#mercenary!steve rogers
Text
•°∘∗ the expedition ∗∘°•
summary: you’re about to make the discovery of a lifetime, so why is it you find yourself more focused on the man you’ve hired to keep you alive?
pairing: mercenary!steve rogers x archeologist!female reader
warnings: SMUT (18+, minors DNI), swearing, mention of: torture, blood, death, alcohol, violence, and knives.
length: 6.8k
a/n: written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded. inspired by national treasure, the mummy (1999), and similar adventure films. the premise of this fic is based on fact/real legends, then the rest is the result of my imagination.
“Steve Rogers?”
The man hums in answer, his gaze fixated on the small television mounted above the bar.
Offering your hand, you introduce yourself. “We spoke on the phone.”
His head leisurely turns, and though they’re hidden behind dark sunglasses, you feel his eyes as they sweep over you before he accepts your outstretched hand.
“You want me to take you into the jungle.”
Glancing down at his hand as it engulfs yours, you can’t tell if he’s asking a question or stating a fact.
Either way, you respond with “Jake said you were the best man for the job.”
Sort of.
[2 DAYS PRIOR]
“Are you crazy?” Jake gawks, “I mean, yes, you’re crazy, but this is like a whole new level for you.”
“I’m not here for your opinion.” You assert, resting your palms on his desk and leaning forward. “I just need someone to take us, someone who knows the area.”
Running a hand through his spiked hair, Jake replies “Look, I know a few guys there but none are gonna buy what you’re selling. Treasure hunters are a dime a dozen in South America.”
“Explorers.” You correct, heaving a sigh. “C’mon, there has to be one guy willing.”
“I’m telling you there’s not.”
Slapping your hands on his desk, you straighten up. “Fine then, we’ll go alone.”
“What?” Jake splutters, “You wouldn’t, you - fuck, you would.” He groans.
Glaring at you for a moment, Jake shakes his head before rummaging through the papers strewn across his desk.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous Ecuador is? Do you know how many explorers die there each year?” He lectures.
“Why do you think I’m here?” You retort.
Muttering under his breath, Jake finds what he’s looking for and meets your unyielding gaze. “I’m not saying he’ll do it, but if you have a chance with anyone, it’s Rogers.”
You grab the small piece of paper Jake holds out to you, but his tight grip stops you from taking it.
“He won’t be cheap.” Jake warns.
“Of course.”
A few seconds pass before he relinquishes the paper to you.
Smiling sweetly, you pocket it. “Thank you Jake.”
Huffing, he gestures to the door. “Go.”
Your smile grows at his exasperated demand - which you quickly obey.
Jake’s voice calls out behind you just as you open his office door.
“Don’t tell Rogers what you’re looking for!”
[PRESENT]
Releasing your hand, Steve pushes up from the bar stool.
You have to tilt your head up and up as you watch him reach his full height.
“That was awfully nice of him.” Steve states dryly, his attention returning to the football game occuring on the television. “You didn’t say why you wanted to go into the jungle.”
Right.
“Well, I’m an -”
A low whistle interrupts you, drawing both your and Steve’s attention.
“Maxwell.” You greet the approaching man, smiling through gritted teeth.
Ignoring you, Max looks Steve up and down before announcing “Perfect, you’re just the kind of brute we need.”
He’s not wrong. Steve Rogers is built like a brick shithouse and most definitely suited for the task at hand.
Stopping beside you, Max extends his hand. “You must be Steve Rogers, I’m Max.”
Giving a small nod, Steve shakes his hand before aptly reminding you both “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
You keep your lie brief.
“As I was saying, we’re here to study specific sections of the Amazon rainforest for a thesis I’m working on.”
Throwing an arm around your shoulders, Max helpfully - and truthfully, adds “She’s an archaeologist.”
Steve studies you both, his face expressionless.
Your stomach drops.
He doesn’t believe us.
“You’re treasure hunters.” Steve declares, confirming your fear.
“Actually, we’re explorers.”
Continuing on like you hadn’t spoken, Steve says “And I’m guessing you’re after the treasure of Llanganates.”
“Good guess.”
Sighing at Max's admission, you try again “We’re -”
“Listen,” Steve cuts off. “The jungle and mountain ranges here are no joke, and I’m not risking my life just so you two can come to the same conclusion as every other schmuck that’s gone looking for that treasure, which is that it doesn’t exist.”
Your jaw drops at his words. “I’m no schmuck Mr. Rogers and just because you don't -”
“We’ll pay you well.” Max intervenes, shooting you a wary glance as you glare up at the large man.
Steve places his hands on his hips, his attention still on you while you bite your tongue.
You swear his lips twitch with a smirk.
Asshole.
“How much?” Steve eventually asks, turning his head to Max.
“How much do you want?” Max grins.
Silence falls as Steve mulls over the question.
“Five thousand a day.”
Your jaw drops again. “No way!”
“Done.”
Baffled, you gape at Max. “That’s an insane amount.”
Lifting his arm from your shoulders, he shrugs “This is an insane trip.”
All you can do is stare as Max holds his hand out to Steve once more, stipulating “Five thousand a day for you to take us exactly where we want to go and to keep us from dying horrible deaths.”
Nodding, Steve shakes his hand. “Deal.”
You should feel ecstatic.
“Well then, when do we leave?” Max asks, “We’re currently staying at the Tesoro Inn.”
“First I need to know where we’re going.”
Both men turn to look at you.
Reaching into your jean pocket reluctantly, you pull out the map you outlined the beginning of your expedition on and hand it over to Steve.
Unfolding it, he studies the red line. “It’s incomplete.”
Of course, genius.
“You can see the rest when you get us that far.” Arms crossed, you raise your eyebrows, all but daring him to argue back.
Steve regards you from behind his sunglasses before stating “We’ll meet in front of the inn tomorrow morning at five thirty.” As an afterthought he adds “Make sure you pack light.”
You can’t prove it of course, but you just know he’s directing that last comment at you.
Narrowing your eyes, you’re dragged away by Max before you can utter a scathing response.
Steve’s mouth twitches again.
[THE NEXT DAY]
You stand outside the inn, watching as the sun begins to peek above the horizon.
“So he’s an ass and terrible at keeping time.” You announce in a cheery tone.
Max groans, taking a sip of his coffee.
I suppose after last night he’s probably had enough of me ranting about Steve Rogers.
“Darling, please, just ignore his personality and focus on his good looks.”
You scoff loudly.
“Oh, don’t even try.” Max laughs, “I know how much of a sucker you are for big arms and hands.”
Whatever.
A voice you unfortunately recognise calls out, “Good morning.”
Looking over your shoulder at Steve’s approaching figure, you use the barrier of your sunglasses to properly appraise him for the first time.
Steve’s tall and built, that much you had observed yesterday afternoon.
His hair is dark blond and long, the ends of it curling against the collar of his shirt while some strands fall around his face and over his still present sunglasses. The beard he has is thick and you’ll forcibly admit it’s the best you’ve ever seen.
You weren’t typically one for beards, but he made it work.
Similar to yesterday, Steve wears a long sleeved shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows and khaki military pants held up by a brown belt. Over one shoulder he carries a backpack while a duffel bag hangs from his left hand.
“Mr. Rogers,” You greet with a faux smile. “How nice of you to finally join us.”
Steve grins, coming to a stop in front of you. “Retract those claws kitten, I had to secure our ride.”
As if on cue, the loud rumble of an engine cuts through the peaceful morning air as an old pickup truck comes coasting around the corner, pulling up before you all.
“This must be the new Bentley model,” Max quips good-naturedly.
The older man hanging out of the driver’s window gives a rough laugh. “Ah, un comediante.”
“Solo medio tiempo.” Max retorts, earning another laugh.
Chucking his bags into the bed of the pickup, Steve grabs yours and Max’s off the ground and adds them to the pile. Twisting back to you, Steve extends a hand for the satchel slung across your body.
You shake your head, grasping tightly at the brown leather strap.
He raises an eyebrow but makes no further comment, instead gesturing to the bed of the pickup. “Alright you two, hop in.”
While you and Max climb into the back, Steve rounds the pickup and gets in the passenger side.
Max knocks twice on the back of the cab once you’re both seated and the pickup rolls forward with a loud bang, rocking the two of you sideways.
Resting a heavy arm around your shoulders for stability as you each sway with the motion of the pickup on the dirt road, Max states “I love riding in the bed of trucks, reminds me of -”
“Arizona.” You finish with a soft smile.
“Yep,” Max pops the p. “Where we found nothing but rock.”
“And got burnt to a crisp for our efforts.” You recall, looking up at him as he laughs.
“Let’s pray this expedition proves more fruitful.”
“It will.” You answer without a second thought, clutching your satchel again. “This time is different.”
Arizona had been a spur of the moment idea, something to do for fun and experience - nothing more. There’d been no prior research, no maps, no coordinates.
Humming, Max leans forward and grabs the rolled up sleeping bag from his backpack, placing it between the cab and his head before closing his eyes. “Tell me about it again.”
Settling against his chest, you recite the story you know by heart.
“In 1532, Spanish conquistadores captured an Inca Emperor named Atahualpa who promised them a room full of gold and twice as much silver in exchange for his life. The conquistadores agreed and soon treasures from across the region were being brought to them. However, the conquistadores’ fear of a re-energised Inca military led them to kill the Emperor before the ransom was fulfilled.”
“An Inca General named Rumiñahui had been en route with an enormous amount of treasure for the Emperor’s ransom when he learnt that Atahualpa had been killed. In response, Rumiñahui ordered his men to take the ransom into the uninhabited land of Llanganates and hide it.”
"Rumiñahui continued to haul even more gold, silver, jewels, and Inca artefacts to hide in Llanganates until he was captured by the Spanish. They tortured him for the treasure’s location, but he refused to tell them.”
“He’s a better man than me,” Max mumbles.
“In 1603, a Spaniard named Valverde married an Inca woman and claimed that her family showed him the treasure. Before his death, he wrote out the treasure’s location and even drew a map to guide others to it.”
“People have used and improved Valverde’s map for centuries trying to find the treasure, and the last person to have claimed finding it was Barth Blake in 1886. In a letter he detailed his discovery of gold, silver, emeralds, and other treasures, and stated that he, nor a thousand men could remove all that he had found.”
“So in over a century no-one has claimed to have found even a piece of the treasure?” Max questions, opening his eyes and looking down at you.
Lifting your head from his chest, you shake it. “Plenty have tried. A man named Mark Honigsbaum wrote a book in 2004 about his attempt. He concluded that either the Incans retrieved the treasure centuries ago or it’s been lost forever in the mountains.”
“You believe it’s still in the mountains, right?”
“Yes, in its original hiding spot, just not where it’s marked on Valverde’s map.”
Max huffs, “Why can’t they just say ‘go to this place, here’s the treasure, spend it wisely’?”
You chuckle, but both you and Max know you don’t - can’t agree with his sentiment.
Finding the location of this treasure has been your sole purpose for years. You’ve lived and breathed this lost piece of history for so long that you almost felt a part of it.
To be able to find something that you couldn’t simply be given a map to was everything to you. You’ve earned the coordinates sitting in your satchel through your own hard work and time - so much time.
Succeeding at this would be your life’s greatest achievement.
As well as your greatest honour. The artefacts, like tiles from the Temple of the Sun, stowed away with that gold and silver were invaluable pieces of lost Inca culture that deserved to be returned to the people and shared with the world.
“How much is it all worth?” Max asks with a whimsical smile.
Sighing, you give him the answer he already knows, but just likes hearing. “Thirty-seven billion dollars, at least. However its historical significance is priceless."
Max squeezes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even further into his side. "Well seeing how you’re in it for the history, I guess you’ll have no qualms with me taking ninety percent.”
“Ninety?” You repeat, shocked. “That’s generous of you, I expected you to take at least ninety-nine.”
Pressing his mouth to the top of your head with a loud smack, Max states “You underestimate my love for you.”
[SOME HOURS LATER]
“Looks like we’ve reached the end of the road.” Max announces once the pickup has slowed to a stop.
You wouldn’t exactly call what you’ve been driving on for the past few hours ‘road’.
A door creaks open before being slammed shut.
“Alright kids,” Steve appears to your right, reaching for the bags. “This is our stop.”
Your legs wobble when you stand and your ass is completely numb from sitting so long.
Gingerly, you lower yourself out of the back of the pickup and walk over to Steve, Max ambling behind you.
Collecting your backpack off the ground, you straighten up as the pickup rolls forward with its signature loud bang and makes a u-turn.
“Buena suerte!” The driver calls out as he passes, raising a hand.
“Gracias!” You and Max return, waving back.
Sliding your sunglasses up onto your head, you turn around to face the famed Amazon rainforest and take a deep breath.
This is it.
“Please, after you.” Max smiles at Steve, sweeping his arm out towards the mass of green.
Dutifully, Steve pulls out a machete from the holder around his thigh and steps forward into the awaiting wilderness.
[SOME HOURS LATER]
The first few hours of the trek are completed in silence.
You listen to the soundtrack of the Amazon, admiring the nature around you while getting tripped up by it more often than not.
It’s thick - and humbling.
There are trees that stretch up so high they must almost touch the sky, and their trunks are so wide that you can see nothing else when standing in front of them.
Unfortunately, none of it can distract you from the heat.
The humidity is like nothing you’ve ever experienced and the sun isn’t even at its highest point yet - not that you can see it.
You removed your long sleeved shirt a while ago, stuffing it into your backpack with your sunglasses. This left you in a dark green tank top and brown hiking pants.
“We’ll take a break here.” Steve declares, breaking the long silence.
Pushing your backpack off your shoulders, you take a seat on it and pull out your water bottle, taking a greedy gulp.
“I miss the truck.” Max sighs forlornly, collapsing beside you.
His skin is shiny with sweat, just like yours.
You pat his back sympathetically.
“I thought you were looking for the treasure of Llanganates.” Steve says suddenly, sitting on a fallen tree across from the two of you.
You think it’s a question, but his tone makes it sound like a statement.
He likes doing that.
“We are.” You retort.
“Your map doesn’t follow Valverde’s.”
Surprised, your eyebrows rise. “You’re familiar with Valverde’s map?”
“Do you really think you two are the first I’ve taken on this wild goose chase?”
Raising your chin defiantly, you assert “We’ll be the first to find it.”
Steve smiles at your confidence. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see kitten, but I’ll keep my bet on you going home empty-handed.”
“Oh, I like a good bet, what are we waging?” Max pipes in.
You roll your eyes while Steve’s sunglasses continue to hide his.
After a moment your guide decides “If we find the treasure, my services will be rendered free.”
Max scoffs a laugh “How kind, and what percentage of the treasure will you be asking for?”
Steve smirks, “Nothing absurd, just one percent.”
Which would only work out to about three hundred and seventy million dollars.
Yeah, nothing absurd.
To Max, it’s a bargain.
“I knew I liked you for a reason." He grins, picking himself up and walking over to Steve to shake on their bet.
“When we find the treasure we will be donating it.” You deadpan.
“Ignore her.” Resting his hands on his hips, Max says “She doesn’t understand greed like the rest of us simpletons.”
Steve hums in agreement, “You’ve got finder’s fee written all over you kitten.”
“Would you not call me that?” You glare.
His mouth twitches.
“I thought it was fitting.” Max mumbles from where he stands.
“And yes Mr. Rogers, we will be donating the treasure and accepting whatever finder’s fee we’re offered.”
Standing up, you place your backpack on, deciding for the group that the rest period is over.
As you stride away, you hear Max mutter to Steve “Don’t worry, we can fill our bags with goodies before the museum stiffs show up.”
[THAT NIGHT]
You sit in front of the small campfire Steve built earlier as a light source.
