, looking around as if expecting more.
That was when Alpine moved.
She padded over to the coffee table, paused behind one of its legs, and crouched low. The baby’s gaze snapped to the flick of white fur disappearing behind the dark wood.
Then Alpine leaned her head out slowly, just her face visible, eyes bright.
“Mrrp,” she meowed, short and deliberate, like a tiny announcement.
The baby squealed in surprise, then laughed, hands flapping excitedly. Then Alpine disappeared again.
You stared, frozen, as she repeated it: ducking behind the table leg, then peeking out from the other side with another perfectly timed meow.
“Mrrp.”
The baby’s laughter bubbled up louder, her whole body rocking with delight.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, a grin spreading across your face. “She’s playing peek-a-boo.”
Alpine popped out once more, meowed like she was delivering a punchline, then sat primly in the open as if this had always been her idea and she was simply allowing the baby a moment of joy.
The baby reached for her, still giggling. Alpine blinked slowly, tail flicking with quiet satisfaction.
When Bucky returned, bottle in hand, he stopped dead at the sound of the baby laughing again. His eyes shifted from you to the coffee table, then to Alpine sitting there like an innocent bystander.
“Did you…?” he started.
You shook your head, unable to stop smiling. “It was all Alpine. She learned it from you.”
Bucky stared at Alpine in disbelief. Alpine blinked at him once, smug as ever.
And the baby laughed again, as if to say the lesson had been worth it.
Summary: Baby's first Valentine's Day. She gets double gifts.
Trigger Warnings: Alpine is too cute.
Author’s Note: Happy Valentine's Day! (I doubled my usual word limit for this, cause I just couldn't stop.)
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Previously: Alpine Senses the Cold Snap
Bucky came home like he was trying to be casual about it, which was exactly how you knew he wasn’t.
He eased the door shut with his foot, shoulders dusted with cold air, and stood in the entryway for half a second too long, eyes flicking toward the living room like he was checking for witnesses. Alpine was perched on the back of the couch, naturally, and the baby was on her blanket on the floor, propped up with pillows and doing her best impression of a tiny sun: bright-eyed, drooly, and delighted by everything.
You looked up from the couch and narrowed your eyes. “What did you do?”
Bucky’s mouth twitched. “Nothing.”
“That’s a lie,” you said, already smiling.
He sighed like he’d been caught, then lifted his hands from behind his back. In one, a bouquet wrapped in brown paper—soft pink and white roses with sprigs of green tucked between them. In the other, two small bags that crinkled promisingly.
“I—” he started, then seemed to decide he wasn’t going to apologize for it. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Your heart warmed instantly. “Bucky…”
He stepped closer and held out the bouquet, gaze a little shy despite the confidence in his posture. “For you. For everything. For… being you.”
You took them carefully, inhaling the fresh, sweet scent, and your whole face softened without permission. “They’re gorgeous,” you murmured. Then you leaned forward, cupped his cheek, and kissed him, slow and thankful, the kind of kiss that said you saw every quiet thing he did even when he tried not to make a big deal out of it. “Thank you, honey.”
When you pulled back, he looked a little dazed. “Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than it had been. “Okay. You’re welcome.”
From the floor, the baby made an impatient little noise, as if reminding everyone she existed and would like to be included in the festivities.
Bucky’s grin shifted into full dad-pride as he crouched down. “Alright, alright,” he murmured. “I’ve got something for you too, little miss.”
He pulled a small rose-shaped rattle from one of the bags: red petals made of soft fabric, a soft green stem handle, and a gentle jingle when he moved it. The baby’s eyes widened like the world had just revealed its greatest treasure.
Bucky placed it in her hand.
She immediately shook it with enthusiasm that bordered on violent.
The rattle jingled brightly and the baby squealed and shook it harder.
You laughed. “She loves it.”
Bucky watched like he couldn’t believe he’d caused that much joy with something so small. “Of course she does,” he said, soft. “It’s loud.”
Alpine chose that moment to flick her tail as if to remind you that she had not received her due tribute yet. She stared at Bucky with the patient, pointed expression of someone who expected to be honored properly and promptly.
Bucky stood and held up the second bag. “And for you,” he said, completely serious, as if speaking to a visiting dignitary.
He pulled out two little catnip mouse toys, white with pink hearts and tiny red bows, ridiculous and adorable. Alpine’s ears perked, pupils widening a fraction as her dignity visibly wavered.
“Don’t act like you’re not excited,” you teased.
Alpine blinked slowly, which would’ve been more convincing if her tail wasn’t already twitching.
Bucky set the toys on the rug. Alpine stepped forward, sniffed them with exaggerated nonchalance, then picked one up in her mouth like she was doing Bucky a favor by accepting it.
The baby watched this with fascination, still clutching the rose rattle and shaking it occasionally just to remind everyone she could.
Alpine padded closer to the baby, mouse toy dangling from her mouth. She paused at the edge of the blanket, looked between the baby’s hands, then, very deliberately, dropped the mouse right into the baby’s lap.
You blinked. “Did she just—”
Bucky stared, incredulous. “She just shared.”
Alpine didn’t wait for applause. She turned away immediately, picked up the second mouse toy, and trotted off a few feet to begin batting it across the hardwood with focused intensity.
The baby looked down at her lap as if she’d been handed a crown. She grabbed the mouse toy with her free hand, fingers curling around it with clumsy determination. Now she had a rose rattle in one fist and a cat toy in the other, her whole body vibrating with delighted confusion at the concept of having two treasures at once.
She cooed loudly, face lit up, and shook the rattle while simultaneously trying to mouth the mouse’s little bow.
Alpine smacked the other mouse toy into the leg of the coffee table, then chased it like it had insulted her family line.
The baby squealed, ecstatic, eyes darting between Alpine’s chaotic play and the gifts in her hands.
You sat back with a soft laugh, bouquet resting against your shoulder. “This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Bucky’s gaze stayed fixed on the baby and Alpine, his expression caught somewhere between amazement and tenderness. “I didn’t think she’d share,” he admitted quietly.
You nudged him with your elbow. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Maybe she’s feeling romantic.”
Bucky snorted. “That cat isn’t romantic.”
Alpine launched her mouse toy into the air and caught it mid-pounce like a tiny predator.
“…She’s festive,” he amended.
You laughed, then leaned into him, flowers warm in your arms. “You did good, Buck.”
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close. “Just trying to take care of my girls,” he said simply.
On the floor, your daughter shook her rose rattle like she was summoning joy itself, clutching Alpine’s mouse toy like a secret prize, while Alpine batted the other mouse across the room with the unshakeable confidence of someone who knew she was the real star of the show.
And in that moment, amidst pink flowers, jingling rattle, and catnip chaos, you couldn’t imagine a better Valentine’s Day than this.
Thinking about Winterwitch and the Reader being idiots in love. Hereafter referred to as 'the trio' Gender Neutral Reader. Written to fulfill a request from @mrs-maximoff-kenner for my follower celebration. I couldn't get it to work in fic form so we'll do it like this.
>the trio who do literally everything together when they aren't on mission. You need to go shopping? Winterwitch is right there with you. Bucky needs a haircut? Off the three of you go. Wanda needs extra training? You and Bucky are watching or helping.
>the trio who always curls up together on the couch for movie nights
>the trio who sleeps in each other's beds more often than not.
