we've seen both bucky and quinn as the soldier and fenrir but what if it was steve instead that was the winter soldier or captain winter or whatever the fuck they would call him cause you know they would be using his old title to fuck with him but anyway steve falls of the train and bucky puts the plane in the water and later quinn is taken by hydra and becomes fenrir and i am super curious as to what fenrir and steve winter soldier would be like together. or even seeing all three of them
So, I was diving through the inbox and saw this and for some reason got really super inspired?
On Halloween, it’s her. He knew it would be. The man that his team expects she’ll assassinate has women and children locked up in his basement that he plans to sell at an auction once this masquerade ball is over. So, this is personal to her. She’s alone, but he didn’t expect them both to show up. His brain understands that it’s a tactical decision—one is arrested, kidnapped, or killed then the other can continue on with their work. His stupid, lovesick heart wants to believe it’s a desperate attempt to keep distance between themselves and him. He knows some warm memories come back to them when he’s around. Put them all three in the same room? He wants to think it’d make them crack and cave. It’d make them come home with him and that scares them. They want to be wild and free and he threatens that with his promise of domesticity.
There are old stories that he’d heard back in the war. About werewolves that could be cured and turned back into a human. All that needed to be done was to have someone the werewolf trusted and loved whisper their true name. Fuck, he wishes that was true, but those stories don’t talk about what to do if the werewolf doesn’t remember who they used to be. That still doesn’t stop him. Sometimes, all he can ever do is scream their names. He still loves them both. He’ll do whatever he can to make them remember.
When she makes her appearance, the irony of her costume isn’t lost on him. The maroon corset pushes her breasts up and her lips are painted the exact same shade. The hooded cape is, too, and it has velvet material. Rather than the skirt he’s seen other women wear, she’s in black leather pants and boots. Doesn’t make the costume any less of a hot little number, but now it’s more practical should all hell break loose. And it will now that she’s here.
Because it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood that stands in front of him. Here, she’s a hunter. These are the missions where she thrives, he knows. She touches his chest and slides her hands up to his shoulders. When she smiles up at him, it’s sharp. No wonder she’s called Fenrir. She’s the Big Bad Wolf. A predator in sheep’s clothing. But, oh, does she try to play up the innocent act. There’s a little wooden basket in her hand that she pulls something out of. Then, she holds it up between them and sweetly asks, “Apple?”
“Poisoned apples are a different fairytale, sweetheart,” he tells her over the music.
And his back is pressed to the bar. She brackets him in with her arms as she places the apple and her little basket on the bar behind him. But she doesn’t move away. “Aw, I’d never poison you. Just wouldn’t be as much fun without you around.” She wraps her hands around the leather straps of his uniform and pulls him close to her. “Oh, I didn’t wish you a happy Halloween. Why don’t you find a quiet room where I can let you have a treat?”
“And leave you alone to play your tricks?”
“Why do you even bother to pretend you’re here for anyone but me?” Jesus, she’s always made his knees weak when she leans in the way she does now. Hovers her lips over his. “Or that you wouldn’t let me do exactly what I want? All I have to do is say that I haven’t been able to do what I want almost seventy years and you would let me burn the whole world down.”
“Baby, I’d hold the match.” He would. God help him, he would.
That coy and playful smile disappears. She presses her thumb to the dimple in his chin and stares into his eyes. “They really should’ve left you in the ice,” she mourns almost to herself. “My beautiful boy, this world’s too mean for someone with a heart like yours.” Isn’t that a kick in the balls? Because that’s what he’d think about her, back in the war. Good woman like her never should’ve been thrown in war. But then he went and crashed a plane and left her behind to be swallowed up by the nastiest parts of the world. “And look where you’re at now. You’ve taken monsters to bed.”
“You’re not monsters.”
“We are,” she croons. As quick as the emotions came, she’s back to the superficial sensuality. “Because I plan to kill all the men who plan to show at the auction and I’ll love every second. I’ll make them howl. I’ll tear them to pieces and write on the walls with their blood to make all the people like them scared. They’ll have a slow, extremely painful death and that makes me happy. We don’t take orders anymore. Now, we kill because we like it.”
“And all those women and kids locked up, what about them? You plan to let them rot inside their cells?” Her lips purse and she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. “No. You won’t even wait on my team. You think I don’t know about the little network you two have set up to help victims? You two do the same work I do, but you’re as brutal with the bastards as I wish I could be. I wish I could drop this all and come with you two. I want to watch them burn, too.”
She leans in to nip at his earlobe. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Her cheek presses to his. “I’ve never had beard burn before. And I’d be so much happier to kill them all with your come inside me. Want to help me out with that?”
Why the hell does she even bother to ask anymore?
One second she’s there and then she disappears the next. He suspects she does it so on the off-chance that someone clocks him, he won’t be seen with her. Sometimes, he thinks she cares more about his reputation than he does. The world would lose their shit to see him with an ex-Soviet assassin turned mercenary. He could care less.
Like a lovesick pup, he follows after her. She never makes it hard. A door is cracked open on an upper floor and he sneaks inside the emptied office. She’s sprawled back on the leather couch and smirks at him, pleased as punch. As he locks the door behind him, he notices some drawers are open to the desk on the other side of the room. Papers strewn across the floor. It’ll probably be information about the people who host the auction, will attend it, and all their known associates. A head-start for his team, but she and her partner are always one step ahead of them. It’s a courtesy. An excuse. Natasha and Sam tend to not ask questions when he’s not empty-handed.
“Y’know, here lately, you look real tense in all the pictures I see of you, Cap,” she drawls in the southern accent that makes his heart ache. “Why don’t you c’mon over here, huh? I know how to help you relax.” She spreads her legs, a blatant invitation, and pops the button of her pants.