Heat isn’t something you’re in short supply of.
Max is lying in his sleeping bag on the ground beside you while Steve sits across from you both, on the other side of the fire.
He’s finally removed his sunglasses, but the night hides Steve’s eyes just as well as his shades. Instead of colour, all you see in his eyes is the reflection of the flickering flames between you.
“I was thinking -”
“Uh-oh.”
“Shut up.” Max sighs, lifting his hand to slap your closest arm. “I was thinking about what you said about that Blake guy, the one who wrote the letter saying he found the treasure.”
“Hmm?” You prompt.
“Well, it sounded like he really found it, so why didn’t he take it?”
“Blake took what he could carry, planning on -”
“Returning with more men and supplies to retrieve the rest, but on his way to New York from Ecuador he disappeared overboard. Most believe he was deliberately pushed to keep the treasure safe.”
Your head snaps towards Steve and he smirks at your reaction.
“Once again, not my first goose chase kitten.”
You’re about to tell him once again not to call you that, but Max speaks first, clearly trying to avoid another back and forth.
“What’s your deal anyway? How’d you end up in this hot ass country?”
Steve’s smirk fades as he shrugs, his expression hardening.
You side-eye Max.
Good one idiot.
“There’s not much to it.” Steve states. “I used to be in the military, now I’m not. Now I choose what jobs I do, which is usually anything that pays well.”
The fire crackles.
“What about you two?” Steve retorts. “Rich kids with nothing better to do? I can’t tell if you’re related or dating -”
“Ew.” You groan, pulling a face.
“We are not related, nor are we dating.” Max informs.
“And he’s the rich kid.” You add, gesturing down at Max.
“Yep, she just mooches off of me and I mooch off my dad.”
That earns a chuckle from Steve.
“His dad is the director of one of the most respected museums in the world.” You elaborate. “I interned there while completing my degree, which is how we met.”
It’s hard to believe that was almost three years ago. When you first met Max you certainly had no idea how important he’d become in your life.
You’ll never forget the first thing he ever said to you.
“So, do you consciously dress yourself like Rachel Weisz in ‘The Mummy’ or is that just an odd coincidence?”
[THE NEXT DAY]
“I take back my complaints about the jungle.” Max mutters, observing the swamp.
Midday has just passed and so has the first and shortest section of your expedition - the rainforest.
Now the wetland awaits you all. You estimate that it’ll take roughly three days to get through.
Three days of mud, stench, and the feeling of being constantly wet.
“Staring at it isn’t gonna get us through it any faster.” Steve asserts, taking the first step into the green water.
Everyone has tucked the ends of their pants into their thick socks to try and limit as much contact with the water as possible.
You follow after Steve, Max trailing behind you with a reluctant sigh.
It’s slow-going, trying to avoid branches and rocks hidden beneath the water’s surface that Steve finds with the long stick in his hand. The same stick he uses to avoid deceivingly deep puddles.
However, you soon miss the relative easiness of trekking through the water once you’ve reached the mud.
Loud suction sounds are all that can be heard as the three of you trudge through the mud that swallows your feet and then some with every step, a dark line on your pants indicating the highest it’s reached - halfway up your calves.
It takes all of your strength to free yourself, just so you can do it all over again.
“My legs are going to be ripped after this.” Max pants.
You can only huff a breath in response, too focused on pulling your feet from the mud. The suction is so strong you’re worried you might lose a boot - or two.
It also doesn’t help that your backpack feels like it’s full of bricks.
“Oh thank god, solid ground.” Max announces gratefully.
You look up - not to see if he’s telling the truth, but to see why he sounds so far away.
Wasn’t he just beside me?
“Shit.” You mutter to yourself.
Both men have made better progress than you. Max has spotted the solid ground because Steve now stands on it.
Staring back down at your engulfed feet, you grit your teeth and use every bit of strength you have left to try and quicken your pace. Every hour of daylight was precious and there wasn’t much left of today’s.
Maybe it’s their longer legs or strength - Max isn’t that much stronger than me, or maybe their backpacks simply don’t weigh a million tonnes -
God my legs are burning.
Then suddenly, it’s like a weight is lifted.
Because it is.
Your backpack is pulled from your shoulders before Steve places it over his own, his bags deserted on the hard ground ahead.
“Oh.” You squeak, startled by his presence. “Uh, thank you - wait, what - put me down!” You demand as you’re lifted from the mud with an echoing pop.
Steve’s hands grasp your hips as he pulls you out with what seems to be little effort, his arms bulging with the action. Then you’re upside down, thrown over one of his broad shoulders.
“Are you a caveman? You can’t just manhandle me!” You protest, affronted.
You brace your hands on his lower back, trying to hold yourself up so your face doesn’t bump into his back.
Is he just all muscle?
He’s rock solid underneath your hands.
Steve chuckles, “I just did kitten.”
“Would you -”
“Time is valuable out here, we can’t wait around for you to finish playing in the mud.”
Glaring at the mud beneath you, you insist “Put me down or I’ll fire you.”
It’s a very weak threat since you and Max kind of need him, but it’s all you’ve got.
Also… maybe you kind of don’t want him to put you down.
Maybe.
Another chuckle. “You didn’t hire me, nor are you the one paying me.”
“You know what -”
“Quit whining!” Max calls out, sounding close. “I told him to go get you, I want out of here.”
“See? I’m just doing what the boss asked.”
“How noble of you Mr. Rogers.” You mumble.
“Well it’s a nice change of scenery kitten.”
It takes a moment for you to understand his meaning, but it’s obvious when you do, your sharp inhale of air audible as you open your mouth to tell him to go -
You squeak again as you’re abruptly dropped onto your feet.
“And stop with the Mr. Rogers talk.” Steve says, shrugging off your backpack and hooking it over your left shoulder before you can snatch it from him.
Dropping his head so that he’s looking into your eyes - his are still hidden behind those damn sunglasses, Steve purrs “But if you insist on being so formal, sir will do just fine.”
Your mouth falls open and Steve moves out of the way with a chuckle when you attempt to swing your backpack at him.
The absolute -
Max appears beside you and grabs your arm lightly, urging you forward as Steve continues trekking ahead.
“Please remember we need him alive.” Max implores.
[THAT NIGHT]
“Now will you admit to me that he’s hot?”
“Shut up.” You snap at Max, shooting him a glare.
“Just look at his -”
Covering his mouth with your hand, you raise your eyebrows in warning.
You’re sitting on a log in front of the campfire not admiring Steve in the distance, illuminated by the torch on the ground beside him as he changes shirts for the night and -
Max snorts against your hand, making you drop it as your gaze quickly shifts to the fire while Steve changes into a different pair of pants.
Can’t he do that somewhere more private?
“Oh darling, you’d love his thighs, have a look -”
“Would you shut up?” You hiss.
“Too bad it’s dark,” Max carries on. “I can’t really see what his underwear is hiding - ow!”
Whack. “Shut.” Whack. “Up.” Whack.
“Alright, alright.” He surrenders, rubbing his arm. “Jesus, you’re in one of your violent moods today.”
Then, as if he can’t resist - because he can’t, Max smirks “Unlike Harry, I bet he’d actually know how to -”
“Oh my god -”
“Who’s Harry?”
You jump at the sound of Steve’s voice and your hand freezes midair, interrupted on its way to hit Max again.
“No one.”
“Her ex.”
I will murder you before sunrise - that’s what the look you direct at Max promises.
Steve hums, taking a seat on the other side of the fire. “And what didn’t he know how to do?”
His smirk tells you he’s already assumed.
I want to die.
No.
I want them to die.
“Cook.” You declare, glaring at him. “He didn’t know how to cook.”
“Was terrible at it,” Max reinforces with a sad tone.
You have to refrain from rolling your eyes.
“That’s a shame.” Steve states in his deep voice, a hint of laughter detectable in it. “Every man should know how to cook.”
“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Max inputs.
Fucking hell.
The comment is probably a little harsh, but Max is your best friend.
Harry had been your first and last attempt at a relationship. He’d been nice enough but… well, that was it really. Just nice, tolerable… passionless. You’d stick to the fictional men in your romance novels.
“Can you cook Steve?” Max asks, as casual as ever.
You turn to him with wide eyes.
“I’m a great cook.” You can clearly hear the laughter in Steve’s voice now.
“Of course you’d think that.” You jab, looking from Max to him.
Steve meets your irritated gaze over the fire with a smirk. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Well,” You shrug, biting back “Doesn’t mean they walked away satisfied.”
“I wouldn’t say they walked.”
Max chortles next to you, choking on his own spit while heat floods your face and neck.
“Okay.” Standing abruptly, you state “I’m going to bed.”
Their laughter follows you all the way to your sleeping bag.
[TWO DAYS LATER]
“I smell so bad.”
“I’m glad you said it.”
“Oh, because you smell so much better.” You mock, eyeing Max.
The wetland has been punishing. You’re covered in mud, bug bites, and drenched in your own sweat - not to mention every part of your body aches. It’s unpleasant, to say the least.
In an attempt to distract yourself, you decide to tell Max some more historical fun facts.
Well, they’re fun to you.
“You know, Valverde drew the map to the treasure before his death because he wanted to give it as a gift to the King of Spain.” You begin, “The King sent out an expedition to find the treasure but -”
“They were unsuccessful - obviously, and the friar that was accompanying them died in a swamp.” Steve gazes around, “Possibly this one.”
You purse your lips at his interruption, but can’t find it within yourself to be annoyed.
“Also,” You try again, addressing Max. “The Spanish conquistadors would constantly dig up large quantities of platinum while searching for gold and while we know platinum to be more valuable than gold -”
“They dismissed it as junk because being so rare, they didn’t know what it was. All they knew was that it wasn’t gold, so they would dump it as scrap.” Steve concludes, his shade covered eyes looking over at you.
“They threw away one of the rarest and most precious metals on Earth because their lust for gold, something that only had value because they gave it value, blinded them to the true, unique treasure right in front of them.”
It feels like the air has been knocked out of your lungs.
Forcing a huff, you feebly respond “Would you stop that?”
“Stop what?” Steve smirks.
That damn, all-knowing smirk.
“Knowing… things.”
Wow, good one. You really got him.
Steve’s smirk widens into a grin. “Why kitten? You like it when I talk smart?”
Yes, it makes me want to climb you like a tree.
“No, I just prefer not being interrupted.”
“Someone please correct me if I’m wrong.” Max pipes up, “But is this hellhole about to end?”
You gaze ahead and see that Max hasn’t gone mad. The wetland is indeed about to end.
“We’ll set up camp on the outskirts of the swamp.” Steve directs, glancing at his watch. “Tomorrow we’ll head into the grasslands, there’s a lake on our path that we should reach by the afternoon.”
[THE NEXT AFTERNOON]
“It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Max sighs lovingly, admiring the lake. “I dibs using it first.”
You shrug, “Whatever.”
After three days covered in filth, what harm could waiting an hour or so longer do?
Besides, you wanted to take your sweet, sweet time.
Leaving Max at the lake, you and Steve trek up over a small hill beside it. There’s a few trees here, but they’re slim and spaced out, unlike in the rainforest.
Steve selects a spot at the bottom of the hill to set up camp, giving anyone using the lake some privacy.
Max wanders down a little while later, after everything has been set up and a small fire is burning steadily.
You tell Steve he can go next and he’s quick to rise.
It feels like you wait an eternity, but you know it’s just your eagerness to be clean that drags the time out.
The moment you spot Steve coming over the hill you’re on your feet, heading for the lake.
At the lakeside you remove your clothes, leaving your bra and underwear on. You soak your clothes first, scrubbing them clean before laying them out over the rocks around the lake to soak up the afternoon sun.
Finally, you delve into the lake’s cool waters.
You don’t rush, taking the time to rub every part of yourself spotless. Afterwards you lie on your back and float around the lake.
When your face starts to feel too hot from the sun, you submerge yourself underneath the water and hold your breath for as long as you can before coming back up.
Breaking the surface of the water, you keep your eyes shut while you run a hand over your face, removing the excess water.
When you open them again, you flinch.
“Do you mind?” You all but shriek at Steve who’s sitting on a large boulder at the lakeside, watching you.
He smirks, “Not at all.”
Glaring at him, you hiss “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
One of these days I’m going to kill him.
Swimming up to the edge of the lake, you keep everything below your neck underwater.
“Well, pass me my towel.” You snap.
Steve raises an eyebrow and it’s only then that you realise he’s not wearing his sunglasses.
Blue.
His eyes are blue.
You’re too far away to see any great detail though.
Steve raises his other eyebrow, bringing you back to reality and making your teeth grind.
“Please.”
Leisurely, Steve reaches for your towel behind him on the boulder and holds it out to you, as far as his arm will extend.
“Are you serious?” You ask, exasperated.
He shrugs, “I’m afraid it’s the best I can do kitten.”
Groaning, you bite out “Fine, close your eyes.”
A moment passes before he eventually does as you demanded, his eyes shutting.
“No peeking.” You enforce, squinting at him.
When you’re certain he can’t see anything, you rise out of the water and quickly approach him.
The second your hand grips the towel Steve tugs on it, sending you toppling onto him.
You fall face first into his solid chest while your hands scramble for purchase to push yourself back.
“What are you -”
The words die in your throat when you feel his warm, rough hands grasp your waist and spin you around, bringing you down to sit on his lap.
“Let me help you.” Steve husks into your ear, his beard pleasantly scratching at your skin.
His right hand presses against your bare stomach, holding you in place while his other hand picks up your towel again, swiping it over your left arm.
You open your mouth to object, but then his right hand is gliding up your wet skin to lightly wrap around your neck, tilting your head backwards so he can move the towel over your chest.
Any fight you might have had leaves your body in a giant whoosh, his touch turning you to jelly.
“There you go,” Steve coo’s. “It’s not healthy to always be so tense kitten.”
Fuck you.
That’s what you want to tell him, but instead you whimper as he suddenly drags the towel down and over your underwear.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Since you pleasured yourself? Yes. Since you had a man touch you? Even more of a yes.
But he hadn’t made you feel anything close to this.
“That’s okay.” Steve whispers, as if you had answered. “I’ll take care of you, it’s what I’m getting paid for.”
Abandoning the towel, his fingers dip behind the band of your underwear and you’re almost panting in excitement.
He’s so… big around you, caging you in and overriding your senses.
“Poor kitten,” Steve teases, dragging two of his fingers along your slick folds. “Just dripping for me, huh?”
You want to punch him so badly you -
“Oh.” You can’t help but moan as his thumb presses on your clit, lightly circling it.
Instinctively, your thighs squeeze together and both of your hands wrap around his wrist to stop the action.
You’re embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
It has been a while.
Steve hushes you, “I know, I know.” Using his left hand to pry your thighs apart, he begins circling your clit again. “Just relax, I got you.”
His words seem to have a pull over you, as your body instantly relaxes in his hold.
With your body pliant, Steve’s fingers dip down further and slowly push into you - first one, then two.
Your hips eagerly lift to meet his hand.
“Good girl, fuck yourself on my fingers.” The vulgar sentence sets your face on fire while also making you clench around his digits with a gasp.
How the hell does he know just what to say?
It’s like he’s read one of your books.
Steve’s fingers start to push into you faster and a bit rougher as his thumb continues circling your clit.
Your stomach tenses, the coil within you already about to snap and god you want it, you want it so bad, so, so bad -
“Please.” You mumble, not recognising your own voice. It’s so airy and desperate. “Please let me come.”
Steve releases a guttural groan beside your ear, the sound rumbling against your back while his arousal pokes at your ass.
His thumb quickens on your clit as his fingers keep pumping into you, nudging just a bit more before -
You moan loudly when he hits the sweet spot inside you.