>the trio who everyone thinks is just the best throuple to ever exist
>the trio who is absolutely not dating regardless of what everyone says.
>the trio who is sitting on the couch together one morning watching a movie while eating breakfast off each other's plates. Bucky handfeeding you a piece of bacon while you feed Wanda a forkful of eggs.
>the trio who shift their focus from the TV to Nat and Clint as they walk into the room. Natasha immediately focuses on you. "Hey, you remember Agent Simms. He asked if he could have your number. Are you interested?" "Why would you ask them that? Their partners are literally right there?" Clint asks, eyes wide with disbelief.
>Bucky and Wanda who sit straighter on either side of you as the three of you watch Clint and Nat argue about your relationship. "They are not together." "They clearly are. Look at them."
>Bucky who cleared his throat and said, "I really don't want you to say yes."
>Wanda who grasped your hand in hers. "Me, neither."
>You who blinks and says, "Why would I be interested in anyone else when I have the two of you?"
>Wanda who turns your head to kiss you first. "I'm crazy about both of you."
>Bucky who finds a way to kiss both you and Wanda without shuffling you around though the breakfast plate ended up on the floor. "Me too."
>the trio who realizes the room has gone very quiet and finds Clint and Natasha staring at them with wide eyes. "We're dating now," you explain before standing and dragging your two laughing partners off to your room.
warnings/notes: Reader's boyfriend is an abusive dick. Written to fill a request for my follower celebration. I think that's it. :)
“There she is!” Tony’s voice cut through the party noise as he made his way toward you and your boyfriend as you stepped off the elevator into his penthouse. The space was filled with guests in cocktail dresses and suits. Tony grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was beginning to think you’d stood us up.”
“It’s not a date,” your boyfriend grumbled beside you.
Tony’s narrowed gaze told you he’d heard the words. Fucking Jared. Couldn’t he just not be an ass for one night? He hadn’t wanted to come, only relenting when he realized you were going regardless.
You hugged Tony with a laugh, trying to deflect attention from your boyfriend. “As if you would ever let me forget it if I did.”
Bruce approached, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass filled with amber liquid. “Glad you made it,” he said to you, eyes darting only briefly in Jared’s direction.
“Me too,” you said with a grin, accepting the hug when he held his arm out for one.
“And you must be…” Tony extended his hand to Jared, his smile thinning in irritation.
“Jared, her boyfriend.” He shook Tony’s hand with unnecessary force. Bruce and Tony exchanged a glance so quick you almost missed it. Would have if you didn’t know them so well.
Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, Jared, drinks are over there, foods everywhere. Try not to break anything I can’t replace.” He turned his attention to you. “The team’s been waiting for you to show up. Natasha’s by the bar if you want to say hello.”
“I’ll get us drinks,” Jared said, already stepping away.
As he walked off, Tony’s gaze followed him. “So that’s the guy, huh?”
“Be nice,” you said, though you didn’t really mean it. Jared was…Jared. Most of the time he was fine but sometimes…
Bruce cleared his throat. “He seems…nice.”
Before you could respond, a booming voice called your name and Thor appeared. He scooped you into a hug that lifted your feet off the floor with a laugh. “The lady arrives. We have missed you greatly.”
For the next hour you moved through the party, catching up with your friends. Jared remained at the edges of conversations, his posture stiff, his expression growing darker with each drink. You waved him over to join a conversation with Rhodey and he approached with visible reluctance. He made a few curt comments before drifting away again.
You found him by the bar, ordering his fourth whiskey. “Everything okay?” you asked, knowing better than to comment on the drinking.
“Fine.” He didn’t look at you. “Your friends are very impressive. Must be nice to have such important connections.”
There was an edge to his voice you recognized. One that said things were only going to get worse from here. You chose your words carefully, not wanting this to devolve into a fight. Not here. “They’re just people. They’re nice. If you met them properly, I think you would like them.”
“I’m good here.” He finally looked at you, eyes scanning your outfit. “That dress is a bit much, isn’t it? Trying to show off for someone?”
You forced a smile. “You said you liked it earlier.”
“That was before I realized how low-cut it is. Didn’t realize you were such a slut.” His voice carried just enough for a nearby cluster of guests to glance over.
Heat flooded your cheeks. “Let’s not do this here, okay?”
You saw Natasha watching you from across the room, her expression carefully neutral as her gaze moved between the two of you. You excused yourself and headed for your friend, grateful for the escape.
Your conversation was easy as always, Natasha telling you a story about an agent that thought he was much more impressive than he was. You laughed loudly when she described his utter failure.
“God that laugh,” Jared’s voice came from behind you, slurred at the edges. “You sound like a hyena. It’s embarrassing.”
Your laughter died in your throat. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “I think she has a beautiful laugh.” Her voice carried a clear warning in it.
Jared ignored her. “I’m bored. It’s time to go home.”
“I’m having a great time,” you countered, noticing that Clint had shifted closer, his attention fixed on Jared.
“Of course you are,” he muttered before stalking off to the bar again.
Bruce appeared at your side, concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” you said with a tight smile. “He’s just not great at parties.”
He nodded, looking unconvinced. “Tony’s looking for you. Wants to talk to you about the latest suit design I think.”
You followed him to where Tony was telling a story to a small group, hands moving with his words. He immediately included you in the circle, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he continued. The warmth of his touch temporarily replaced the cold discomfort Jared had created.
Later, as you crossed the room with a fresh drink, a server turned suddenly bumping into you. The contents of your glass splashed over the rim. It was barely a spill but Jared appeared as if summoned, his fingers closing around your wrist with bruising force.
“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” he hissed, grip tightening. “You’re an embarrassment.”
“You’re hurting me,” you whispered, trying to pull away.
His fingers dug deeper. “Don’t be so sensitive. This is why people think you’re pathetic. Always whining.”
The words and grip combined had you visibly flinching. Across the room, Tony straightened, his relaxed demeanor vanishing. Bruce followed his line of sight and went very still, a flicker of something dangerous passing through his gaze.
The server apologized profusely, offering napkins as he tried to defuse the situation. But Jared’s grip remained tight and he continued to utter things meant only for your ears. Cruel comments on your clumsiness, how you always embarrassed him.
You shrunk under his relentless assault. He hadn’t always been like this. You’d attributed his change in personality to increased stress at work and you’d just been dealing with it. Waiting for the old Jared to return.
One moment, Jared’s fingers were digging into your wrist and the next the Avengers were moving to your rescue. Steve appeared on Jared’s left while Thor materialized on the right. Neither spoke but the message was clear, Jared’s behavior was not acceptable.
Jared’s hold loosened though he didn’t fully release you. His gaze darted between the two men, a flicker of uncertainly crossing his face before settling back into drunken idiocy.
Tony approached, stance deceptively relaxed but you recognized the look in his eyes. He was furious. His head tilted slightly. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Jared blinked then scoffed. “We’re fine. Just a little misunderstanding.” His hand finally dropped from your wrist, leaving angry red marks.
“Wasn’t talking to her. Just you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re done for the night.”
Bruce came to stand behind you. A glance showed more than a little green in his eyes. You reached for his hand on instinct, running your thumb over his knuckles. He looked down at you and smiled, all Bruce now.