And he shouldn’t because the more he does this with them both, the more he falls back in love with them. No doubt, they’re all on the road to ruin and his heart will end up broken, but he’ll ride this out. They’ve always been his addiction. He tried, before he knew they were alive, to sleep around in hopes he could…could feel more than the ice and the pain and the loneliness. It never worked. Man or woman, he couldn’t even get it up. They’re it. They’re the ones for him.
Before he knows it, he’s down on his knees between her parted thighs. He rubs his cheek against her inner thigh, nipping at her soft, pale skin. He takes a deep breath and his eyes almost roll back in his head. He hasn’t seen her in months. Been even longer since he tasted her. “Fuck, it’s true. You canbe cruel. To make me go all this time without tasting this sweet pussy.” She starts to chuckle breathlessly, but it morphs into a quiet sigh at the first press of his mouth on her. “I missed your cunt, y’know that?” She fists his hair and moans quietly. “Come home with me. I’ll spend the rest of my days between your legs.”
“Well, isn’t that a pretty offer.” She tilts her head back and her eyes flutter shut. He licks into her and she finally unclasps the front of her corset. He knows she plans to touch herself, but he reaches up before she has the chance. “Fuck,” she whispers as he rolls a nipple between metal fingers. “Oh, that mouth of yours makes me want to climb in bed with you and never leave,” she gasps. “You make me want to do a lot of things I shouldn’t.”
He slides back up her body and presses his mouth to hers. They kiss while he fumbles to get his dick out. Her hands slide over his and she helps him, uncharacteristically patient. Something changed in her after that confession. Her kisses and her touches are charged with emotion now. He touches his forehead to hers as he slides inside her. It’s burning hot here. Hotter than she ever was in the war. He tucks his face in the crook of her neck and rolls his hips. The keen she replies with and the way she reaches down to dig her fingers into his ass spurs him on.
“Моя луна,” she whispers like a prayer. She runs one hand through his hair and has the other wrapped around his shoulders. His pelvis is rubbing on her right. Her legs are shaking and each hot breath near his ear pitches higher and higher. “Я мечтаю о тебе каждую ночь. Я вою только для тебя. Я тебя хочу. Я не имею права. Волки вечно гоняются за луной.” Then, her body clenches up and she’s coming.
It doesn’t take long for him to follow after her. As he spills inside her, he breathes out, “Quinn.” He leans back so he can stare her in the eyes. He cups her cheek and his heart is in his throat. “Stay with me. Please.” Fear is in her eyes. The first time he’s ever seen it this side of the century. Is she scared because she wants it? It’s so close. She’s so close. “Quinn, baby doll, please don’t leave this time. Come back with me. Make my place a home.”
Quinn doesn’t stay and the kiss she leaves him with tastes like a goodbye, or so she tries to convince herself. But Bucky knows the next time he sees her, she’ll stay.
—
Once upon a time, a heartbroken woman had been lured into the deep, dark woods. Lured by a mindless beast that wore the face of her soulmate. The bastards that took her soulmate wanted to take her, too. They had reasoned she could be the fair maiden to soothe the rabid animal they’d turned her soulmate into. That woman she used to be…she was swallowed up in the darkness. And the darkness won, but her captors sure as hell didn’t. They had no idea. Didn’t know that there are wolves. There are stories about wolves and girls. Girls in red, all alone in the woods, about to get eaten up. Dumb assholes didn’t stop to think that wolves and girls both have sharp teeth.
—
Different person, but the story ends the exact same.
There’s no one in his hotel room when Bucky walks inside, but when he comes out of the bathroom after a shower, Steve is there. Propped back against the headboard. This time, he doesn’t even bother to talk. Just slides off the mattress, pulls his shirt up over his head, and moves into Bucky’s space to furiously kiss him.
So, here Bucky is, on his back. Bottom lip between his teeth as Steve looms above him. Sinuously rolling his hips and Bucky doesn’t think he can get any deeper inside Steve, but goddamn does Steve try. Steve hunches over, touches his cheek against Bucky’s, and Bucky usually takes that as the go-ahead to bend his knees and put his back into it. That doesn’t happen this time, though.
Steve loosely wraps a hand around Bucky’s throat. “You have some nerve, Barnes,” he husks into Bucky’s ear. “To make her cry the way you did. To think you can take her away from me.” Steve squeezes, only a little, only a threat. The danger that suddenly radiates from Steve should not turn Bucky on. “I’ve killed men for less. For simply looking at her. You’re lucky that you fuck me so good. I’d miss your cock too much if I slit your throat here.”
Bucky’s the definition of dumb fuck. The last thing he should do is stoke Steve’s fiery temper. “Jealous, baby boy? You scared she’ll wizen up and take me up on my offer? God forbid she not want her hands bloody anymore.”
Steve chuckles and it’s low and dark and sends sparks up Bucky’s spine. “Do you reallythink that’s my problem? Do you think I don’t want her to have peace? No, you’rethe problem. You—” he catches Bucky by the chin and squeezes so hard Bucky thinks his jaw may break. “You can’t protect her,” he whispers into Bucky’s mouth. “I didn’t have a choice when I went down. You did. You left her all alone, Buck.” Jesus Christ, his boy’s always known how to make it hurt. “I’mthe one who protected her all these years. I have the scars on my back to prove it.” He kisses Bucky, gasping because he’s about to come. “You don’t deserve to have that shield.”
It’s fucked up that that’s the moment Bucky comes. And Steve’s always been hot for having a load inside him as much as their girl, so streaks of white are coating their stomachs the next second. “Fuck, Steve, I know. Don’t I fuckin’ know it.”