Steve’s warm breath tickles your cheek. “Come for me baby, make a mess on my fingers.”
Crying out, you whine Steve’s name as your orgasm collides with you.
It’s like the blood in your veins is replaced with fire, your body intoxicatingly hot as you jerk in Steve’s hold, riding out your high on his still moving fingers.
Steve’s murmuring in your ear, but it’s all white noise as you come back to yourself.
“Fuck.” You whisper when you feel a little less lightheaded.
Removing his hand from beneath your underwear, Steve raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. You watch him, mouth slightly ajar.
“How was that kitten? Was it good?” Steve asks once he’s finished, his blue eyes shining down at you.
They’re a light blue - baby blue. At first you think they’re pure blue, but then you see just a flicker of green within them. Somehow it makes them even prettier.
It’s a shame he’s always hiding them away.
“Very.” You breathe out honestly, your mind still muddled.
Steve grins and lowers to brush his mouth over your cheek, the feeling of his beard making you shiver. “The chef appreciates your compliment.” He teases.
Drawing the connection back to that night days before brings you out of your orgasm-induced stupor and kicks your brain into gear.
What the hell did I just do?
Pulling yourself from Steve, you stand - your thighs still shaking a little, and snatch your towel off the ground. Wrapping it around yourself, you collect your clothes from the nearby rocks.
When you turn back you find Steve still sitting in the exact same spot, contently watching you with a lazy smirk, like nothing’s out of the ordinary - like there isn’t a large tent in his pants.
Your core throbs at the sight and you quickly look away.
Marching past him, you don’t respond when Steve calls out “I’ll be up soon kitten, I just gotta wash some of my clothes.”
The smile in his tone is obvious.
Heading for camp, you try to process what just happened.
Did I really just let Steve finger me?
“Oh god, Max.” You groan, dreading his reaction.
Just act natural, he won’t know if -
“Hello there, you took your - wait.” His eyes narrow.
To avoid looking at him you begin drying yourself and re-dressing.
“What?” You ask, trying to sound casual.
Max strides over to you and grabs your chin, forcing you to face him.
“No. Way.”
How the hell -
“Did you fuck Steve?” Max whisper-shouts, his brown eyes wide with excitement.
“No!” You respond in the same tone.
“Then what -”
Gesturing for him to be quiet, you check your surroundings before answering “Look, he just… gave me a helping hand, alright?”
It was less painful to just tell him, otherwise he’d never drop the subject.
“Did he ask for a helping hand back?”
So damn nosy.
“No.” You sigh, exasperated.
Max grins, “I knew he’d be good to you.”
Squinting at him, you retort “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Waving you off, he sits back down by the fire. “Was he good at it?”
Looking over your shoulder again to make sure Steve hadn’t snuck up, you quickly answer “He was great at it, now can we please forget this ever happened?”
Max lets out a chuckle while you finish zipping up your pants. “Good luck with that darling, you can’t exactly avoid him out here.”
Fuck.
What were you thinking?
You were supposed to be searching for lost treasure - the find of the century, not getting some from your guide who you literally cannot escape from until this is all over.
A guide who is going to be unbearable after this, as if he isn’t already.
Dropping your head into your hands, you let out a pained whine.
It’s fine. Everything is going to be just fine.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader smut#steve rogers smut#mercenary!steve rogers#archeologist!reader#scrumptious3k#the expedition
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“Darkness at the Edge of Town (Part Two),” Avengers Unlimited (Vol. 1/2022), Infinity Comic, #34.
Writer: Alex Segura; Artist: Jim Towe; Colorist: Andres Mossa; Letterer: Joe Sabino
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#Avengers Unlimited Infinity Comic#Moon Knight comics#Moon Knight#Marc Spector#Spider-Woman#Jessica Drew#Captain America#Steve Rogers#Mr. Segura I hope you know that I ardently wish to shake your hand for writing Cap and Marc as having a mutually respectful relationship#and for acknowledging Marc’s time as an Avenger#I’m sorry I just don’t think I’ll ever shut up about the potential of Marc and Steve’s dynamic#Anyone remember that moment during Civil War where Peter Parker remarks that Frank Castle is just Steve from a different war???#(or at least I think I’m remembering correctly how that went down)#it’s a little bit of that#I know Frank and Marc’s backstories have been updated but in my mind they’ve always represented the quintessential#Vietnam and Cold War mercenary veterans respectively (or GWOT vet if you want to use the Lemire origin)#which can just make for some really interesting contrasts and comparisons with Steve the quintessential WWII vet you know?#Just based on how those different conflicts were perceived and the drastically different veteran experiences
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Crossover Mercenary AU
Weren't you suppose to kill Steve Rogers for your boss Nemu? What happened? Did he prevent you from doing it? Or was that on you that you couldn't do it?
“He is a rare soul so pure and righteous that I couldn’t bring myself to kill this man.” Nemu replied with awe and respect for the pure-hearted spirit of the golden-haired, blue-eyed warrior.
#bleach#marvel#marvel comics#captain america comics#captain america#steve rogers#nemu kurotsuchi#mercenary au#mercenary au ask#crossover au#crossover au ask
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Aunt Alicia called her family to visit her in the isolated woodland town. For a whole week, they would stay there. Closed all in Amity Park, and a shield around the portal so Ghost can't leave it,... They should have built that first before the portal. But we weren't even sure that Ghost really would come.
As the Fenton were there, he had a boy with her, a child of an old friend of hers. He calls him Respawn; he was a clone. And she needed her family's help with it; she has no idea how to raise a child. And Deathstroke kind of failed most times. And he asked her for it; he will visit once a week.
Respawn has no idea how he was named Steve, after Steve Rogers from the comics. It turns out his new mom and aunt were fans of the comics and thought first that his dad was the Super Soldier of the US. But she learned he was a mercenary, and now Alicia wants to have a little Captain America! For the first time, a family will have a hero! Wait...
Alicia:" Do you even want to be a hero?"
Respawn:" ... sounds like fun?"
Maddie:" Yes! First time, a hero!"
+
Danny wasn't sure what to say.
Danny:" But..."
Jack:" We know that you tried your hardest to play Hero as Phantom Danny. But well, we are proud of the crimes you committed while doing it. But do it outside of Amity Park, please."
Respawn likes his cousins too, Uncle? Jack is pretty funny.
And Danny likes to fight too! And he didn't fight like a hero—too brutal. No wonder the rest thought he was a villain.
And Jazz talks with him to help him with his problems?
+
Ex-Villians Fentons, who all retired.
Fentons knew Danny was Phantom and were sure he was just Meta and not Half Ghost. But we were proud that he started to be a villain, even if he was confused at times.
#danny phantom#Jazz Fenton#danny fenton#Ex-Villians Fentons#dp#Deathstroke#Respawn#dc#dcau#dc comics#dp x dc#dp + dc#dc x dp#batman#Aunt Alicia#Jack Fenton#Maddie Fenton#Alicia x Slade#slade wilson
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Anyone’s little toy - Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader
Warnings: A tiny bit of degradation, nothing too bad, fem!receiving oral. That’s it really (?)
Type: Blurb
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: Billy finds out readers lack of sexual experience.
Notes: This was originally for Jason Todd but maybe it fits Billy more? Idk shut up. Not proofread, I just needed to get this off my mind 😵💫 send ideas, specifically Jason Todd and Steve Roger’s in particular.
You don’t remember how the topic was brought up, all you knew was that you were sitting on Billy’s couch, your back pressed against the cushion as he interrogated you.
There had been an awful amount of sexual tension between you two. Neither of you admitted anything to the other. You were too intimidated to bring anything up to him. You were happy with coming by to hang out with him when he called, talking about his day, your day, ordering food, playing games or watching TV. Sometimes when boredom hit, you even made out, but that was always as far as it went and it wasn’t always.
You couldn’t help but fantasize about it going further, about how he would feel, what he would look like. The closest you got was sitting on his lip with his hands having an ungodly grip on your hips. His kissing always kept you from this world, you forgot everything when Billy Loomis’s spit was in your mouth.
“What is it? Have you ever been touched?” Billy asked in a bitter tone. You were both grown, grown enough to have your own experiences, god knows he had his share. You never confused in him your lack of experience.
“Um” your cheeks flushed red, adamantly avoiding his eyes, they were practically prying into you. The spotlight was on you this whole time, yet it felt like you were on a disgusting display before him.
“Yeah of course I have” you lied. Your eyes still staring at the wall behind him, a frown present on your face in hopes of disguising your truth.
It was nothing to be embarrassed about, but you were ashamed to have a pathetically stupid amount of experience in the sexual aspect of your life.
Billy stared you down like if he was about to devour you, his frown activated across his face, head tilting to the side as he tried to match his eyes with you. “I don’t know, you’re such a sweet baby. I don’t think you’ve ever been anyone’s little toy.. am I right? I could be underestimating you.”
He almost spat out the questions, there was a tinge of jealousy, again, even if you were grown he still had a piece of hope that he could be the only one to see you sprawled out and chanting his name like if he’d show you a small gesture of mercy.
His breath felt hot against your cheek, his tongue peaked out to press against your skin. Your breathing fastened, your legs clenched together in hopes of getting some feeling of relief.
He was eating this up, overly proud of the position he had you in. “Sweet little princess, why aren’t you looking at me? Are you hiding something?” He teased, what an ass. You tucked your bottom lip into your mouth, your eyes refusing to look at his directly as if you could pull one over on him.
Your skirt folded into itself as you kept yourself from getting too close to him, he never went this far and you never went this far, with anyone actually. The embarrassment alone was going to set you off in tears, this was humiliating in the sweetest way.
“N-no im not hiding anything.” You spoke up, barely.
Your squirming was a delicacy to the mercenary. His eyes were prying into your movements, watching you get uneasy. He wanted to tear you apart right then and there. He was only ashamed it took him this long, but there was a long thought process behind his actions.
“I don’t know Y/N. Somethin’s telling me you’re lying to me.” He sung, his head shaking sideways ever so slightly.
It was then his head dipped down to the side of your head, pressing a wet kiss on your cheek, slowly pulling away to watch your reaction. You were as pressed back as you could be in hopes of hiding without actually hiding. You had to check yourself to see if you were still breathing, what the hell was so shameful about this?
“Billy.” You breathed out, his face in front of yours, he slowly knelt down, hands reaching out to your thighs. He would never admit it now, but he could practically smell your arousal. Billy’s hands gripped onto you gently, the outline of his body completely covered you. He was intimidating as much as he was mouth watering.
“Mmm?” He whispered as his hands soothed your thighs gently, his eyes finally dropped down to your figure. Your panties peaked out to him, causing his eyes to focus on your lower part instead. Billy’s thumbs maneuvered to the ends of your skirt, flipping the seam to push back closer to your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He did it so slow, enough to where you could stop him if you needed to, but you didn’t want to.
You were nervous, shy, but you wanted to feel his tough more than anything.
“N-nothing. I just haven’t-“ you frowned again this time dropping your legs onto the couch slowly, sitting up in unison as your eyes finally turned to him. “I’ve never, you know. Really been with anyone. I trust you, I just-“ and there it came, the realization of what you just admitted.
Billy looked up at you, instead of pulling back, his eyes seemed to almost turn a shade darker, turning from your face, back down to your figure. “You’ve never been touched?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response, still unclear with what you were trying to tell him.
“No, I mean I have I just. I’ve never gone all the way, I don’t know what to do.” You admitted without thinking, you absentmindedly pulled away from him and shifted yourself closer to the couch.
“Do you want to do anything with me?” His voice cracked the small silence between you both. You felt the redness approaching your face again, you only answered with a wordless nod. In return, the devious smile made its way back to his drying lips.
“Just tell me if it’s too far” he warned you as his head dipped down again into your thighs, he warmed you back up with wet kisses across your sensitive skin, nipping and sucking at he warm pieces. Your legs responded in shifts, his hands then trailed again to your soft legs, moving them over his shoulder as he pushed his head further up to your core.
There was a change in his ache for you, again, maybe he won’t admit it now but the thought of making you feel good, to be the only one to taste you and leave you scratching at his back when you can’t take it anymore, all the sinful ideas plagued his mind. The fantasy of it all awoke something primal in him, the more the idea saturated his mind, the more desperate he got.
His hands ran up to your hips, pulling you as close as he could to his face, his arms hooked around the bottom for your thighs to hold you in place, his fingers pushed your underwear aside, enough to give him some space to work, he flattened his tongue against your slick folds, causing your head to fall back at the intrusion.
You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. Billy restricted your legs as his mouth opened and sucked into your clit. A gasp escaped your lips at the obscenity of his movements, you never felt anything like it, your legs rubbed against the sides of his head as his mouth moved more desperately by the second.
“Billy-” you whimpered out as his tongue swirled around your opening, your pink cotton panties were in the way of the whole experience but he was too mesmerized by your taste to get away from your pussy for even a second. Your thighs clenched every time he hit a sweet spot, he was careful not to overstimulate you too fast, he was going to try to get you as wet as possible before he fucked you.
His tongue flattened then pierced your hole, feeling the tip of his tongue pushed out by your body, taking turns exploring your folds.
Your head fell back again, feeling nothing but the warm wet spit invade your sensitive slick. Between laps along your cunt he’d pull back to mumble sweet obscenities, the hoods of his eyes dripping down in sweet bliss as he tasted your juices. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.” He praised as he felt your legs squeeze his head again when the pressure was too strong.
You didn’t know what feeling you were chasing, all you knew was that it felt like you could stay here all day, little parts his tongue would swipe made you jolt, you could almost fall asleep in ecstasy.
It wasn’t long until Billy noticed your comfortability, causing him to start lapping at your clit, his left hand pulled apart your folds while the other pulled your underwear aside. Your body sure felt the pressure now, you twisted your lower half without thinking to get away from his tongue.
Billy’s fingers let go of your panties and his index finger made circles against your clit, causing your body to flinch and little moans to escape your salivating mouth. His finger then prodded into you slowly before then just shoving itself as far as he could. His eyes wouldn’t let you go as you squirmed and mumbled out incoherent moans.
“You look so cute when you have something in you.” He muttered, watching you flinch and curl your body forward as he added another finger. You whimpered as he kept the pace, his eyes half closed with lust as you panted at his impatience to use you up.
His fingers moved in a scissoring motion, causing you to squirm again, this time moaning a little louder. “Maybe I do believe you haven’t been played with. I haven’t even started and I know you’re going to cream all over my fingers soon” he hissed.
You pouted, your lustful eyes gleaming down to him, you would have something smart to say if Billy wasn’t rubbing his hands all over your cunt, talking to you like you were a stupid girl chasing a high. His fingers rammed in and out of you in a steady pace, his palm ever so slightly pushing against your clit with every thrusting motion. You felt your body involuntarily clench.
Billy slowly stood to his feet, his hands never stopping or halting in the process. He needed to see you cum more than anything right now, more than you needed to feel it.
“God if you could see yourself right now. You look so pretty.” He whined out as he looked down to you, you looked back at him, with a more prominent frown and an ache in your core. Your hips began to shift as he kept his pace, his left hand made its way up to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip.
“So fucking pretty. Maybe next time I’ll bust a load on your face play with your pretty little cunt and get a picture. What do you say?”
You were wordless, before you could even get the chance to answer he curled his fingers, finding your gspot took him a little longer but when he felt your pussy clench around him he kept prying. You closed your eyes in despair to keep your climax going, bucking your hips as he kept fucking you with his fingers. “Good fucking princess. You look so fucking pretty, fuck.” He moaned, desperate to toss you around, fill you to the brim, he knew better than to go crazy with you so fast, but it wasn’t like he had enough self control to take it slow.