“You can’t be serious,” Jared said, looking around as if expecting someone to side with him. “This is ridiculous. We’re leaving together.”
“No,” Bruce said, voice soft but firm. “She stays.”
“This is none of your business,” Jared hissed.
“Actually, it is,” Tony said. “Thor, take out the trash, would you?”
Jared’s face contorted with rage. “You can’t do this.”
Thor laughed as he put a heavy hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Of course he can. This is his tower.”
“You coming?” Jared demanded, looking at you.
You shook your head.
Steve moved a half-step closer to you. “The lady is staying.”
“Fine. Have fun with your superhero friends. Don’t bother calling me later.”
Thor guided him firmly toward the elevator and conversations around you gradually resumed. The crisis had passed but shame and embarrassment swamped you. Unshed tears burned in your eyes. The room suddenly felt too full, too loud. You glanced at your wrist and something in you broke.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice catching. “I’m so sorry.”
Tony stepped closer, his hand finding your elbow. “Hey, no. You have nothing to apologize for.”
But the tears were flowing freely now. Your hands trembled as you wiped at your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any drama.”
Bruce touched your shoulder, brow furrowed with concern. “You didn’t do anything.”
“He’s right,” Tony said, shaking his head. “That guy was the problem, not you. Never you.”
Natasha appeared with a concerned frown. “Do you want to sit down? Maybe somewhere quieter?”
The kindness in their voices only made it worse. The thought of facing the rest of the team while they all knew what you had allowed to happen, what you had been putting up with was unbearable.
“I should go. I need to go.”
“At least let me have Happy take you home,” Tony said.
“No, I just…” You couldn’t possibly describe the overwhelming need you had to just disappear. “I need to go. Right now. I’m sorry.”
Before they could stop you, you turned and headed for the elevator. Behind you, Bruce called your name, but you couldn’t turn around. If you did, if you had to see the pity in their eyes, it might break you completely.
The elevator doors opened as you reached them and you silently thanked JARVIS. Only once the doors were shut, did you look up. You leaned against the wall and let the tears fall freely.
Tony tossed his phone onto his workbench for the second time in an hour. Fourteen days. Two weeks since you’d disappeared into the elevator, face streaked with tears. He’d tried calling twice. Texting more, then stopped when he received no response. It you wanted space, he’d respect that. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d respect it.
“Still nothing?” Bruce asked.
“Nothing. You?”
Bruce shook his head. His work sat neglected, his mind unable to focus on anything but you. On the marks on your wrist, on the way you’d fled rather than accept their comfort.
“Maybe we should—”
“No,” Bruce interrupted. “We agreed we’d give her space.”
“It’s been two weeks, Bruce. What if he hurt her again? What if she needs help but is too embarrassed to call?”
“Or what if she just doesn’t want to see us? We’re not entitled to anything just because we’re worried.
Tony’s jaw tightened. “I can’t help but think if we’d just confessed to her, none of this would have happened.”
Bruce sighed. “We don’t know that either.”
“One more day, then I’m checking on her,” Tony said.
“Alright, Tony. One more day.”
It was 2:17 the next morning when Tony’s phone lit up the darkness of their bedroom. He scrambled for it, fully awake the instant he saw your name on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Please come get me. I don’t feel safe here.” Your voice was quiet, trembling and sent a jolt of fear straight up Tony’s spine.
Tony was already moving, grabbing clothes. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
Bruce was doing the same thing on the other side of the bed.
You took a shaky breath. “I’m not hurt, but he tried to break in the apartment, the door’s busted. The cops came but said there wasn’t much they could do.”
“I’ll take care of that tomorrow. Right now, Bruce and I are coming to get you okay?” He was halfway to the door, Bruce right on his heels. “Stay on the phone and get your things together, okay?”
When they reached the garage, he passed the phone over to Bruce so he could drive. He chose one of his less conspicuous cars and drove as fast as he dared through the sparsely populated streets. He pulled into the parking spot for your apartment that you hardly ever used.
Bruce hung up after you buzzed them in. They stopped short at the sight of the door to your apartment splintered around the lock, though it hadn’t given way completely. A man leaned against the wall outside your door.
“Can we help you?” Tony asked.
The man shook his head. “I’m the manager. Waiting for her to leave so I can board it up until we can get it fixed. Don’t want anyone stealing her stuff.”
Tony nodded once. “Thank you.” He didn’t bother saying that if he had his way, you wouldn’t be returning here at all.
You opened the door for them, immediately turning away to go back to packing. “I’m almost done,” you said over your shoulder.
“We’re not in any hurry, sweetheart,” Tony reassured.
You huffed a laugh. “You may not be, but Roger might seal me in the apartment if he has to wait much longer.”
They followed you back to your bedroom and Tony ran his gaze over you. You were dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings as you zipped up a bag. Your eyes were red and swollen.
“Do you need anything else?” Bruce asked as he picked up the bag from the bed.
You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I can just come back for it. I’ve got meds and toiletries. Everything else is easy enough to replace.”
You slid into your sneakers and grabbed the messenger bag you kept your computer in from the floor. Tony immediately took it from your hold. The moment the three of you stepped into the hall, your manager began nailing the door shut.
“I’m sure the neighbors love that,” Bruce muttered as you stepped into the elevator.
You gave a soft laugh and something in Tony eased. When you arrived at the tower, Tony directed the elevator to their floor rather than the one that housed your usual guestroom. Once inside, with JARVIS on alert, you sank onto the couch, shoulders curling forward.
A quiet sob left you as Tony sat beside you. Bruce headed into the kitchen returning with a glass of water.
“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping away the tears. “I don’t know why I’m so upset. I didn’t know who else to call when the police said they couldn’t do anything.”
“You called exactly the right people,” Tony said.
Bruce sat on your other side. “He can’t get near you here. And give Tony five minutes with the police commissioner in the morning and the issue with the police will be taken care of as well.”
Tony’s hand cupped the side of your neck, thumb tracing along your jaw. Bruce’s hand found the base of your spine. “In the meantime, I think you should stay here.”
Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of why I called.”
“No. Tony thinks you should stay here. In the penthouse. With us.”
“Oh. I didn’t know there was more than one bedroom up here.”
Tony’s lips twitched. “There isn’t.”
Your gaze moved between the two men, trying to get a read on them.
Bruce sighed. “Very helpful, Tony. Listen, we…I mean I…we—”
“Seriously, Bruce? And you’re complaining about me? Listen, sweetheart, me and big green here are crazy about you. We’ve been trying to figure out how to approach you for ages.” Tony’s eyes searched your face. “If that’s not something you’re interested in, being with the both of us I mean, that’s perfectly fine. You’re still welcome here for as long as you need. There will always be room for you.”
Your eyes were wide and you licked your lips before tugging the bottom one between your teeth. “You like me? Both of you?”
Bruce chuckled. “Yeah, we’d like to show you, if you’ll let us.”
You nodded slow once, then more quickly. “That sounds fantastic actually.”
Tony stood and clapped his hands together with a grin. “Fantastic. Let’s go to bed, shall we?”
“Tony,” you and Bruce groaned in unison which only had the billionaire grinning wider.
Clint Barton x Gender Neutral Bisexual Reader x Bucky Barnes
warnings/notes: @remuslupinsbiwifey requested a Winterhawk fic for my follower celebration with any prompt so have Fake Dating. As stated above reader is gender neutral and bisexual. I think that's it. Enjoy.