Your body jolted involuntarily, your eyes squeezed shut as you cried out in pleasure. All those sweet noises for him to hear alone were enough to send him over the edge. This was going to be a long night.
#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis blurb#billy loomis one shot#billy loomis smut#billy loomis imagine#billy loomis#ghostface x reader#ghostface imagine#ghostface one shot#ghostface smut
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What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀
Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵
I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.
that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers
An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.
He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.
You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.
It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.
Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.
"Sure thing, cherry."
His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).
Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.
You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.
You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.
Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.
You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.
If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...
You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.
"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.
"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.
"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.
His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.
Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.
"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."
You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.
You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.
But it's something you would find out much later.
Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.
If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.
You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.
If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.
Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.
You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.
But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#soft!dark steve rogers#soft!dark steve rogers x reader#enforcer!steve rogers#it maaay turn into actual series sometime in the futur#*future#idk i make no promises yet but it's tempting#for now I'm titling it - Cherry#steve fic: cherry
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Steve Rogers, PA | @sparkagrace
steve x bucky | teen | wip
tags: winter soldier Bucky Barnes, personal assistant Steve Rogers, beefy Steve, hunkyclinks, canon div, fluff, crack taken seriously
Steve Rogers didn't intend to work for an assassin, uh, mercenary, but it turns out he's a pretty good personal assistant. The hours are pretty good, he gets to work on his thesis… and his boss - the Winter Soldier - isn't too bad to look at either.
But Steve might find that this job is more than he bargained for.
A fic series created for @buckybarnesevents' Build a Bucky Bingo with some prompts from @stuckybingo.
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The prince's bride
As SHIELD and Hydra teeter on the edge of a faction war, a brainwashed Soldier, the Winter Prince is an unwitting pawn in a larger game and is forced into a betrothal to one Alexander Pierce. Kidnapped by mercenaries, then rescued by a pirate who is extremely familiar, the Winter Prince starts to regain his memories.
In the course of his adventure’s, he’ll meet Brock - a master tactician who will do anything to get ahead in life; Hulk - a gentle giant; Natasha - the Russian who thirsts for revenge; and Gravik - the skrull mastermind behind it all. Foiling all their plans and jumping into their stories is Steve Rogers, the Soldier's one true love and a very good friend of a very dangerous pirate.
Or the Princess Bride AU that literally no one wanted except me… (and maybe one other person…)
~*~*~
Soooo... I'm back with another adventure - and why the hell not, let's try a princess bride AU. Am I crazy? Probably. Will this work? Who knows. Have I had fun twisting this fic together? Absofuckinglutely.
This is my ultimate love letter to one of my favourite childhood (who am I kidding) adulthood movies - and if it sounds like your kind of adventure... click on in and enjoy a swashbucklingish story full of familiar quotes and two idiots finding their true love.
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Part one - click here
#stucky#Steve x Bucky#princess bride AU#Pirates#action adventure#retelling of a classic#kind of#is this self indulgent?#yes. but do i care? no#my writing#kalees AU extravaganza
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Heart Of Stone; Winter’s Embrace
Summary: Wanda finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the important meeting when she can see you through the window as clear as day.
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: pure fluff
Words: 5,905
✎ | დ
you do not have permission to repost/translate my work or claim them as your own.
⚠️⚠️ As I am actually currently working very hard on an epilogue for this series, have a cute little moment I imagined in the Heart Of Stone universe set at some point between the first chapter and the second. Enjoy. ⚠️⚠️
The First Day Of Winter, 2013
With your focus wholly absorbed in the book before you, your pencil moving across the page with fluid and deliberate strokes, you were unaware of Wanda’s swift and decisive action to claim the empty seat next to you. As she settled into the chair, she couldn’t help but nibble on her inner lip, her gaze lingering on the side of your face as you continued to draw. Despite her desire to clear her throat or speak your name, to do anything to capture your attention and lose herself in your gaze, she remained silent, choosing instead to revel in the simple pleasure of your peaceful presence.
Her gaze reluctantly left you and shifted to your hand, which moved with the familiarity and grace that hinted at years of honing your craft. Wanda felt a strong pull towards you, captivated by the sight of you being entirely absorbed in your art as if nothing else existed.
She shifted slightly in her seat, craning her neck in an attempt to get a peek at your sketch over your hands, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught a glimpse. It was beautiful, the intricate lines and shading giving Steve Rogers a lifelike quality on the page. Wanda was in awe, her eyes tracing the details of the drawing, from the small creases around the patriot’s eyes to the precise angles of his jawline. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the subject of one of your sketches, to have your keen eyes capture her essence on paper.
Wanda noticed a fleeting moment of tension in your muscles, causing your movements to freeze, but it quickly dissipated. Her peripheral vision caught the movement of Vision entering the room mere seconds later, and she briefly glanced away from you to watch him take a seat on the other side of her. It was only then that Steve cleared his throat, capturing the attention of almost everyone in the room… Almost.
The patriot briefly observed you, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips, but he didn’t comment on your lack of focus as you continued to draw him. He was appreciative you made an appearance at one of these meetings, despite showing zero interest in joining them on their heroic adventures.
However, Wanda made an effort to stay focused, pivoting her body to face Steve on the other side of the table. Natasha sat beside him, observing you with a watchful eye, much like a mother watching over her child. It was evident to Wanda that the redhead, like herself, understood that your presence in the meeting was likely to be brief.
“There’s a new crisis that needs our attention,” Steve began. “A group of mercenaries…” but whatever the super soldier had to say seemed to fade into the background as she turned her head towards you in time to see you finally pick your chin up.
At first, Wanda presumed that your gaze was fixed on Natasha - a behavior she had noticed in you before, where you would seek the redhead to reassure yourself of her presence, as if it gave you a sense of comfort Wanda couldn’t help but feel envious of. However, she soon realized that your focus lay beyond the Russian, on the absurdly large window behind her. Wanda immediately noticed your shoulders droop as you discovered the curtains were drawn shut, concealing the outside world from your curious eyes. The witch watched your reaction as she twisted her wrist, moving the barrier aside to reveal the vast expanse of snow that had been accumulating since the afternoon; the way your eyes widened at the white, fluffy ground beyond the glass was nearly childlike.
A spark of excitement ignited in her gut when you turned your head to look at her, granting her the view of your enthusiasm, and she couldn’t help but smile in response, a soft chuckle slipping through her nose. She was delighted to see you light up at the sight of the snowy landscape outside, but that only lasted so long before you were out of your seat, making your way out of the room so hastily, you had left your sketchbook behind.
Steve continued his mission talk without any pause or concern, while Natasha simply shook her head and smirked at your sudden departure. Although Wanda felt a fleeting urge to follow you, the fire in her stomach quickly dissipated as she watched you leave. With a heavy sigh, she redirected her attention back to Steve, her mind refocusing on the task at hand.
“...don’t know much about them yet,” the patriot’s words reached her ears once more as she rejoined the meeting, resting her elbow on the table and letting her chin fall onto her palm, “but, from what we’ve gathered…”
Once again, Steve’s voice faded into the background like white noise for Wanda. She couldn’t help it. While she understood that the Avengers had a responsibility to protect innocent lives from any danger, no matter how small, her persistent desire to follow you consumed her thoughts. The nagging feeling to chase after you was overwhelming.
But she soon found herself falling into confusion as she watched you appear in the window behind Steve and Natasha. Your figure trudged through the snow, wearing nothing but the outfit you had been seen in earlier. Despite the freezing temperatures, you appeared to be thoroughly enjoying yourself, and Wanda couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth spread through her chest at the sight of your wide, toothy grin. She straightened her posture, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to form on her face, as you picked your chin up to let the falling snowflakes land delicately on your face.
She couldn’t help but admire your childish joy.
Your head lowered as you held out a hand, attempting to catch a snowflake, but your eyebrows pinched in confusion when they only ended up evaporating the moment they landed on your skin. Instead, you bent down to cup a handful of white powder in your palms to get a better look at what was falling from the sky. She could only imagine the sound of your laughter as you stood up, bringing the small pile of flakes closer to your face.
It felt like someone had pressed the fast-forward button for the next few seconds as a cloud of snow exploded against the side of your head, your body vanishing into the deep snowdrift at the impact. Wanda had to quickly cover her mouth with her hand to prevent a laugh from escaping and disrupting the seriousness of the meeting she was supposed to be paying attention to, but would much rather watch you experience the first day of winter through the window.
Your upper body popped up from the snow, covered in a layer of white powder, looking dazed and confused as you blinked slowly, and she bit her cheek so hard, she could swear she could taste blood. Your head turned towards the source of the snowball, and a smile crossed your features as you climbed to your feet.
Tony stepped into view, shaking with laughter as he held out additional layers of warmth for you. You looked at the offering with confusion coloring your features, but when you suddenly shivered, you immediately accepted the thick clothing and shrugged it on.
Wanda shook her head, as if snapping out of a trance, and refocused her attention. It was Natasha who was speaking, her voice cutting through the witch’s momentary distraction. “...heavily armed and have been moving a lot. It’s possible that they’re planning something much bigger.”
“We need to stop them before they take more lives,” Steve claimed. “We managed to track them down to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city a couple of weeks ago, but…” Wanda’s eyes drifted back to the window, but her eyebrows pinched in confusion when she no longer saw any sign of you or Tony. She was ultimately forced to return to the meeting.
“They’re fast,” Natasha added, “so we need to move faster if we want to prevent whatever they’re planning.” If everybody in the room was aware of Wanda’s struggle to pay attention, nobody showed it. Though she was sure she could see Vision giving her subtle side glances every now and again next to her. “We’re running out of time.”
“Do we know their new location?” Vision questioned.
“Not yet,” Steve answered, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest, “but we’re working on it. We have a few leads, just nothing concrete.”
As Wanda’s eyes quickly shifted towards the window, she couldn’t help but feel relieved when she saw you and Tony reappear. However, her excitement waned when she noticed your back was turned towards her. She bit her lip, trying to hide the disappointment that threatened to surface. She longed for your smile, the one that could light up the darkest of rooms, the one that made the sun envious of its shine, but it seemed that her wants went unheard as you remained oblivious to her silent pleas.
Despite Wanda’s continuous distractions, the meeting continued.
Vision leaned forward, and the movement caused him to graze shoulders with Wanda. She shifted slightly, feeling the contact with him but not registering the meaning behind it. Her mind was still preoccupied with the thought of you and Tony outside, wondering what you were up to, and wishing you’d turn around just so she could see you. “We need to be proactive in finding them,” he suggested. “Perhaps we should expand our search. If they are planning something big, they might have moved their operations to a different city.” She was oblivious to the longing look the android sent her.
Steve nodded, pursing his lips together for a brief moment before saying, “We’re already coordinating with local law enforcement. We’re getting more resources in the search.”
“We should also consider increasing our surveillance in areas where they have been known to operate.” Wanda’s eyes flashed to Natasha, meeting eye contact with the former assassin as she continued, “It’s possible they will make a mistake or slip up, and we need to be ready to capitalize on any opportunity to apprehend them.”
“We should also prepare for the possibility that they might have allies at their disposal as well,” Vision pointed out, turning toward Steve. “We need to be cautious and anticipate any potential obstacles.”
Movement in the window behind the blonde and redhead caught her attention, and she watched as Tony stepped to the side to reveal a pristine snowman; the balls of snow formed perfect spheres, topped with a jaunty hat and carrot nose. Buttons pressed into its torso firmly, a dark red scarf wrapped comfortably around its neck, and sticks stabbed into the sides to form arms. A small smirk lifted the corner of her mouth at the sight of the sculpture, but when you stepped to the side to reveal your own snowman, her lips curled to form a bigger, brighter smile.
While Tony’s creation was the epitome of picture-perfect - the type of snowmen you’d see on postcards and in movies - yours sat lopsided, with an oversized head and arms that looked like they could fall off at any moment. Your hat was a mere strainer you must’ve grabbed from the kitchen during your disappearance, and the nose was a carrot that had seen better days, with a slight bend in the middle that had been hastily jabbed into the snowman’s face. The eyes, unlike Tony’s, were not perfectly round nor matched in size. One was slightly larger than the other, giving the snowman a slightly cross-eyed look. Despite its imperfections, the snowman had a certain charm to it, as if it had been made with a sense of innocent wonder and silly enthusiasm. The crooked grin on its face - formed by pebbles you must’ve gathered from the decorations in the lobby - seemed to convey a mischievous personality, inviting anyone who passed by to come closer and take a picture with it. It was a snowman that embodied not only the joy and spirit of winter but the childlike imagination and creativity that often get lost in adulthood.
Wanda watched as Tony moved to stand next to you while Happy walked into the window’s view, shoving his hands into his pockets as he breathed out a heavy breath that released a thick cloud of smoke in the cold air. It was clearly obvious how much the head of security didn’t want to be outside in the middle of a freezing, winter night, but that his boss gave him no choice in the matter.
The two men conversed, your eyes glued intently onto Happy’s face as he threw a sloppy index finger up in the direction of your snowman, and the witch, once again, had to cover her mouth when your arms shot up in victory. Tony didn’t seem pleased, gesturing toward his perfectly built statue, and then your mediocre one. She could only assume that they dragged the man outside to choose a winner of a contest, and you seemed to have lost interest in the mild argument as you stepped behind the snowmen and scooped up a handful of snow.
The ball sailed through the air, small flakes trailing after it as it wasn’t the most perfect snowball with some clumps of snow sticking out awkwardly, but it did its job well when it hit its mark: Happy’s head. Whatever Tony was saying was immediately halted as his body shook once more with laughter, watching his friend’s reaction. You shot an innocent smile when Happy looked toward you, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony, and Wanda felt her body tense. Was she going to have to go outside and save you from one of his tantrums? Your fragile state of mind left you in a sensitive and vulnerable state, and any form of negativity directed toward you would deeply affect you. Wanda quite often found herself attempting to protect you from such things just as much as Natasha does.
As much as a harmless act it was, Happy wasn’t - despite his name - a very happy man.
But, to her surprise, the man was quick to bend down, scooping some snow into his own hands to form a ball. Your eyes widened, and Wanda felt her muscles relax as the three of you fell into a snowball fight. She wished she could hear your laughter, your squeals, as you enjoyed a small game amongst the people you are slowly getting close to.
Though the game didn’t last long, as Happy waved the white flag of defeat and immediately disappeared from the window. Tony said something to you that made that wide smile on your face grow even wider before walking off. And, once again, you were left alone as you looked around.
Wanda leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as you turned your head toward the night sky once more. She could feel her entire body melt in peace as you stared at the stars through the falling snow, a look of admiration hidden beneath the smile lingering on your face. The snowflakes caught in your hair and eyelashes made you seem almost mystical, like a creature of the night sky yourself. It made her give in to her desires, gripping the edges of the table and pushing herself away from it. However, the rest of her movements froze when Clint appeared in the window frame, causing her to use her grip on the table to reel herself in, resigning herself to watch you look away from the stars to see who had joined you.
She observed the way you smiled widely at whatever the archer had said, the way he reached out to pat you on the shoulder for a brief moment before he thought better of it and brought his arm back to his side. Instead, he followed you to a space away from the snowmen before falling to your knees in the snow. You watched him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what the seasoned agent could possibly be doing as he started patting the snow into a thick, small wall. But the more his mouth continued moving, noiseless words coming from his lips, the less confused you appeared to be. You mirrored his movements, like a child learning from their teacher.
You were fully engrossed in your new project, your attention unwavering even when Steve came to join in. Wanda couldn’t help but notice his arrival, but she merely spared him a quick glance before returning her gaze to you. Steve knelt down beside Clint, and together they worked to connect your wall to the archer’s, creating a smooth curve.