Your sister was a pain in the ass.
You loved her, you did, but she was always trying to set you up and you hated it. She found someone that she thought would be perfect for some version of you that she had in her head that was nothing like the real you. And you always ended up going out with them just to get her to shut up about it for a few months.
The truth was you had no interest in finding ‘your perfect someone’ as she put it. No, as far as you were concerned, you’d already found them. Two of them to be precise and they seemed to be hopelessly in love with one another. Which wasn’t ideal, true, but they were your best friends and you were content to just be in their orbit most of the time.
You groaned and dropped your head against the back of the couch as you read the latest text from your sister.
“That was an unhappy sound,” Clint’s voice drifted from where he and Bucky were entering the room.
You turned your head to look at them. “My sister found a nice guy in her cycling class that she thinks would be perfect for me. She means it this time.”
Clint’s nose wrinkled as he curled his lip. “Cycling class? She tell you anything else about him?”
“Law clerk. Around my age. Pretty.”
Bucky’s brows shot up. “She actually used the word pretty?”
You nodded and groaned again. “I don’t like pretty.” Both men laughed at your disgruntled tone.
Okay, so maybe, technically that wasn’t entirely true. Lots of people thought Clint and Bucky were pretty though that wasn’t at all the word you would use to describe them. Handsome (always). Rugged (sometimes). Perfect (to you). You were a hopeless case you were afraid.
“Too bad you quit dating that SHIELD agent. You could have used her to get your sister off your case,” Bucky said as he sat beside you. Clint sat on your other side.
“One dinner does not equal dating, Barnes,” you automatically corrected. “But yes, it is a tragedy.” Then you had an absolutely wonderful, horrible idea.
You sat up straight with a jolt. “Be my boyfriend.”
“Um…excuse me?” Clint asked. “Who exactly is supposed to be your boyfriend?”
“Either of you, I don’t care,” you said, words tumbling out of you now. “She’s stopping by to talk me into the date. One of you pretend to be my boyfriend and she’ll leave me alone.”
You looked between them to see them sharing a glance behind your back. “Yeah, sweetheart, we can help you out,” Clint said with a smile.
Before you could clarify, Friday announced the arrival of your sister. You ran a hand down your face. “Okay. I’m going to go down and bring her up. Just be boyfriendy or whatever when I get back.”
By the time you fetched your sister and returned to the common area, only Clint remained. He had apparently been assigned as pretend boyfriend.
“I don’t understand why you won’t just consider it?” she ranted as you got off the elevator after telling her you would not be meeting the law clerk.
“Won’t consider what, babe?” Clint asked.
Your sister’s head darted up to look him over. “Babe?”
You sighed and gestured in his direction. “Laura, you know Clint. We’re dating now.”
“Since when?” she snapped.
Clint stood and came over, sliding an arm around your waist before kissing the top of your head. “About three months now, isn’t it?”
You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Laura’s gaze narrowed angrily on you. “And why haven’t you mentioned it?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Clint is a pretty public figure. He likes to keep his private life private.” You did your best to look innocent and reasonable.
“But I am not the public, I’m your sister.”
“My fault,” Clint interjected smoothly. “I asked that it stay between us for now.”
Before your sister could interrogate him further, Friday interrupted. “Natasha is requesting your presence in the armory, Mr. Barton.”
“Tell her I’ll be right there.” He turned to you and kissed your head again. “I’ll see you later.” He looked at your sister. “Lovely to see you again.”
Your gaze trailed him as he left the room.
“Wow.” Your sister’s tone was flat as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re dating a superhero. Really?”
Your brow furrowed as you scowled at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t believe that you could pull that.”
“Are you for real? Weren’t you always a fan of those forced proximity romance novels? We live together, we work together, we’ve been friends for ages. It was a natural progression.”
Bucky sauntered into the room like he owned the place. He gave a nod to your sister then smiled at you. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I got tied up.”
He draped his metal arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side to kiss your temple before nuzzling your hairline. “Missed you.”
And you prayed to every deity you could think of that your sister did not notice how flustered you suddenly were.
Your sister’s arms dropped from where they were still folded over her chest and her gaze moved from you to Bucky and back. “What the hell is this? Do you think I’m stupid?”
Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What seems to be the problem?”
“First Barton is the boyfriend and now you’re in here acting all lovely dovey?” she snapped. “Obviously you’re all lying.”
“Why would you think that?” Bucky argued. “Clint and I have been together for six months.”
Your heart sank and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Your sister was going to go ballistic.
Then Bucky continued. “You can’t honestly think I’d let him date someone without dating them as well.”
Oh. Oh god. You were never hearing the end of this. Your sister would bring this up for years. Every holiday, every family meal. You were so utterly screwed.
Clint came back into the room just as your sister said, “Prove it.”
He came to a stop at your open side. “Prove what?”
“She doesn’t believe the three of us are dating,” Bucky answered, an undertone of glee in his voice.
Clint shrugged, hand finding your chin and turning you to face him. You sucked in a breath at the small distance between the two of you. You could see the question in his eyes and nodded slightly to give him permission. He grinned and then his lips found yours.
What started chaste, quickly escalated as Clint’s tongue traced your lips seeking entrance. You gasped into the kiss and he took that as permission to deepen it. Your head was spinning as he pulled back. He rested his forehead against yours, fingers tracing the side of your face as he smiled.
“My turn,” Bucky announced and you found yourself being rotated to face the super soldier. He paused long enough for you to see his lopsided grin before his lips were on yours. His kiss was needier, more forceful, but no less mind blowing.
It was everything you’d ever imagined from both of them. You were so screwed when your sister left and you all quit pretending. When you had to spend every day being their friend and nothing more.
Laura cleared her throat. “Well, I stand corrected. I’m very happy for you but I wish you had said something earlier. I am your sister after all.” Her voice was tight and you weren’t certain if she was pissed or embarrassed. “I need to get home. I promised Michael I’d make dinner.”
You nodded though she was already turned away from you and headed for the elevator. “Be safe.”
She stepped into the elevator and gave you one last questioning look before the doors closed between you.
Your shoulders slumped. “Thanks guys.” Your voice was quiet.
Clint’s arms hooked around your waist and pulled you into him so you were chest to chest. “We didn’t mean to upset you, baby.” His nose traced along the side of yours.
“What…” you trailed off with a choked sound before clearing your throat. “What are you doing?”
Bucky came up to stand behind you, hands settling on your sides just above Clint’s arms. “You wanted us to be your boyfriends,” he teased and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.
“I just wanted you to pretend. For Laura.”
Clint pulled back to look at your face and hummed. “It can be pretend if you want it to be, but it doesn’t have to be. We’ve been trying to figure out how to approach you for months. Weren’t sure you’d be interested.”
“But that kiss answered that question, didn’t it, baby?” Bucky said in your ear, lips brushing the lobe.
You were absolutely floored that they wanted you as much as you wanted them. “Are you…Is this for real?”
“As real as you want it to be,” Clint assured before his lips found yours again.
Summary: Sam is side-eyeing the cat, but excited to finally hold the baby.
Trigger Warnings: Like none
Author’s Note: So, I thought I had time. And I did for like a day. If this installment sucks, I'm sorry. It was done quickly and posted with little editing. (Also; saw the Gif, had to use it, even though Alpine doesn't hiss. Love The Mummy.)
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Previously: Alpine Against the Fireworks
Sam hovered in the middle of the living room like he was approaching a wild animal, which, to be fair, he was.
Alpine sat perched on the arm of the couch, white fur immaculate, green eyes locked on him with open suspicion. Her tail flicked once, sharp and deliberate.
“She’s judging me,” Sam muttered.
Bucky snorted from beside you. “Yeah? Why are you surprised?”
Sam glanced down at the baby in your arms, his expression softening immediately. “But… I can hold her, right?”
You smiled. “You can hold her.”
He stepped closer, careful, almost reverent, casting one last wary look at Alpine before gently taking the baby from you. The second she settled against his chest, everything changed.
Her face lit up like a switch had flipped.
She cooed, loud and delighted, tiny fingers curling into the fabric of Sam’s shirt. He laughed, a surprised, warm sound, and she answered with another happy noise, kicking her legs like she’d just discovered her favorite person.
“Oh,” Sam breathed, stunned. “Hey there.”
Alpine stiffened.
Her ears flattened. Her body went taut.
Sam noticed immediately. “I see you, Al” he said quietly, not moving, eyes flicking up to the cat. “I’m being good.”
The baby reached up then, chubby hand stretching toward Sam’s face. She brushed his cheek, fascinated, and let out a soft, pleased sound as she settled more fully against him.
Something shifted, then.
Alpine’s ears lifted, not fully relaxed, but forward now. Her tail stopped lashing and loosened into a slow, thoughtful sway. She didn’t move closer, didn’t soften completely, but she didn’t hiss either.
Bucky noticed, eyebrows raising in surprise.
Sam swallowed, voice dropping. “Yeah, okay,” he said softly, as he looked down at the baby. “I get it, Alpine.”
The baby smiled.
“I’d fight a god for her.”
Bucky let out a quiet breath, something like a laugh, something like relief. He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, eyes still on Alpine. “Don’t get cocky,” he said. “From Alpine? That’s probation.”
Sam huffed a soft chuckle. “I’ll take it.”
Alpine blinked once slowly from her perch. It wasn’t approval, but dignified acknowledgment.
After a moment, she turned her head away, deliberately, like she’d decided Sam was no longer an immediate threat.
You felt your chest warm at the sight, but couldn’t resist one small jab. “Aww, see, Sam? She might even let you pet her one day,” you smiled.
Bucky nodded. “Yeah. At the very least that’s her saying you can stay.”
Sam smiled down at the baby, rocking gently as she babbled happily, entirely unaware she’d just negotiated a truce on his behalf.
“Guess I’m honored,” he said quietly.
From the couch, Alpine flicked her tail once more, measured and restrained.
Summary: It's been a week since the new year, but fireworks still going off outside make the baby stir and fuss AGAIN.
Trigger Warnings: Fireworks (the bane of every parent of a young child)
Author’s Note: I'm officially back, baby! I have TIME again!! WOO!
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Previously: Alpine Rings in the New Year
It was just past the first week of January, and somehow people were still setting off fireworks. The baby had been woken up by them multiple times every night and you were two seconds from marching outside in your slippers and starting a neighborhood revolution.
The boom rattled the window, soft but sharp enough to wake the baby. She stirred in her bassinet, tiny face scrunching, a whimper bubbling up in her throat.
“Oh, absolutely not,” you muttered, hands already clenched. “It’s January eighth. Who even—what are they celebrating? A late epiphany?”
Bucky was beside the bassinet instantly, panic flaring in his eyes as the baby let out a soft, distressed cry. “No, no, sweetheart, it’s okay, shhh—don’t wake up, please don’t wake up—”
Another distant crackle sounded from outside.
The baby’s whimper grew and her little fists twitched. Bucky swallowed hard, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “Doll, she’s gonna wake up again—what can we do? I don’t—”
But he didn’t get to finish.
Alpine appeared like a silent ghost, swift and purposeful.
She hopped into the bassinet with the confidence of someone who owned not just the cradle, but the house, the neighborhood, and possibly the entire eastern seaboard.
“Alpine!” you hissed automatically, halfway ready to pull her out, but then she curled herself along the baby’s side, pressing close, her body warm and soft as she began to purr.
And it wasn’t a normal purr. She gave a loud, steady, engine-deep rumble that filled the bassinet like a blanket of sound.
The baby froze, her breath hiccuping once.
And then… she melted back into sleep, face smoothing out, tiny lips parting in a soft sigh.
You felt your shoulders drop all at once.
Bucky exhaled shakily, one hand clutching the edge of the bassinet as if he needed it to stay upright. He stared at the two of them, the baby nestled against Alpine’s fur, Alpine’s tail curled protectively around her feet, and something inside him just broke in the sweetest, softest way.
“She’s got her,” he whispered, voice rough but full of awe. “My God… she’s got her.”
You stepped closer, letting your hand rest between Bucky’s shoulder blades. His breathing steadied under your touch.
Outside, another firework popped. Alpine didn’t even twitch. Her purr only grew louder, drowning out the noise entirely.
The baby slept on, peaceful and safe.
Bucky leaned down and brushed a kiss against the baby’s forehead, then another to the top of Alpine’s head. The cat didn’t acknowledge him, too focused on her self-appointed duty, but the purr softened, just barely, like she approved.
You smiled, tension ebbing from your body. “She’s better at this than both of us put together.”
Bucky huffed a faint laugh. “Yeah. Starting to think she’s the one raising us.”
You squeezed his arm. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
And in the bassinet, bathed in the glow of the nightlight, Alpine kept purring, her tiny white body curled protectively around your daughter, her steady presence turning a noisy night into something gentle again.
Summary: Bucky sets up the tree and Alpine immediately tries to climb it. You joke that the baby is going to learn all the wrong lessons from her big sister.
Trigger Warnings: Cat climbing the tree.
Author’s Note: I don’t care if you ascribe to the Jewish Bucky philosophy. Maybe Reader celebrates Christmas. Maybe they do both and next year baby will get a dreidel and gelt, too. There is no rhyme or reason to how these little stories come about.
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Previously: Alpine's Winter Protest
Setting up the Christmas tree had started peacefully enough.
Bucky hummed quietly to the carols playing on the radio, untangling strings of lights while you sat on the floor with the baby, keeping her distracted with shiny ornaments she wasn’t allowed to touch.
Alpine watched from a distance, her green eyes sharp, her tail swishing with suspicion as the giant evergreen took shape in her living room.
“She’s already plotting,” you warned.
Bucky shot you a look over his shoulder. “It’s fine. She’s just curious. She’s far too wise to climb the Christmas tree.”
You snorted. You were about to argue when you saw a flash of white in your peripheral vision.
“Bucky,” you said flatly.
“What?”
“Your wise cat is halfway up the tree.”
He spun just in time to see Alpine’s tail disappear into the branches, the tree wobbling dangerously under her weight.
“Alpine!” he barked, lunging forward to steady it. “No, no, no—don’t you—”
Too late. A silver ornament bounced off a branch and hit the floor, rolling across the rug. The baby squealed with delight, flailing her arms like this was the best show she’d ever seen.