As the night sky grew darker, none of you seemed to slow down, and Wanda continued to watch. Occasionally, Steve would pause to explain something to you, to which you would nod your head in understanding, but Wanda was almost certain the patriot’s words would go pass through one ear and out the other as you continued working. And she’d find herself chuckling softly whenever Clint playfully tossed some loose snow your way, eliciting an even wider grin from you. Or when he would seemingly break out into song - a tune that Wanda was glad she couldn’t hear from her vantage point, but that prevented her from hearing your infectious laughter.
The realization that you were building an igloo only dawned on Wanda as the circular wall the three of you had formed grew higher and higher. She had never seen anything like it before, and yet the way you all were working on it made it seem like the most natural thing in the world. Wanda couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She wanted to be a part of this, to work alongside you, to build something together, but she knew she was stuck in this meeting until she was dismissed. So, she resigned herself to watching from the sidelines.
The night wore on, and the snow continued to fall. Yet still, you, Clint, and Steve worked on, determined to finish your creation. Time meant nothing to Wanda, watching the expressions your face would make, from the way your brows furrowed in concentration to the way your eyes would light up in excitement as the igloo continued to grow. She could see the steam of your breath as you laughed at whatever asinine conversation the two men were having.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the three of you stepped back to admire your work, and she forced herself to look away from your happy, smiling face to catch the final product, amazed at the beauty and detail of the structure. It was a work of art, with curved walls and intricate patterns etched into the snow that clearly had to be your doing.
Wanda watched with amusement as Steve gestured for you to enter the frozen structure, and your face lit up with excitement as you eagerly raced around to the entrance, crawling through it like a child entering a secret hideout. Steve and Clint peered over the top of the walls, laughing heartily, and she wondered what it must have been like to be surrounded by walls made of snow, and to feel the warmth of your body next to her, protected from the elements outside. The thought of being able to share that moment with you made her heart ache, wishing she could be out there, reveling in your joy. But as she continued to watch from the window, she knew that for now, that dream would have to remain just that - a dream.
From where she sat, Wanda could see the tips of your shoes sticking out of the igloo’s entrance, motionless as Steve and Clint headed inside for the night. However, your solitude was shot-lived as Natasha - red hair conceal under a cozy hat - made her way over to your makeshift abode. Wanda couldn’t help but grin at the way Natasha knelt down at the mouth of the igloo, tapping her knuckles lightly against the sturdy wall as if she were knocking on a door. It wasn’t long until your shoes were replaced by your head, emerging from the frozen structure. Whatever Natasha said to you - Wanda didn’t need to hear it to know that the redhead was using her softest tone, a tone that was reserved only for you - was enough to make you crawl out of the shelter.
You looked perplexed when the Russian lay down in the snow a few feet away from your snowmen and igloo, gesturing for you to join her on the frigid ground. Your face scrunched with confusion, and you paused for a moment, staring at her, before your mouth moved, verbally expressing your thoughts this time. Natasha responded playfully with a roll of her eyes and, after another hesitated moment, you decided to lay down beside her.
Without a wasted minute, Natasha started moving her legs and arms up and down, causing Wanda to chuckle softly at the bewildered expression that landed on your features. The redhead looked over at you, and as you slowly moved to mimic her movements, trying to keep up with her pace, the witch wasn’t oblivious to the way your face changed from confusion to joy within seconds. Wanda felt a tug against her heart, feeling envious at the way your chest heaved with a burst of laughter.
Natasha continued with playful abandon, and you followed her lead, your movements becoming more confident and fluid as you went along. Wanda was glad that you were able to find joy in something as simple as creating a snow angel, her gaze lingering on the way you brushed the snow off your clothes after you stood up. And she wondered if Natasha had placed it in a way so she had a full view of your reaction when you saw the final result, a perfect, sparkling angel etched into the snow. But Wanda wasn’t too focused on the snow, but the way your face lit up as you looked, her stomach flipping as the way your eyes widened with wonder and amazement. It was a beautiful sight, and Wanda felt her heart swell with affection. She found herself admiring the way your hair was dusted with snowflakes and the way your cheeks were rosy from the cold.
Whenever someone made any movement to touch you, Wanda always caught herself holding her breath. Natasha was no exception. So, when the redhead’s hands moved towards you, the witch’s breath hitched in her throat as they came to a rest on your shoulders. You were nodding in agreement to whatever was being said, and the Russian rolled her eyes with a smirk before guiding you back to your igloo before she, too, called it a night. Wanda watched as you disappeared into your little habitat, a smile tugging at her lips. She felt a sense of warmth in her chest at the sight of your shoes peeking out of the entrance, and she found herself grateful that it was Natasha that had taken you under her wing through all of this.
“Hey.” Wanda was startled by the sudden sound of Natasha’s voice, quickly turning in her chair to face the redhead, who was still dressed in her winter outfit from outside as she casually leaned against the doorway. “The meeting ended a while ago… You know that right?” she teased, her lips curving up in a playful smirk. Wanda blushed and glanced around the empty conference room.
“I was… distracted.” She bit the side of her tongue to smother the sheepish grin that was threatening to add to the embarrassment she was already feeling.
The Russian chuckled and pushed herself away from the doorframe, stepping further into the room. “We noticed,” she replied, her voice still holding that teasing tone. Wanda couldn’t do anything to stop the heat in her cheeks from growing hotter. “Y/N’s experiencing snow for the first time today. It’d be a shame if you weren’t a part of that.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do,” Wanda confessed, tugging the sleeves of her shirt past her palms. “It seemed like everybody else had already done everything you could possibly do in the snow.”
Natasha shrugged loosely, pursing her lips together briefly before ominously saying, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Wanda didn’t get much time to ask her anything else before she walked away, leaving her chewing on the inside of her cheek as she wracked her brain.
The igloo was even more magnificent when viewed up close, its snow walls shimmering under the moonlight. The only sounds were the soft crunch of snow under her boots, carefully balancing two steaming mugs in her hands as she kneeled at the entrance of the frozen building. She cleared her throat, but before she could pretend to knock, she was looking at your beaming face. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed into your sparkling eyes, despite the structure obscuring your face from the only source of light out here.
“Hi.” You raised a brow as you looked at the cups in her hands, and her tongue flicked out to lick her lips before she added, “I figured you could use a warm drink.”
“Wha… What is it?” you questioned, and she had stopped trying to fight that feeling she gets whenever she hears your voice.
“Hot chocolate,” she answered, smiling softly, “with whipped cream and marshmallows.”
Your head tilted to the side, eyebrows knitting together with confusion. “Marshmallows?”
She nodded, chuckling at your expression. “Yeah, it’s a thing. Trust me, it’s delicious.” You beamed in response before taking one of the mugs from her, cradling it in your hands as you disappeared into your icy hut. She felt the smile fade away from her face, looking down at the ground as her stomach twisted uncomfortably. But, before she could move to leave, your voice calling her name from within the walls of the igloo made her pause.
“Are… Are you… coming in?”
Her gut twisted with joy as she lowered her head to enter the small entrance, her heart racing as she pushed through the narrow opening. Inside, the space was surprisingly cozy, yet lift little to no room to maneuver without touching you. You watched her with a smile, sitting across from you and feeling the warmth of your touch melt through her thick clothes and into her skin.
“I-It’s not very… big.” You looked around the enclosed walls, your heart beating rapidly against your chest, but with Wanda’s legs pressed against yours, the panic that had raised in your throat was suffocated. “Maybe we… We can make it bigger?” Your eyes were sparkling once more when you met her gaze, and her soft smile allowed you to relax even further.
“I think it’s perfect,” she assured, her voice soft and soothing. She felt a warmth in her chest at the sight of your sparkling eyes, as if you had found a way to put glitter in them. When you brought the smoking mug up, she was quick to put her hand in the small distance between your mouth and the drink, her knuckles brushing across your lips very lightly, yet it was enough to make that warmth in her chest spread to her gut. “You should wait until it’s a bit colder.” You met her gaze, the way your face softened as your rose-colored cheeks became more prominent made her heart skip a beat. She had a fleeting thought to delve into your mind, to know what you were thinking at this moment, but she was getting better.
“It… It smells good,” you said quietly, the movement of your jaw only causing your lips to get closer to her hand.
She couldn’t seem to get her voice above a whisper, “I don’t want you burning your tongue.” It took you a moment, but you finally pulled the mug away from your face, and she brought her arm back to herself. “Did you have fun tonight?”
She wasn’t sure it was possible, but your face grew brighter at her question, and you seemed to have forgotten about what just happened. “I did,” you eagerly expressed. “Mr. Stark… He hit me with a… a ball of snow! And-And then we built the snow people. Did you… You saw them?”
“I did,” she confirmed with a nod.
“Mr. Happy said mine was… better!” Your gentle laughter made her stomach warm, a much more pleasing feeling than the hot chocolate ever could bring.
“Well, Mr. Happy has good taste.”
“I… I’m not going to tell you who’s is whose, but wh-which one is better?”
“I’m going to have to say the one with the strainer for a hat,” she answered and was immediately rewarded by the way your face lit up at her answer. “Did you make that one?”
“Yes!” You leaned forward slightly, yet due to the small confines of the igloo, your face was a lot closer to hers now. Her breath hitched in her throat, her eyes averting down to your lips slowly, though you showed no signs of noticing the drawn-out gaze. And your breath fanning over her face caused her chest to tighten as you whispered, “I won’t tell Mr… Stark.”
The excitement you were feeling made it impossible for you to conceal your thoughts, and she was ecstatic to hear your voice. You had said more words to her just now than she has ever heard you say since meeting you, and she only wanted to hear it more. “What else happened?” She brought her drink up to her lips, blowing across the top of the liquid, and she noticed the way you paused for a moment, straightening your posture as you leaned back.
“I-I threw a ball of snow at Mr. Happy.” She chuckled at the memory. “And then… we all threw them at each other. Clint taught me how… how to make this…” You trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked around. “He called it an… an igloo.” You smirked, and Wanda forced herself to take a sip of the semi-scalding liquid to hide the flush in her cheeks at the sigh of it. “Captain… He helped us. They even made it so I can- We can look at the stars.” Your head tilted up, and she followed your gaze to see the vast night sky above her. “And then Nat came. She… She showed me how to… make an angel. And now… you. An-An… actual…” You breathed out, averting your gaze to look at the fluffy marshmallows melting in the hot chocolate after Wanda brought her chin down to see that you were looking at her.
She smiled softly, noticing the way your cheeks were a lot more rosy now than they were five seconds ago. “Try it.”
“W- It’s chocolate?”
Wanda’s soft laugh made you pick your head up to look at her, eyebrows pinched with mild confusion, but a smile tugging the corners of your lips. “Yes,” she exclaimed, nodding. “Hot chocolate. It’s made with chocolate and milk.”
You nodded slowly, still a bit uncertain but intrigued enough to bring the mug to your lips to take a tentative sip. The warmth spread through your body, settling at the bottom of your stomach, and you couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. “Wow.” She smiled as you took another drink, this one more confident than the last. “What’s the… the chewy stuff?”
“Marshmallows.”
“Marshmallows.” You mirrored her smile, your eyes flickering up to meet hers, and she felt a flutter in her chest at the sight of your grin. “It’s… I like it.” You took another sip, tilting the cup higher and, when you pulled it away from you, she couldn’t help but laugh softly at the whipped cream that now adorned your nose.
“You’ve got a little…” She trailed off, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth before biting the bullet and reaching forward herself. You seemed to lean into the touch when she wiped her sleeve against your nose in a gentle swipe. “I got it.”
“Thank you.” You cleared your throat, bringing the mug back up to your face to hide the burn in your cheeks that ignited at her touch, taking another yet careful sip of the hot chocolate, savoring the sweetness and warmth it provided. “Did you… make this?”
“I did,” she answered proudly. “The secret is to use real chocolate instead of cocoa powder. It gives it a richer flavor and creamier texture.”
“I… like it,” you repeated, finishing it off.
“I make it all the time,” she stated, though she doesn’t remember the last time she made it if she was being honest. Yet, the look on your face every time you took a sip - like a child who just discovered something magical - made her want to make it more often. “Hot chocolate is the kind of drink that’s perfect on a night like this.”
You gently placed the mug off to the side before letting your hands fall into your lap, and she watched as you dug your thumb into the scar on your palm. Something she would find you doing whenever your anxiety built up. She wished she had the courage to stop the motion, to reach over to you, to place her hands gently over yours, but she remained to herself. Instead, she took a deep breath and decided to break the silence that wrapped around the two of you like a silk scarf.
“Do you want to look at the stars?” Your eyes snapped onto hers, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the quick nod you sent her.
After placing her mug next to yours, the two of you lay down in the small igloo. Although she forced herself to maintain some distance, she couldn’t prevent your legs from resting on top of hers at the entrance of the frozen abode. And she wasn’t complaining. The feeling of your weight on top of her - even if it was just the lower, lower half - caused a warmth to spread throughout her body. She wondered if you could hear her heartbeat quicken under her thick layers of clothing because she sure could.
The stars above seemed to twinkle with a brighter light as you gazed up at them, lost in your own thoughts. Wanda couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder and admiration for you. She often found herself wondering what went on in your mind, what secrets and dreams were hidden behind your eyes. There was a wisdom about you that surpassed anyone else that she had ever met, and everything you had been through only seemed to add to that depth. As she watched you, a feeling of calm washed over her, allowing her entire body to relax in peace.
She always felt overwhelmed with comfort in your presence, but your touch filled her with an unexplainable warmth that made her heart beat a little faster and her thoughts linger on you longer than they should. Because while you were falling in love with winter’s embrace, she was falling in love with you.
#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#maximoff x reader#scarlet witch x reader#black widow#natasha romanoff#steve rogers#captain america#iron man#tony stark#vision#reader insert#heart of stone#hos
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Peters dumbass team (red)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55231981
by Imohsoterrified
The Avengers were called to a meeting to discuss a new vigilante team that had recently appeared on their radar. “Team red”. And one of the members of this mysterious team just happens to be Peter Parker, a kid who just happens to be an Avenger.
And there is no way that peter is telling tony and the rest of the team that he hangs out with a mercenary and a guy that likes to turn people into vegetables.
Words: 1330, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker & Everyone
Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Blind Matt Murdock, Protective Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson is a Little Shit, No Spideypool, I REPEAT THERE IS NO SPIDEYPOOL THE TOM HOLLAND SPIDER-MAN IS A CHILD, No Romance, Matt Murdock Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Not Canon Compliant, i don't even know were this sits in the timeline tbh, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Avengers, no bata we die like peters sanity during this fic
read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55231981
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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 23
Part 23: Who Do You Trust?
Series Masterlist
Words: 4.6k
Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader
Warnings: References to mob crime families, activities, domestic violence, miscarriage, and infidelity. References to kidnapping, non-con, imprisonment, and threats. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.
Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.
Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can’t sleep?”
Steve looked up to see Dyson in his doorway. A quick glance at his watch revealed it to be just after 3 AM. Raking a hand through his hair, Steve shook his head.
What happened just a few hours ago had him shaken. Hansen brought a group of mercenaries to his home while he was gone, while the heads of the five families were meeting over the discord in the ranks that he called. And he didn’t even make it to the meeting.
What was this? The fucking Godfather? The bastard worked for Barnes. And Barnes wasn’t even trying to hide his contempt for Steve’s leadership. It was a direct challenge, and it required a swift and harsh retaliation.
His wife was sleeping in his bed upstairs. Since he’d announced his intention to marry her, to claim leadership of the families, Clint had been shot. A shop on his turf had been hit hard. And now this.
“Hansen was here for her.” Steve was direct. “He came so close.”