You burst out laughing. “Oh yeah. Real wise, Buck.”
He groaned, still holding the tree upright.
Alpine peeked out from between the branches, perfectly at ease, as if she were posing for a holiday card. Her fur sparkled faintly with stray tinsel. The baby squealed again, reaching for her big sister.
“Oh, great,” you said. “She’s got an audience now. You know the baby’s gonna think this is normal, right?” Directly to Alpine you added, “You’re setting her up to learn all the wrong lessons.”
Bucky shot you a helpless look. “She’s one year old. She can’t even crawl yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s imprinting. You’re witnessing bad influence in real time.”
Alpine began to climb down, a slow, careful descent that ended with her hopping gracefully to the floor, completely unbothered by the chaos she’d caused. She gave the tree one last assessing glance before curling up beneath it, tail flicking lazily as if daring it to move again.
The baby reached toward her, babbling happily.
“See?” you said, pointing. “Mentor and apprentice. Give it a year, and they’ll be scaling the furniture together.”
Bucky chuckled, setting the ornament back on a branch. “Guess I’ll be the one chasing them both down.”
“Yep,” you said sweetly. “Merry Christmas.”
He shot you a grin, then leaned down to press a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “You hear that, Baby? No tree climbing. That’s a rule.”
You own a dragon cafe. People can come for coffee and something to eat and get a dragon to pet and play with for an hour. Most of the dragons are employed at the cafe, but drop-ins are encouraged as well. The dragons are anywhere from two decades old to fifty, ranging from cat-sized miniature dragons to dragons as big as horses. You love shuttling trays of coffee and pastries around with a dragon or two on your shoulders or clinging to your legs. One day just after closing hours the entire cafe goes dark, like someone flipped a switch for the sun.
You poke your head outside just in time to see a massive dragon land just outside the cafe. It has to be hundreds of years old to get to this size. It looks at the sign on the door that says "all dragons welcome!" and then locks eyes with you. It's way too big to even get in the door. You duck back inside and hang up your apron before you get a selection of leftover pastries and pour a big mug of coffee. The dragon is still there when you walk outside with a blanket tucked under your arm. You spread it over the lawn and sit with your treats.
"Come on," you say warmly, patting your lap.
The dragon lowers its head into your lap, letting out a content sigh as you pet its cheek and scratch under its chin. All dragons deserve love, even the big, scary ones.
Summary: Bucky takes the baby outside bundled in a soft snowsuit. Alpine sits in the window the whole time, yowling indignantly at the door like she wants to make sure you bring them both back in safe.
Trigger Warnings: Baby in the snow. Al's mad.
Author’s Note: I love the idea of Bucky bundling up baby for her first snow. Just absolutely adorable.
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Previously: Alpine's Little Sidekick
The first snow of the season came in slow, soft flakes in lazy spirals drifting past the window like feathers.
You stood at the kitchen counter, coat on, watching Bucky wrestle the baby into her puffy snowsuit by the front door.
“She’s not gonna be able to move in that thing,” you teased, smiling as he fumbled with the zipper.
Bucky grunted, determined. “She’s warm, that’s what matters. She should see her first snow.”
“She will,” you said, chuckling. “She just won’t remember it.”
“She doesn’t have to,” he said softly, smoothing the hood over the baby’s head. “I’ll remember it for her.”
Before you could answer, a familiar voice broke through the quiet: a sharp, indignant mrrrrow! from behind you.
Alpine had jumped up onto the window ledge, tail lashing, green eyes wide and accusatory.
“Oh boy,” you murmured. “Here we go.”
Bucky glanced back. “She’ll be fine. We’re just going out for a few minutes.”
Another mrrrow! Louder this time.
“She doesn’t look convinced,” you said, amused.
Bucky opened the door carefully, the cold air sweeping in. He adjusted his grip on the baby, who looked like a tiny pink marshmallow. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, stepping outside, “let’s show you what snow looks like.”
You followed them out and Alpine’s yowl immediately went up a full octave when you closed the door. She ran from the window to the door and back, pawing at it with surprising force, tail puffed in outrage.
“Oh my God,” you laughed. “She’s yelling at us!”
“I can hear her!” Bucky called back, grinning despite himself. “She’s just mad we didn’t bring her too.”
Bucky knelt in the snow, showing the baby the white drifts that covered the ground. She blinked, fascinated, her mittened hand reaching out to grab at the air.
Alpine stayed glued to the window, pacing now, her little meows turning into frustrated trills. Every few seconds, she looked at you like she was demanding you fix this.
“It’s really okay, Al,” you said back.
Bucky finally turned the baby toward the window. “Look who’s watching,” he said softly, waving a mittened hand toward the glass.
The baby’s face lit up instantly at the sight of Alpine’s white shape framed in the window. She made a tiny, delighted noise, kicking her legs in excitement.
Alpine froze, watching intently. Her tail finally stopped twitching. Then, after a long pause, she pressed her paw against the glass again before sitting down, like she’d decided to forgive your blasphemy, since the baby was happy about the situation.
Bucky smiled at the gesture, heart melting even in the cold. “Yeah,” he murmured to his daughter, “she’s keeping an eye on us. Won’t let me mess this up.”
You laughed softly. “She never does.”
And in the gentle swirl of snow, Bucky just smiled: his arms full, his cat watching, his world safe and small and perfect.
I can't even begin to express how thankful I am for each and every one of you. I'm really excited for this event so please request.
I am opening my entire character list for requests. This includes several that I have never written for before. Click here for the list.
All fics will be x reader. Poly fics with siblings will not include incest.
Please specify female, male or general neutral reader. Default will be fem.
Along with normal requests, you can also request moodboards, gif requests (you send the gif, I write the fic), song fic requests, social media or headcanons
Send me a character and one of the prompts from below the fold.
And if you want to reblog to spread the word, that would be awesome. Thanks again friends!
Trope Prompts:
One bed
roommates
fake dating
Boyfriend's dad
Dad's best friend
Omegaverse
Soulmates
hurt/comfort
secret dating
idiots in love
Angsty Prompts: (let me know if you want a happy ending or not)
Please come get me, I don't feel safe here
saying something horrible during a fight
one packing to leave the other
I need you to stay alive. I don't know how to live without you
Unrequited love
I've spent too long letting my heart break for you. I need to let you go. Please, let me go.
A: I love you. B: No, please don't. Please don't do this
person A's partner is abusive or cheating. Person B is not amused
I was all alone
oh god, you're bleeding
Fluff/general prompts:
wearing each other's clothes
secret family
friends that talk so much about each other everyone thinks they're dating
You're an idiot. But I'm your idiot
what if I kissed you right now
they refuse to listen to anyone but their partner (even if they aren't together yet)
A shows up to rescue B from a bad date
why do we keep pretending we don't want to kiss each other
jealousy
drunken confessions
Sexy prompts (smut not guaranteed)
great my new boss is the person I hooked up with
one marking the other up
sex pollen, etc
don't kink shame me
A: We're just friends. B: Friends don't do this kind of shit
A: Fuck you. B: I'm up for it if you are.
dry humping
god, you feel so fucking good
explicit photos
A: you're not taking me to bed ever. B: who said it had to be a bed.