The concern on his man’s face mirrored what Steve felt in his chest. The side of Dyson’s face was bruised, his arm in a sling from the attack earlier.
Motioning to the chair on the other side of his desk, Steve said, “Please, have a seat. You should be resting.”
Dyson waved him off. “I’ll be fine, boss.” Still, he slowly made his way to that chair and took a seat.
“I’m thinking we have rat in our ranks,” Steve said finally.
Dyson’s expression was grim. He nodded.
“Someone knew where to find Clint that night,” Steve pointed out.
“Yeah, but Clint wasn’t where he was supposed to be.” Dyson blew out an exhale. “And then this horrible fight your sister got into with her husband.”
Fight, by all accounts, was putting it mildly. Since Clint had been shot, Steve had kept him away from Nat. To protect them both. Maybe Nat was unhappy about that and picked a fight with Bruce. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe…
“You heard anything about that fight?” Steve asked. “Since I didn’t make it over there. Or to the meeting of for that matter.”
“You not making the meeting was Barnes’ intention,” Dyson said angrily. “But Barnes was there, and fuck knows what he said to the others.”
Barnes likely tried. Tony wouldn’t just buy it. Neither would Sam. Thor? He could honestly go either way.
When Steve didn’t have anything to add to that, Dyson shook his head. “I put Scott on it, but he didn’t hear much. Thing I don’t like? No one has really seen Nat since that fight.”
Steve considered that. “What do you mean? I’ve talked to her.”
“Unless it was by video chat, you haven’t seen her.”
“What are you saying?” Steve knew what the older man was insinuating. “Yeah, Bruce has a temper on him. But…”
“They haven’t fought like this since she fell that time,” Dyson threw out there.
Steve blew out his frustration. “We’ve talked about this,” Steve told him. “She was too close to the stairs, and she fell.”
Dyson eyed him skeptically. “You really believe that? She broke and arm, a leg. Lucky she didn’t break her neck. And the baby…”
Steve stopped him there. “Yes, it was awful and I all but threatened Bruce to tell me the truth about that. You know I did.”
Dyson nodded at that.
“And what if that baby wasn’t Bruce’s, huh?” Steve pointed out. “You ever thought about that?”
“Sure, I have,” Dyson told him. “Bruce knew about the pregnancy. If he really thought it was his, why would he have gotten in a fight like that with her? Why take the risk?”
It was plausible that Bruce might have thought that. But for him to go after Nat like that? He still struggled to believe that. Surely to God Bruce would know better than to lay hands on his sister.
Nat was headstrong and irrational when she was upset. She’d been dramatic since she was born.
Still, something felt off.
“I’ll go check on her today,” Steve finally said. “I’d very much appreciate it if you kept this away from my wife.”
“Oh, it’s too late for that,” Dyson explained. “Clint moped around through dinner and the start of poker night. Scott brought it up. I tried to steer them off topic, tell them to mind their own business. Scott shut up. Your wife doesn’t have to. She thinks your sister is being brutalized. Her words.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s because Nat’s been in her ear. But we need to manage that better. The one time she disobeyed me and left this house was with Nat.”
Dyson nodded his agreement.
Rising from his chair, Steve went to pour himself a bourbon. “You don’t think Clint is a concern, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“If we have a rat,” Steve had to say it, “Clint certainly has a motive.”
Dyson snorted. “If Clint was going to turn on us, don’t you think he would have done it before now? Clint followed orders. You wanted him to break your sister’s heart? He did. You want him to go to Europe so you could marry her off to Bruce? He did. Clint’s on the up and up.”
Maybe Dyson was right. But Steve wished he could keep him the hell away from Nat. He’d been so sure that Bruce could make it work, to care for his sister in a way that she deserved. His sister deserved better than a cluttered three-room apartment and a soldier who might not live long.
“Then there’s Belova,” Steve said. But he knew as soon as he said it what was coming.
“No,” Dyson said flatly. “Forget about it.”
“Things escalated when she came on the scene,” Steve replied.
“She wasn’t here when Clint got shot,” Dyson was quick to say. “Pretty sure she was here in this house when the shop got hit.”
“She’s supposed to be protecting my wife at the wedding,” Steve pointed out. “Kat and Hansen both got to her. And last night?”
Dyson was already shaking his head. “Hansen’s a psychotic son-of-a-bitch who caught her off guard at the wedding.”
There was something Dyson wasn’t saying. How did Yelena know Hansen?
“And last night? My wife is the one who shot Hansen,” Steve told him, taking a sip of his drink as he stood there. “It scares the shit out of me. They were already after her because of who her father was. Because she’s mine. Now this?”
“Hey, they got the drop of me,” Dyson said meaningfully. “Only reason you didn’t find my dead ass out there last night was because of Yelena.”
“Maybe she covered you,” Steve told him. “But twice now Hansen’s got the drop on her. Hansen is who is coming for my wife with Barnes’ blessing. If Yelena can’t handle him, she can’t protect my wife.”
Dyson didn’t like that answer. Steve could almost hear his mind working as he walked back to the desk and sat down.
“If not for Yelena, your wife might be gone,” Dyson explained. “Who taught her to shoot, huh?”
Steve remembered the cuff mark on her thigh on their wedding night. “I don’t remember asking anyone to teach my wife how to use weapons.”
“You wouldn’t.” Dyson chuckled.
His man didn’t have to finish that sentence. Steve knew in a given mood his wife with a weapon could possibly spell bad news for him down the road.
“Did you know?”
Shaking his head, Dyson held his gaze. “No.”
“I’m just supposed to accept someone teaching my wife to use a gun and God knows what else?” Steve wanted to know. “She got lucky last night. If she’d missed him, my wife would be gone, and we’d be having a different talk.”
Dyson gave him a look. “You think Yelena came up with that by herself? Think about it. Or did your wife ask her to show her some things?”
While Dyson just might be right, Steve wasn’t going to admit to that. “Belova is here on trial. I’ll be talking to her in the next day or so.”
“Talk to her,” Dyson told him. “She’ll listen. But you try and end that arrangement and it will be a full-on war with your wife.”
Steve knew it too. Still, there was something else he wanted to bring up.
“Yelena brought a woman here,” Steve reminded him. “Now, I’m told she was here to do my wife’s nails. But Neal said she looked familiar. He just couldn’t place her. You know anything I don’t?”
“What?” Dyson shook his head. “That woman was a beautician. I did the security check myself.” Dyson chuckled at that. “What do you think a cosmetologist is going to do?”
“Why did Neal recognize her?”
Dyson was still grinning. “How the fuck should I know? Neal is an uptight kiss ass. I’ve never liked him.”
“He’s a good man,” Steve replied.
“He’s a prick,” Dyson told him. “You want to look for rats, you might take a closer look at him.”
Steve realized that Dyson didn’t like Neal. But no one else had a problem with him and he’d proven himself over the last two years.
“How about Scott?” Steve asked.
Dyson side-eyed him. “Really?”
“How is Yelena?” Steve wanted to get off the topic.
The old man’s expression eased. “She’s concussed. But she’ll be okay according to doc. She just needs to take it easy for a couple of days. We’ve doubled security anyway.”
Holding up his hands, Steve didn’t take that on. “Fine. But I’ll be keeping a closer eye on her.”
***
You woke up at just after seven and you were alone. It felt strange as you stretched, sat up. Normally Steve woke you around five in ways that you had come to enjoy. Once he was done, you usually went back to sleep for a while. But today he was gone.
Then the night before all came back to you. The attack on the house. Hansen.
Scrambling to get a shower and get dressed, you were on a mission. Luca was surprised to see you burst into his kitchen the way you did. At first. But you asked him if he could get breakfast ready for Dyson and Yelena, planning to take it to them on trays.
“Dyson’s up already, he just left with Steve,” Luca explained.
“Who went with them?” you had to ask about security. Especially with everything that happened last night.
Luca pulled a face.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he finally muttered. “There was some disagreement on who was going with them. Clint ended up going. But Scott and Neal are still here with us.”
“Steve’s going to check on Nat.” Pulling down a glass, you went for the orange juice in the kitchen. “That fight was bad then.”
Luca chuckled. “I know you didn’t see your old man all that much. And that was stupid on his part. But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Just like he did.”
Which was Luca’s way of confirming your suspicions. Okay then.
Pouring yourself some juice, you smiled. “Thank you. It’s just… I didn’t choose this life. But it’s mine now so I’m going to learn it.”
“I don’t doubt you,” he said, getting ingredients.
“Where’s Yelena?”
“Must still be in bed,” the cook went on. “I haven’t seen her.”
“She’s really okay?”
“Concussion,” Luca told her.
“Bastard,” you mumbled, hating Hansen. You didn’t know what happened between her and Hansen in the past. Yet another secret from the past that could come back and bite all of you in the ass. You decided then and there to see if she would tell you what happened there.
“So I’ll get on that breakfast for her.”
You hugged him. “Thank you.”
Luca always had a pot of coffee on. You poured a cup for Yelena. You knew she liked caramel, so you flavored It for her, grabbed a saucer, and headed for the stairs.
You apparently weren’t the only one heading for Yelena’s room. You saw Neal before he saw you and he stopped.
Schooling his expression, he said, “Were you looking for someone, Mrs. Rogers?”
“No. Were you?”
There it was. That impatient smirk. You’d seen it before at the hospital.
“I was just checking on Belova,” he explained benignly.
Yelena had a good rapport with Luca, Clint, and Scott. She put her best face on whenever your husband was in the vicinity. But Neal? You’d never seen them interact now that you thought about it.
“I’ve got it,” you told him. “But thanks.”
“You don’t need to trouble yourself with this,” he was curt. “It’s not your job to look after those of us who work for your husband.”
Oh. Oh. Did he really just talk down to you?
“It is if I want it to be,” you informed him. You couldn’t help it, but your anger rose. Things were already tense, so it didn’t take much. “I’ve never seen you and Yelena talk. It just struck me as odd.”
Oh, that pissed him off. You watched color seep up from the crisp white collar of his shirt.
“Maybe she wouldn’t be injured, Mrs. Rogers, if you hadn’t interfered.” Neal squared up a little, tall as Steve he towered over you. “More people could end up hurt if you continue playing a game that you’re not suited for.”
“I’m new to all of this,” you said slowly, glaring back at him. “It’s true. But I’m not so new that I think I need advice on any aspect of my life from a soldier. Are we clear?”
A muscle at the man’s jaw jumped. It took a minute, but he finally said, “Yes, Mrs. Rogers.”
You shook your head. Who did he think he was?
You waited until he went back the way he came, out of sight, before you tried the door. It was unlocked. You hoped Yelena was okay with you just letting yourself in. You were quiet, trying not to wake her with a start.
As it was, she was already up, scribbling furiously on a notepad on her lap. When her gaze met yours, you saw her tears.
“I brought you coffee,” you told her with a smile. “Are you okay?”
Her face crumbled then, and she buried her face in her hands, sobs shaking her entire body.
You hustled over, placing the coffee on her bedside table with care. It was hot. Then you took a seat on the edge of her bed.
“Yelena,” you told her. “I’m so sorry about your concussion. How do you feel?”
“Like a failure,” she told you.
Wrapping her up in your arms, you held her there. Your gaze drifted to the notepad she’d been writing on. All you had to do was skim the first couple of lines she’d written to realize it was a resignation.
Easing back from her, you made her look at you. “Yelena, we need to talk.”
Stoically, she tried to get a grip on herself. The tears continued to slide down her face and it was a struggle for her to meet your gaze.
“We do,” she said in a shaking voice. “And I accept responsibility for what happened last night. I will… leave today and –”
“What are you talking about? You’re not resigning. I need you,” you assured her.
“You could have been taken or killed,” Yelena’s voice was heavy with self-directed anger.
“But I wasn’t.” You watched her swipe at her tears. “I’m still here.”
“I froze,” she muttered. “I—”
“But I didn’t,” you went on. “Thanks to you.”
Shaking her head, she still looked miserable. “You may want me to stay. But if I don’t resign, your husband will insist I go.”
“Let him try,” you explained. “I’ll go with you.”
Still, your friend looked despondent.
“Yelena, don’t worry about your position here. You won’t lose your position. I promise you that. But I need to know what happened,” you said carefully. “You have a history with Hansen. And I’m not judging you. But—”
Now she looked afraid. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. You were about to try and change the subject when she blew out an exhale.
“I know what he said but he… was never my ex,” she said slowly. “I don’t think of him that way.”
Dread flooded your heart at those words. If he wasn’t her ex, what had happened?
“My father worked for Steve’s father, before I was born,” she explained.
You nodded, listening.
“Hansen, is just a little older than your husband,” Yelena continued. “He didn’t have family connections to our world, but he wanted to be part of it very badly. He is ambitious. From what I’m told, he wasn’t well liked when he started out. Your father wasn’t even willing to give him a chance. For a long time, the best he did was take odd jobs he got from the Starks. Things no one else wanted to do.”
You had a bad feeling about her part in this story, but you didn’t say anything.
“When I was small, the feds came after the families in a big way,” she went on. “Another soldier Hansen frequently worked with was gunned down. Hansen survived. Barely. My father and another soldier found him there in the street and they took him in, saved his life.”
You could tell from the tempest of pain and fear in her face that she wished the story had ended there and differently.
“He fooled my father who took him under his wing,” Yelena explained. “He got him on with your husband's family. Once Hansen physically recovered, he demonstrated who he really was. He was ambitious and cruel. Whatever it took to get the job done, he did it. My father was pretty brutal, but Hansen’s tactics didn’t sit well, even with him. Or Dyson. Still, regular as clockwork, he’d visit us. Every month, he’d come to our house to have dinner and catch up with my father. He’d ask my father to tell him stories about his life, fed his ego.”
More tears. You reached for her hand as she struggled to continue her story. She let you.
“By then, my mother had passed, and my brother was always out with his friends. I’d beg him to let me go to a friend’s house,” Yelena told you. “To go anywhere. But he insisted I stay and cook them dinner. It would be good for me to learn, my father said. He meant for me to marry someone in the business, just like you.”
That explained why she wanted to help you. But Yelena became a soldier. And you were about to hear how that happened.
“My father didn’t notice the way he’d leer at me,” she went on. “The minute my father’s back was turned, or he left the room, Hansen was focused on me. It made my skin crawl. I even tried to explain this to my father, but he’d shake his head. ‘Hansen knows you’re not for him,’ he’d tell me. ‘He wouldn’t dare try anything with you because he’d have to deal with me,’ he’d say. And that was true.”
Oh, God.
“That last year of my father’s life, my brother went off to college,” Yelena went on. “He went to Julliard. My father was so proud that he would be a great musician. A cellist. I wanted him to be proud of me. I did well in school. I wanted to be out there in the world, like my brother. My father instead planned to marry me off because he knew he didn’t have long. He would try to introduce me to young soldiers he worked with.”
You shook your head. What was wrong with these men?
“Hansen was furious,” Yelena explained. “On top of those damned monthly dinners, he started showing up outside my school and my job. He’d scare off anyone who tried to talk to me at my father’s bidding. After that, I was afraid to talk to any other boys who were interested in me. I was afraid he’d hurt them.”
Yelena had been way too young to be afraid like that. Like you, she hadn’t had a chance.
“When my father passed? Hansen…” A sob cut her off. “Hansen moved into our house and he… took me. I haven’t heard from my brother since the funeral, nor any other people in my family, since then. He must have threatened them… he must have…”
Your heart broke at the story she told. She’d just been a girl at the mercy of a psychotic brute. You held her, let her cry it out. Yelena was choking on her tears.
You were choking back fury. The same young woman had protected you, helped guide you. Regardless of what the bastard had done to her, he didn’t completely break her. Yelena was strong.
Still, you swore to yourself you would make him pay.
“You survived him,” you whispered, your own tears pooling in your eyes. “You got away from him.”
Yelena eased away, nodded. The sliver of pride that had her chin rising gave you hope.
“I was his prisoner for over a year,” she said finally. “I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t speak to anyone. I had no access to a phone, to any media. I thought I was going to die.”
“You didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” Yelena said like she still had to convince herself. “One day he came back from a job, and he was badly beaten up. I was able to overpower him. I got out.”
“Can I ask you something?” When she nodded, you went on. “You stayed here, in Boston. Why? Why didn’t you go anywhere else? You could have disappeared.”
“He would have found me,” she said simply. “He wouldn’t have stopped until he did. When he wants something, he’s the most ruthless person you’ve ever encountered. There was only one place where I could go and be safe. I had to be protected by one of the families.”
You felt sick. Really?
“But not as a wife,” you offered.
“No, I’m not suitable for that now,” she explained. “But after what I went through, using sex to meet my goals didn’t seem so unreasonable. I hooked up with a soldier in the Wilson family. It wasn’t a relationship. He wanted sex. I wanted someone to teach me. I learned the basics from him. After he pointed me in the right direction, I did the rest on my own. I became a soldier.”
“Oh, my God,” you muttered.
“My relationship wasn’t enough to protect me on its own. So I moved around a lot, couch surfed,” she went on. “Dyson knew me because he and my father both worked for the Rogers family. I ran into him one night and... He helped me get jobs here and there. He let me stay at his house when I needed it."
You must have made a face at that.
"He was living with you," she told you. "Dyson has a home. Apparently, he chooses to live here to keep an eye on you."
That thought had you smiling. Dyson was the closest thing you actually had to a father.
"He got me the gig at your wedding.”
And you were so grateful for that.
“When you offered me this,” she said slowly, “you didn’t realize that you saved me.”
You smiled through your own tears. “We are saving each other.”
“It’s the best life I can have now.”
“You can’t say that,” you told her. “You could be anything you wanted, Yelena. You could be happy one day. Maybe even find someone who cares about you.”
“No one would want me now,” she said bitterly. “I’m scarred, damaged.”
That son-of-a-bitch. Whatever he’d done to her had been awful. You didn’t need to have that explained to you.
But he would pay.
“But I promise,” Yelena told you. “As long as I live, I will not let him do to you what he did to me.”
“I believe you.” You meant it. “And I’m really hoping you’ll stay by my side. I need you.”
“It may not be our choice.”
You didn’t miss her meaning.
“It will be my choice,” you assured her. “Don’t worry about that. Right now, rest. Luca is making your breakfast right now.”
She shook her head. “You’re taking care of me. That’s not how it’s supposed to go.”
“Fuck tradition,” you told her. You tore off the page she’d been writing on and ripped it in half. “I could care less how any of this is supposed to go. Now rest.”
***
Bucky smiled when Katerina opened the door of her apartment, showing off her assets in a barely-there negligee. The deep plum color flattered her. The painted smile she flashed had him looking forward to the evening ahead.
As he walked in, he saw there were artfully placed candles to set the mood. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air. There was a sumptuous charcuterie board with wine and glasses waiting for him, as she led him to the sofa.
“I missed you,” Kat promised him, her dark eyes sparkling.
Did she? Or was it her allowance that he continued after Rogers broke off from her?
It didn’t really matter. Bucky had plenty of money and Kat had something valuable to offer him in addition to sex. And the sex was pretty fantastic.
Bucky sank down onto her couch, letting her take a seat in his lap. She grinned to feel his hardness beneath her. Her slender hands slid up around his neck and she kissed his mouth with care and finesse.
Ending the kiss, he blew out an exhale. There was a little bit of business to attend to first.
“What’s on your mind, lover?” Kat asked sweetly.
Grinning, Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket. Hansen had sent him the picture an hour or so ago.
The smile faded from Kat’s face as she looked over the picture of the girl looking fearfully at the camera.
“I don’t want to see her.” She was pouting.
“Take a closer look,” Bucky bid her. “She’s not who you think.”
Kat looked at him in confusion. Then she really studied the picture. “Who? Who is she?”
“She’s nobody special to you,” he explained. “But she is missing.”
“Aside from the fact that she looks like her,” she wouldn’t say Mrs. Rogers, “why does she matter?”
“She works in a local donut shop,” Bucky told her as he pocketed his phone. “I need you to make sure your sister knows that. I want her to make sure Bruce Banner knows that.”
A smile slowly curved those sensuous lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I can do that.”
“But you want something?” Bucky wondered if she knew how easy she was to read.
Kat nodded, her long glossy curls catching the light. “I want to know why.”
That was the best part. And if Kat were going to continue helping him burn down Steve Rogers’ life, well, he decided he really should tell her something.
“Well, the last mission I sent you on worked spectacularly,” Bucky told her with a grin, brushing a kiss over her bare shoulder. “Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Banner had quite a fight.”
“Why does that matter?” she asked, very interested in the answer.
Bucky brushed another kiss over her neck. “It matters because the girl in that picture worked in a shop on Steve’s turf. Her older sister was best friends with Natasha in college. That should push Steve’s sister deeper into her current hysteria.”
The smile was brilliant now. “You’re pulling his entire world apart, aren’t you lover?”
“That’s the plan.” Bucky continued to press kisses to her warm skin. “To show him there’s no one I can’t reach. That no one around him is safe. Not the people he’s supposed to protect. Not his sister. Not his men… Not his new bride.”
The pout was back. “You should have taken her, not that girl.”
Hansen had come pretty close.
Bucky kissed those pouty lips. “In time,” he whispered against them.
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#His Inheritance#Mafia au#Bucky Barnes#Steve Rogers#Mafia daughter reader#Yelena Belova#Bruce Banner#Natasha Banner#Clint Barnton#Lloyd Hansen#Donut Girl#Scott Lang#Dark fic
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Idk what I'm even writing but here is a What If extension fic about Rogers Hood singing. The whole fic is there just for the song.
“Who are you?” Strange drawled, looking at the blue-green clad mercenary looking guy.
He had been stuck in Earth-1602, successfully evading capture by the Sherriff for only so long. T'Challa from Earth-527 was supposed to get him sometime soon, but the wait had stretched into days.
He was in the Sherriff's carriage being grandly arrested by the familiar looking official and his following army of guards, when a gang of tree swinging bandits had surrounded them, forcing them to dismount.
A carriage up ahead with a man in a pentagonal hat standing outside, told them that the Bishop was also undergoing a robbery.
The man in the green and blue clothes chuckled. “I’m known far and wide as a legendary outlaw, Strange Wizard!” He dropped his hood with flair, revealing his face. “I am Steven Rogers, or Rogers Hood as people have come to call me.”
“Rogers Hood?” Strange scoffed. “Not surprising though… you do tend to do illegal things in every universe.”
“’Tis the powerful that maketh legality immoral, my friend. To abide thy morals, thou must break the law.” Steve replied unfazed at the mention of universes. His gaze turned rather cold when he looked at the other people from the carriage. "Sherriff Thaddeus Ross. Pleasant morn it is, but for thy presence."
The Sheriff growled. “Thy speech of morals shield not thine acts of disgrace! Thou hast lain with men as thou would with a maiden: it is frowned upon, verily!"
The guy close beside Rogers Hood shed his own hood to raise a haughty eyebrow. The manicured beard was confusing, but it was undoubtedly Bucky Barnes.
Rogers Hood did not seem perturbed at being accused of sodomy but rather, leaned sideways to kiss Bucky on the cheek, smirking at the Sherriff. “So be it! ’Twould be thine own visage that is marred!”
“ 'Tis God’s visage that you mar!” The Bishop cried from a few yards away, rather bravely for someone being searched for coin.
“How little must thou think of Him, that a poor outlaw can change His divine skin!” Rogers cried louder, throwing his hands up like he was on Broadway. “A Bishop, indeed, thy Bishop clothes don’t hide the doubt within!”
“Uhm, Rogers Hood, could you-?” Strange started.
“Interrupt him not!” Another Merry Man with a bow- who looked like Clint Barton- who was Clint Barton, shushed him. Rogers really began singing like he was in a musical- even jumping onto a sunlit tree stump as the Sherriff watched in agony.
“How little must thou believe in thine own self to bring an army: When Merry Men are armed with naught but bows”
“But bows!” The Merry Men added.
“How little must thou find it in thy heart to be more charming: When Merry Men, we zest while in the throes!”
“The Throes!”
"Well, maidens go to Church no more, for we have larger bells!"
"AYE!"
"But we insisted they must trust the Lord!"
"The Lord!"
"And maidens who skipped Synagogues for the reasons much the same, we led them back to their fine carven doors!"
"Doors!"
The Merry Men began chanting as Rogers turned to Strange with a flourish.
"Now this fine old Wizard doth seek to know us well, what ways of ours shall we queintein him with?"
"We spend our days with parties gay under the sunny glades," Sang Bucky Barnes.
"We give the poor what we steal from the rich!" Sang the Leonardo da Vinci looking version of Sam Wilson.
"We hate the King of England and the Sheriff we hate more, the travelers of Egypt* are our kith!" sang Clint Barton.
The trees around them rang with song:
"And maidens go to Church no more, for we have larger bells- hey! But we insisted they must trust the Lord!
And maidens who skipped Synagogues for the reasons much the same, we led them back to their fine carven doors!"
The Bishop grew increasingly purple with every reprise of the chorus, like he was going to explode. They actually repeated it three times before Rogers took the stage again-
"And now my sweet Bishop thou seemst burdened with thy gold-"
"Let us free thy shoulders of this weight!" Scott Lang joined in.
"For, O wretched Bishop sitting in thy Bishop clothes, you've become the very thing He hates!" Steve finished with a laugh.
The guards waited for some command from the Sherriff, but the Sherriff was far too occupied with being gagged. Dr. Strange alone was not subject to such treatment.
"Go, now!" Barnes boomed, waving a crossbow at the army. "You don't want to be caught here with us! Return to thy wives before you get arrows up thy arses!"
The guards scattered nervously casting glances at the Sherriff. They couldn't all be punished if they left together, could they?
Dr. Strange started again: "So, er- Rogers Wood, I mean, Hood uhm-"
Steve nodded at him while rounding up the valuables. "I have heard of ye, Strange Wizard... I doth not doubt we are in f'r a delightful conversation!"
"Neither do I." A voice came from across the road. The calm, regal consonance of-
"T'Challa!" Strange cried, half relieved, half really annoyed.
The space pirate revealed himself- not bothering to hide his bootstrap jet boosters from the medieval folk. He was dressed like a Golden Age pirate but with a punk metal twist that was probably lost on the people present there.
"Fie! Fie!" The Bishop wailed, "'Tis the devil! 'Tis the- ack!"
Clint Barton gagged the Clergyman for good and stared at the new arrival. "And who may that be! He flies with fire on his feet, like Hermes himself!"
"And yet his name is T'Challa." Rogers Hood mused, signaling his men to lower their arms. "I know of only one T'Challa- and he is the King of Wakanda. Art thou he?"
Star Lord T'Challa's eyes glimmered with mirth. "Oh well, I'm not him. I just share a name with him, Captain Hood. I'm from another universe, and I am here to collect Dr. Strange."
"Thou art free to take him, if he doth not wish for our protection against you." Rogers smiled.
"How about... we sit down for a drink with them?" Strange sighed. "I don't want your protection, but I do want to get back at this asshole."
"Oh Bast, what slander!" T'Challa gasped mockingly. "Weren't you trying to leave this place as fast as you could?"
"I'm not leaving now that I've found the best part?" Strange shrugged.
T'Challa hopped down merrily to the ground. "Well, one outlaw to another, I would love the company!"
"Outlaw!?" Roger Hood perked up.
"Outlaw." Strange groaned.
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How I think the Moon Boys would react to meeting Other Heroes
I want to eventually turn these into fanfics relaying the events in detail (and if you want to as well, please do and tag me in it, I'd love to see what you make!) but for now we just do meta :] I'm gonna do the OG 6 avengers first, but I'll likely reblog later with other heroes if people seem interested, so lemme know if you wanna see more!
Tony Stark
Marc: Definitely assumes this guy is an asshole before ever meeting him. He's a billionaire, he's cocky, he built a giant tower with his name on it--he's got all the makings of a real asshole. Upon meeting him? Well, yeah, he has to admit the guy is smart and fights well. They can work as a team when in battle for sure. Still cannot stand his personality though, and it's in part because Marc can see some parts of himself in Tony. He really doesn't like the idea that he might relate to guy who used to be fine with building weapons for awful people.
Steven: Definitely hesitant about him, in part because Marc is so adamant about his assumptions. However upon meeting him, I think Steven could grow to like him in some ways. Sure he's cocky, and has a hard exterior, but it's not like he doesn't know how to deal with that, sharing a body with Marc and Jake. He likes to hear Tony explain science and machines to him, and I could see them talking about their weapons and armor, exchanging ideas. He too is fine to fight alongside Iron Man
Jake: He's also hesitant about Stark, both because of Marc and because of his role as the protector, but he can't help but admit... the guy has fuckin style. He particularly likes Tony's cars, and when he sees magazines in the store detailing all of Tony's cars, he can't help but snag one. And when he MEETS Tony? Well it takes help from Steven outright telling Tony that he'd love to see them, but Tony does show Jake his garage full of cars, and they chat about it for so long that Marc and Steven have to practically drag the body back home before midnight. Fighting enemies with him is an entire different playing field however. Jake really hates being told what to do, so generally he'll let Marc or Steven handle battles alongside Iron Man
Steve Rogers
Marc: Mixed feelings about Cap before meeting him for sure. He was a soldier like Marc was, and for that Marc feels a sense of loyalty or comradery with him. Cap also fought in WWII and helped save a lot of Jewish people, which obviously puts him in a good light. But at the same time, he's named Captain America, the same nation that spit him out of the marines with no support, no option but to become a mercenary to survive. After meeting him though, he finds that he quite likes Cap. They bond over their pasts as soldiers, and exchange stories of punching fascists right in the kisser. He considers it quite an honor to fight alongside Cap in any battles
Steven: He liked Cap from the very beginning, since he was a kid. Not obsessed, he never collected cards like Coulson, but he always regarded him as a hero for what he did in WWII. He's never liked to be called Steve, always the full name Steven, but it still made him just a little bit proud to share the same name as Captain America. After meeting Cap, he found he appreciated him as a person as well, not just as a hero. He enjoyed hearing Cap's stories about what life was like in his time, and they exchanged song recommendations together often. He too finds it an honor to fight alongside Cap
Jake: Jake didn't think much about Cap before meeting him. Sure, he was glad for what he did in WWII, saving Jewish people and punching Hitler, but he kind of thought that should've been the standard anyways. He didn't feel the need to praise the guy just for standing up for Jewish people, if anything he preferred to praise the Jewish doctor that MADE the super soldier serum, he was the one that gave them this great hero after all. After meeting Cap he did find he warmed up to him though. He was a good man, even if a bit robotic at times. Again though, he cannot stand people telling him what to do, especially in the commanding, soldier-like way Cap does it. At least Tony makes a funny comment when he tells people what to do, Cap just orders you, and Jake does NOT like that
Thor Odinson
Marc: VERY hesitant about this guy, as past experience with gods has not exactly gone well for him. Upon meeting him he realizes quickly that Thor isn't much of a threat (to him at least), and he gets less cagey. He doesn't exactly become friends with Thor, but they're nice enough to each other, and can fight as a team well. Secretly tho? He thinks Thor's whole lightning and thunder thing is pretty cool
Steven: Also again hesitant due to Thor's whole God-ness, but also realizes he wouldn't harm them. He is INTENSELY interested in Asgardian/Norse mythology though, and spends several evenings asking Thor a million questions about the different realms, the culture of Asgard and all the magic that exists there. Thor promises to one day show him the Bifrost and Asgardian palace library, as well as introduce him to Heimdall, who could tell Steven more about the realms than Thor ever could
Jake: AGAIN, not exactly excited about meeting another God, and even after meeting him, Jake is still unsure for a long time. He's always quick to remind Steven that Thor is a god and things could go bad with him at any time. With time he learns to trust Thor, and have a tentative relationship with him, at least enough that he's willing to fight alongside the god in battle
Clint Barton
Marc: He'd heard of someone called Hawkeye fighting in the Battle of New York, and mostly thought he must've been insane (or stupid) for fighting aliens with a bow and arrow. However after meeting him he did find a new respect for him. I think of all the people to spar with, he'd often choose Hawkeye, both because they're similar in strength (without the suit at least), and because Clint has a similar fighting style to him. They both utilize rooftops, darts/arrows/grappling hooks, and hand-to-hand combat, so he's a great person to practice with. They work well in battle together.