Darker Prompts:
someone isn't walking out of here today
I don't like it when they touch you
I can't stand the way they look at you
kidnapping
I hear you're alive. How disappointing
you're mine. understand?
we didn't set out to kill anyone that night, but in the end that's what we did.
Surely that's enough to pick from? Thank you again everyone. requests from followers get first priority.
I can't even begin to express how thankful I am for each and every one of you. I'm really excited for this event so please request.
I am opening my entire character list for requests. This includes several that I have never written for before. Click here for the list.
All fics will be x reader. Poly fics with siblings will not include incest.
Please specify female, male or general neutral reader. Default will be fem.
Along with normal requests, you can also request moodboards, gif requests (you send the gif, I write the fic), song fic requests, social media or headcanons
Send me a character and one of the prompts from below the fold.
And if you want to reblog to spread the word, that would be awesome. Thanks again friends!
Trope Prompts:
One bed
roommates
fake dating
Boyfriend's dad
Dad's best friend
Omegaverse
Soulmates
hurt/comfort
secret dating
idiots in love
Angsty Prompts: (let me know if you want a happy ending or not)
Please come get me, I don't feel safe here
saying something horrible during a fight
one packing to leave the other
I need you to stay alive. I don't know how to live without you
Unrequited love
I've spent too long letting my heart break for you. I need to let you go. Please, let me go.
A: I love you. B: No, please don't. Please don't do this
person A's partner is abusive or cheating. Person B is not amused
I was all alone
oh god, you're bleeding
Fluff/general prompts:
wearing each other's clothes
secret family
friends that talk so much about each other everyone thinks they're dating
You're an idiot. But I'm your idiot
what if I kissed you right now
they refuse to listen to anyone but their partner (even if they aren't together yet)
A shows up to rescue B from a bad date
why do we keep pretending we don't want to kiss each other
jealousy
drunken confessions
Sexy prompts (smut not guaranteed)
great my new boss is the person I hooked up with
one marking the other up
sex pollen, etc
don't kink shame me
A: We're just friends. B: Friends don't do this kind of shit
A: Fuck you. B: I'm up for it if you are.
dry humping
god, you feel so fucking good
explicit photos
A: you're not taking me to bed ever. B: who said it had to be a bed.
Darker Prompts:
someone isn't walking out of here today
I don't like it when they touch you
I can't stand the way they look at you
kidnapping
I hear you're alive. How disappointing
you're mine. understand?
we didn't set out to kill anyone that night, but in the end that's what we did.
Surely that's enough to pick from? Thank you again everyone. requests from followers get first priority.
Summary: The baby catches their first cold, and Bucky can hardly bear it, but Alpine hardly leaves baby’s side, curling close when the baby naps, her purring a steady comfort.
Trigger Warnings: Sick baby
Author’s Note: My kid's been sick a lot lately.
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Previously: Alpine's Baby
The baby’s first cold came with tiny sniffles and the smallest, saddest whimpers you’d ever heard.
It broke Bucky.
He tried to stay calm, holding her upright against his chest, walking the living room in slow circles, but every little cough made him wince like it was happening to him. “She’s so little,” he murmured, voice rough. “How can she already be sick?”
“She’ll be okay,” you whispered, brushing your fingers over the baby’s downy hair. “It’s just a cold, Buck. She doesn’t even have a fever.”
He nodded, but the worry didn’t ease. His metal hand bore her weight, his other one rubbing slow circles, as if sheer willpower could heal her.
That’s when Alpine jumped onto the couch and then onto Bucky’s wide shoulders.
She sniffed the baby’s head, her bright eyes softening when she saw her flushed cheeks. Without hesitation, Alpine curled her body around Bucky’s neck, front paws on one side, back paws on the other, and placed her head close to the baby’s, her purr beginning low and steady.
The sound filled the quiet room, deep, rhythmic, and constant.
Bucky froze. “You seein’ this?”
You smiled softly (surreptitiously taking out your phone and snapping a silent photo). “Yeah, I’m seeing this.”
The baby stirred at the vibration, a faint sigh escaping her as she settled deeper into sleep, her little body relaxing in a way that made Bucky’s shoulders drop.
You watched them, Bucky, the baby, and the cat, and saw his expression crumble with relief. “She won’t let me put her down,” he whispered. “And with one purr Alpine makes it all better.”
You brushed a hand along his arm. “She’s helping.”
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, eyes wet. “She’s always helping.”
Alpine shifted slightly, pressing her head a little closer to the baby’s back. The purring deepened, a steady, soothing hum that matched the baby’s breathing until the two seemed to be in perfect sync.
Bucky leaned forward, kissing the baby’s forehead gently. “My girls,” he murmured, voice catching.
He reached for your hand, squeezing it. “All of them,” he said.
The baby slept on, soft breaths steady. Alpine didn’t move, didn’t even twitch an ear. She just stayed there, guardian, nurse, and sister, keeping the rhythm that lulled the room into calm.
By the time Bucky finally exhaled, some of the tension had left his body. “Guess I’m not the only one who can’t stand to see her hurting,” he said quietly.
Pairing: Mafia Steve Rogers x Adopted Stark Reader
warnings: violent death, torture, etc (I don't think it's overly graphic but my kid just looked at me when I said that after he read it so the warning)
a/n: This is the end my friends. Thank you for reading!
The rope that bound your wrists was thick and rough, the kind that dug into your skin as you worked at it. Your hands ached and your blood dripped but all that was temporary. You could outlast it.
You wiggled, flexed and twisted. The chair creaked every time you shifted your weight, the sound loud in the darkness, but no one came to check on you. Lean, tug, relax, pull, twist. Over and over again. The rope burned through your skin as you rubbed it against the edge of the chair. You bit your tongue to keep from making a sound.
Not for the first time, your thoughts turned to Steve. You wondered what he’d say if he could see you now. Probably something like, “Don’t let them win.”
So you didn’t.
It took an hour, maybe two but you finally felt the sudden slack as first one hand slipped free, then the other. You drew your wrists forward, breath hissing as the blood rushed back into your fingers, hot and electric. Fuck. The skin was bruised, torn and raw but it would heal. You flexed your fingers until they hurt less, until you could be sure of their usefulness.
Your fingers found your engagement ring, making sure it was still seated firmly in place. You thumbed the band and wondered how close Steve was to finding you. You stood and moved around until your legs were steady. You grabbed the chair you’d been in and tested its weight. Sturdy but light enough for you to lift easily. Perfect.
You moved so you were standing beside the door, chair in hand. “Excuse me? Can anyone hear me? I need some help please,” you called.
The knob immediately turned and the door swung open. Rumlow must have had someone standing guard. “What do you want?” the thug asked as he reached over to turn on the light.
You swung the chair at his head and continued to do so until he collapsed to the ground. Then did so several more times. If he wasn’t dead, you at least wanted to make sure he was incapacitated.
You wiped the blood on your hands from your ravaged wrists on his shirt then grabbed the pistol tucked into his waistband. You checked the mag to find it full, finding another when you searched his pockets.
In the distance, barely audible at first, came the staccato sound of gunfire. Not close, not yet, but growing nearer every second. You grinned. “Hello, baby.”
You stepped into the hallway, gun up. Adrenaline spiked, dulling your pain as you moved.
A man stepped into your path from one of the rooms off the hall and you put a bullet through his temple. You stepped over him and into the room to make sure it was empty. You didn’t want to take the time to clear the rooms as you went, but you weren’t going to leave anyone at your back.
With a sigh, you set to work checking each door and what lay behind it. The door to the third room opened to two rounds firing into the hall. You peered around the frame and placed two of your own rounds into the chest of the shooter who folded in on himself like a balloon you’d let all the air out of.
There was only one room left in the hall. You reached for the handle only to have the door swing open leaving you face to face with Sam Wilson. You shot, the bullet going wide and catching him in the side. You grabbed the barrel of the shotgun he carried in your other hand. A sharp tug had the weapon pointed at the ceiling as you put a bullet into each of his knees. He released his hold on the gun and collapsed to the ground with a scream. You stood over him as you placed the shotgun out of his reach and searched him for any other weapons.
His pistol found it’s way into your pocket and you picked the shotgun back up. When Sam continued to moan you kicked him in the stomach, which didn’t make him any quieter but it made you feel better.
“Feel like monologuing yet?”
“Fuck you,” he snarled.
You placed one foot on his knee and pressed down slowly as he screamed.
“Okay, okay. Stop.”
You tilted your head and just looked at him, waiting.
“You’ve made him weak. You’ll destroy him. I just wanted to get rid of you. For him,” he explained.
God, he was stupid. “You’re a liar. And a coward. If you really believed any of that you would have killed me yourself.”
“Just get it over with.”
The corner of your lips lifted in a satisfied smile. “Oh, I don’t think I want to deprive Steve of that honor. You wait right here. Someone will be along to collect you.”
You ignored him yelling behind you as you walked out of the room and shut the door behind you. The hall was empty and the sound of gunshots had stopped. Raised voices came from the large room in front of you. Boxes stacked at this end of the room obscured your vision until you stepped out of the hall.
Your eyes ran over the scene in front of you, taking in the bodies littered around like discarded trash and the men on their knees at the other end of the room. Your arrival had gone unnoticed in the chaos. Rumlow was on his knees, hands splayed on the concrete in front of him as blood pooled beneath his face. Steve and your father stood in front of him, weapons drawn and faces sharp with anger. Blood colored the skin of Steve’s fist.
Sharon and Roman cowered a few meters away, Bucky standing guard. Sharon’s face was a perfect mask of fear and you wondered if she practiced in front of the mirror. Her eyes darted from Steve to Rumlow to the door and back, looking for an escape before her new man started talking. Roman was visibly shaking as he breathed in ragged pants.
You stayed in the shadow, watching, wanting to see how this played out for a beat.
“What did you think you were going to accomplish, Rumlow?” Steve asked.
Rumlow straightened and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand before spitting onto the floor. “Fuck you.”
Tony snorted. “You’re not his type.”
Rumlow grinned, showing blood-stained teeth. “No, that’s your girl. Pretty thing. Got a hell of a mouth on her though.”
Your father clipped Rumlow in the head with the butt of his gun. “You don’t talk about her.”
Steve glanced over to Bucky. “Go find her. She’s got to be here somewhere. I’ll take care of this.”
Bucky nodded once and headed in your direction. He stopped as he looked up and caught sight of you. You smiled and gave him a little wave. He crossed the floor to you quickly, eyes running over you assessing your condition. “You good?” he asked when he reached you, keeping his voice low.
You hummed in answer and gestured down the hall. “Saved Sam for you. First door on the left. He’s the one that killed Pietro.”
“Fuck.” He turned toward Steve and opened his mouth, doubtless to announce your presence, when Sharon’s voice cut him off.
“I’m so grateful you’re here, Steve. He took Roman and I first. He didn’t know about the divorce and was going to use us for leverage.”
Steve’s eyes flicked to her, cold and blank.
“I was so scared but I knew—”
You raised the gun, aimed and shot Sharon through the skull, cutting her off mid-sentence.
The report cracked sharp and loud but neither you nor Bucky flinched. Sharon’s head snapped back in a spray of bone and hair that splashed across Roman. He collapsed with a startled cry. Everyone stopped, eyes darting to where you stood, arm extended.
Steve’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. He looked at you like you were the answer to a prayer. Tony exhaled, slow and heavy and ran a shaky hand over his face. Bucky patted your shoulder with a grin and headed down the hall to collect his prize.
You walked to Steve’s side as Clint shoved Roman forward. “This little fucker was trying to crawl away.”
Roman’s lips moved in a wet stammer of ‘please don’t’.
Steve slid an arm around your waist without looking at you, steadying himself as much as you. “I assume that Sharon and Roman knew exactly what was happening?”
“Oh, I dare say it was her idea,” you said.
And just like that, Steve and Tony fired in perfect unison. Roman and Rumlow crumpled to the floor, blood and brains leaking onto the concrete.
Steve was on you before the echo faded, his hands rough and desperate as he gripped your shoulders, your jaw, your wrists. His touch was all over you, urgent as if he could heal the wounds by the force of his attention alone. He pulled you in and crushed you against his chest, the shudder of his breath trembling through both of your bodies. For a second, the blood and the pain and the stink of the warehouse vanished. There was only the press of him against you.
“How badly are you hurt?”
You shook your head as he ran his thumbs alongside the gouges in your wrists. “I’m okay.”
He exhaled and kissed the side of your head.
Tony was next, pulling you into a hug with shaking hands. “You did good, kid.” The words were thick with pride and exhaustion. “You did real good.”
Steve turned you back to face him, hands on your arms. His gaze ran over your face. “What happened, baby?”
You told him everything, leaving nothing out. The call from Morgan, Sam’s betrayal, the warehouse, the escape. Everything.
Tony’s face went cold as you spoke. “Fucking kid. She’s grounded until she goes to college. Maybe longer. And she can kiss that car goodbye.”
You almost laughed, then remembered the gunshot, Pietro falling to the ground. Yeah, she was a scared kid but if she’d only trusted you, this could have all been avoided.
Yelling caught your attention and you turned to find Bucky dragging Sam into the room, leaving a trail of blood behind. He flashed a grin at Steve as he dropped the offering at his feet. “Boss. The Mrs. got you a present.”
Steve pulled you into his side and kissed your head. “It’s just what I wanted.”
When Sam started yelling again, this time for mercy, Steve kicked him in the face knocking him out. He looked at Bucky. “I want to get her home. Clean this up. We’re done here.”
Bucky nodded and gestured at a couple of men to come collect Sam.
Steve led you outside, arm around your waist. Tony walked with you, kissing your cheek goodbye before heading to his own car. Steve opened the back door to his car, guiding you inside before sliding in after you. The driver’s seat was empty and you figured you were waiting for Bucky.
Steve pulled you into his lap and buried his face in your neck, his breath warm and shaky. You stayed like that for a long, slow minute. You were warm wrapped in his arms and the certainty you were safe. That you were home.
His voice was barely a whisper. “I thought I lost you. That we wouldn’t find you in time.”
You cupped his cheek. “Never. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
He laughed, a raw, broken sound, then cupped your face in both hands. “I love you, flutter. So fucking much.”
You blinked, stunned. You knew he loved you. It was in every touch, every word, every action, but he’d never said it before. You weren’t sure he ever would. You smiled, bright and wide. “I love you, too, baby. So fucking much.”
He kissed you then, slow, deep and hungry. It was safe, it was home and it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
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