Steven: He was impressed hearing about a guy fighting aliens with a bow and arrow for sure. After meeting him I think he does like Clint, but might feel intimidated by him. He doesn't seem to be the most open of people, and he can see why Marc enjoys his company because of that, but Steven himself just finds Clint a bit difficult to talk to. They work fine in battle, but not as well as Jake and Marc do.
Jake: I think of anyone in MK system Jake probably is the one that can talk to Clint the most easily. He's relaxed enough that he doesn't worry about Clint being cagey at times, and good enough at bantering and talking with people to get Clint to relax and open up more. If anyone is able to start a good friendship with Clint, it's Jake. This also makes it so they work well fighting together
Natasha Romanoff
Marc: Absolutely just cannot vibe with this woman, at least at first. He could tell immediately that she was analyzing him and trying to get information about himself and his past out of him when they first met, and it just threw him off instantly. Something about the spy, manipulation tactics stuff, and honestly her being a woman, just reminded him too much of his mom. Over time he would learn to be less nervous around her, especially as he realized her analytical first impression was part of a mask she put on, but he couldn't say he ever truly relaxed around her. He doesn't enjoy fighting alongside her much, but he's willing to do it
Steven: He honestly thought she was fine upon meeting her, and that Marc was freaking out over someone just being friendly to him. It's not that he didn't realize she was analyzing them, but more that he understood quickly that it was a mask. She reminded him of Marc and Jake really, and similar to them, it was just a matter of being open enough that the other person felt comfortable taking of their mask too. I think they'd get along pretty well honestly, almost a grumpy+sunshine dynamic similar to him and his alters. They don't fight very similarly though, so while they get along, there's a lot more communication happening between them to try and fight better together.
Jake: Would also tell immediately that she was trying to analyze them upon first meeting, and I think that might actually trigger him to front when they first meet. She also reminded him of their mother, and Jake would immediately start handing that same energy back to her. I could honestly see a scene where she's asking them questions, and Jake starts to front and responds to her questions with his own questions. However, I think this would result in a friendship to be honest haha! I think through analyzing each other they would figure out they're similar in a lot of ways, and Jake would end up trusting her a lot. He would know that she understood what it was to have secrets and to be constantly striving to be better than the person you were in the past, and he would understand her for the same reasons. I also think they would bond a bit over their protective natures, with how she's protective over Clint and Yelena, and how he protects Marc and Steven. Oh and they would 100000000% dance together. It's basically their version of sparring haha, and in battle in makes it so they barely have to talk in order to coordinate seamlessly together, which works perfectly for him because he doesn't have to be told what to do but he can still work well with her
Bruce Banner/The Hulk
Marc: He'd heard of the Hulk before, and wasn't really sure what to think of it. Some people said he was a good guy, some people said he was bad, overall Marc just kinda hoped he'd never be on his bad side. After meeting Bruce he found that he wasn't afraid of the Hulk at all when he transformed. Cautious of course, but not afraid. He liked Bruce, he kind of reminded him of Steven in his awkwardness and nerdy ramblings. He wasn't exactly close with either Bruce or the Hulk, but they gained a mutual trust
Steven: Steven was very interested in Bruce and the Hulk ever since he'd first heard about them, and at first thought it might've been a weird, magical, or mutated version of DID. Obviously he quickly found out that wasn't the case at all, but he was still very interested in the duality of Bruce and The Other Guy and he ended up having long talks with Bruce about it when they met. I think if they'd met back then, Steven might've been able to help Bruce a lot when he was trying to figure out how to find a balance between himself and the hulk, help him figure out how to merge the best of both worlds. Steven's interactions with Hulk weren't as amicable in the beginning though, because Hulk viewed him mainly as "Banner's Friend", but Steven was still kind to him, so eventually The Hulk grew to like him too
Jake: Jake thought the Hulk was really cool honestly, but he could understand why Bruce didn't like it, because he understood the frustrating feeling of switching when you didn't want to, losing control when things got too emotional. However he didn't really voice how he related to Bruce until much further into their friendship. He still liked Bruce a lot though, for the same reason Marc did, he reminded him of Steven. He likely gets along with The Hulk a bit more though, because of he enthusiastically encouraging he is of the Hulk. He's considered the Hulk's friend, and he fights well alongside him. Overall I also think the Hulk likes the MK system because he understands that they switch similarly to how he and Bruce do, and may actually think about them working together so well when Bruce proposes the idea of them merging and working together better.
BONUS
Loki Laufeyson
(this one I actually already have a fanfic for, which is why there's a link, though it's set in a sort of AU where the Mind Stone hypnotized Loki and made him more violent and evil than he actually is. Here I'll talk about a more canon-ish reaction)
Marc: Obviously, none of the MK boys are gonna like this guy initially. The man sent an alien army to earth, he's not made a good first impression. Getting to know him over time is where things begin to change. When Marc starts to figure out that his swagger and menacing personality is more of a persona than how he actually is, he starts to kind of connect the dots and figure out that this guy may have been manipulated in some way, and may be going through things similar to what Marc went through when he was a mercenary. However he doesn't dig much into it, because he really doesn't love the idea that he might relate to a guy who tried to take over the entire earth (similar to how he doesn't want to relate to Tony either).
Steven: Steven would again, not be a fan of Loki, but unlike the other two, he would be the one actively looking for any sort of redeeming quality in him. Steven would be the one to find out about Loki's father, and how poorly he was treated, and would be able to communicate that to Jake and Marc. He would be the gentlest with Loki, and would likely be able to see through Loki's mask much easier than Marc or Jake would. Whether this would result in a friendship is harder to say though. He would be happy to talk to Loki about his problems, but I can't see him easily finding something to connect with him about. Maybe through magic, and Loki talking about spells and things he knows, similar to how Steven bonds with Thor.
Jake: Again, not a fan at first, but that changes over time. Unlike Marc, Jake would likely trust Steven's ideas about Loki, and how he may not be as horrible as he seems, or at least, he may have been manipulated into being what he is now. Jake I think would be able to talk to Loki and create a stronger friendship with him than the other two, being the people person he is. He wouldn't be able to easily talk about the trauma-related stuff, that's more Steven's expertise, but he would be able to see what Steven does eventually, and realize Loki isn't so different. He'd be able to analyze him similarly to how he did with Natasha, and while he won't talk to Loki about what he realizes, his opinions will still change, and he'll see him in a different light.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading! Lemme know if you want to hear about the MK boys (or Layla???) reacting to more heroes! Again, if you make anything based of of these ideas, definitely tag me, I wanna see what you made!!
#moon knight#marvel#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#MCU#oscar isaac#moon knight meta#mk meta#marvel meta#mcu meta#tony stark#steve rogers#thor#clint barton#natasha romanoff#bruce banner#hulk#loki laufeyson#the avengers#og avengers#mcu#headcanons
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Bucky Barnes Time Traveling Masterlist
1946 (fanfiction.net) - WintersSunrise
T, 36k
Summary: When a mercenary presumed dead threatens to unravel a timeline, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson are thrust back to 1946 where the fates of Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, and S.H.I.E.L.D. hang in the balance. They navigate a painful past fraught with post-war shadows while deciding whether to preserve the timeline or remake it.
21st Century Brooklyn Boys (ao3) - khaosNotRefundable
T, 121k
Summary: In which Steve & Bucky from the 1930s wind up time-traveling to the 21st century and finally run into each other...sort of. Brooklyn’s still Brooklyn. Only bustling, shiny, and very expensive. Bucky wants to know why this little yahoo of his is now Big and Sad. And Steve’s pretty certain the last time he saw him, Bucky wasn’t a very confused, quiet, long-haired, dangerous version with so many knives…and a metal arm…
OR:
Who’d’ve thunk procrastinating an arts assignment could save two pals in another century?
Cross the Same River Twice (ao3) - littlerrhymes
steve/bucky
T, 5k
Summary: In the fall of 1940, a stranger with Bucky's face saves Steve and Bucky's lives. The stranger claims he's from the future and that his only mission is to protect Steve Rogers.
Ghosts of War (ao3) - eden22
steve/bucky
E, 112k
Summary: The Winter Soldier was never meant to survive that final mission. The Winter Soldier returns to HYDRA soaked in blood and water anyways, Captain America and Insight both dead at the bottom of the river.
HYDRA has failed. HYDRA cannot have failed. HYDRA decides to give the Winter Soldier one last chance to shape the century.
If killing Captain America didn't work, maybe killing Steve Rogers will.
It remembers you (ao3) - often_adamanta
steve/bucky
T, 13k
Summary: When the Asset fails to complete his mission and kill Captain America on the bridge, HYDRA decides to take a more drastic approach to changing to world. The Asset is sent back in time to kill Steve Rogers before he becomes Captain America in order to erase him from history. Soon he’s dealing with failing his mission a second time and coming face to (masked) face with his own past.
I've Heard That Song Before (ao3) - Pokimoko
steve/peggy
T, 95k
Summary: In the year since he broke free from HYDRA, Bucky Barnes has been trying to rediscover himself, searching for who he was in the words of history books and within the memories he is slowly recovering. While journeying through Hungary, he meets a mysterious old woman who promises to help him. He accepts, not realising that her idea of helping involves time travel.
He gets sent back to 1944, into the body of his younger self. Bucky, with no clear idea of how to return to the future, tries his best to rediscover the Bucky that Steve, Peggy, and the Howling Commandos know him to be, whilst also having to deal with a mission straight out of his worst nightmares.
Journey Home (ao3) - EiraLloyd
steve/bucky
T, 14k
Summary: One moment, Bucky was raiding a Hydra base alongside the Avengers. The next, he was stuck in November 1943, with no way back home and no one to trust. Not even a day later, Steve walked into his room at a London inn and kissed him.
What the hell was going on?
Leave Yourself Behind (ao3) - raendown
sam/bucky
T, 76k
Summary: “It’s a very long story,” he said.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The basic truth itself could be summed up real easy: that guy right there is me from the future and that’s his pal Sam, also from the future. All the details and the questions afterwards - only half of which got actual answers - that’s what really took so long.
When a version of himself from the future is brought back to the past right in front of him suddenly HYDRA isn't the most interesting thing in this war. But the more time Bucky spends with himself and the new companion who came with him, the more questions he finds himself with. How much time has really passed? How much can one man be changed from himself? Who is this Sam - and what will he grow to mean to Bucky?
Operation Hindsight (ao3) - DCAngst
T, 111k
Summary: When Steve chases the assassin who shot Fury, he realizes the sniper is strong, fast, and has a metal arm...but he's not the only player in the game. Who is the other guy on the roof—the one who may have just saved Steve's life?
Synopsis: Bucky and Sam travel from 2024 to 2014 to thwart Hydra agents armed with knowledge of the future from changing the timeline. To do that, Bucky has to stop the Winter Soldier from assassinating Captain America.
Out Of Time (ao3) - ibroketuesday
steve/bucky
E, 38k
Summary: Bucky can't remember anything before Hydra. He doesn't want to know about his life. That's the way it has to be: Bucky Barnes was a monster, and the past is in the past.
Or: in which Steve and Bucky are thrown back to 1937, where they have to figure out how to get home, work together, and, as another time traveler hunts them down, simply stay alive.
Savage God (ao3) - LenneWithMilkAndHoney, PottersPink
steve/bucky
M, 36k
Summary: Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why.
The Asset was only with Steve in 1942 for a few days, but it’s enough to change the course of Steve’s life forever; the journey to becoming Captain America is coloured with urgency, with an undercurrent of fear and determination that in the end he just can’t manage to hide from everyone — But it was all for nothing. Steve saves Bucky from Zola, just to lose him on the train. Their second chance, wasted.
Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.
The Future Looks Bleak Without You (ao3) - syriala
bucky/tony
G, 3k
Summary: Bucky had known that joining the Avengers after everything he went through would mean some really strange stuff would continue to happen to him. Seeing a future version of himself in the living-room still hadn't made his list.
“Jesus, I’m Bucky, I’m from the future, would you please put the gun down before you kill yourself.”
“Shut up!” the Soldier barked. “What’s your mission?” he asked because it was apparent that he would not get a satisfactory answer out of the intruder.
“I’m cupid.”
Thermotemporal Equations (ao3) - Blinky the Tree Frog (blinkytreefrog)
T, 48k
Summary: Bucky Barnes is used to strange happenings; his time with the Howling Commandos has guaranteed that. He's therefore not totally thrown off balance when he wakes up in an extraordinary tower in a seemingly impossible year. He can’t help but be worried though, no matter how much reassurance he's getting from Steve and his new team.
to memory now I can't recall (ao3) - Etharei
steve/bucky
E, 102k
Summary: While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.
Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.
When In Brooklyn (ao3) - McBiteypants, Spintwin
E, 191k
Summary: Bucky Barnes arrives at the Sokovian memorial to take Baron Zemo into custody only for the multiverse to crack open at exactly that moment and throw the two of them back to somewhere that’s very familiar to Bucky: 1940s Brooklyn.
Winter Solider: Resurrection (ao3) - DCAngst
G, 38k
Summary: In 2024, Bucky Barnes follows a lead about more super soldier serum that takes him to Siberia. He encounters the unexpected and finds himself in 2014, shortly after the Winter Soldier vanished.
Winter Undone (ao3) - DCAngst
steve/bucky
T, 74k
Summary: What if, after the Endgame battle, Dr. Strange used the time stone to save Tony and undo 80 years of Hydra for Bucky? In other words, 1945 Bucky ends up in 2023 and has to come to terms with...a lot.
#themculibrary#masterlists#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes#time travel#time travel masterlist#bucky barnes time traveling#bucky barnes time traveling masterlist#au
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The first night I saw you
Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Warnings: PTSD, Mentions of Infidelity, Pregnancy, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, My Own Personal Trauma 🫥, Trust Issues
Tags: @bullet-prooflove @skittle479
“It’s positive.” You fake a smile as your lip trembles, pointing at the pregnancy test with tear-stricken eyes as he enters your room, shutting the door behind him.
“You’re not happy?” He takes a seat next to you on the bed as soon as he notices your less than enthusiastic reaction, covering your hand with his in a gentle attempt to break your concentration.
You assume his words indicate that he is… happy about it. A stream of sorrow races down each cheek, blurring your vision before spilling into your lips as you finally relent and turn your head to face your patient lover.
“Hey,” he whispers, taking your face in his hands to gently wipe the tears from your eyes as his features contort in confusion. “What’s wrong? I know we didn’t plan this, but…”
“No, it’s not that.” There’s no way you could possibly verbalize how frightened you are right now without sounding completely insane. How could someone like him possibly understand that the last time a test like this came back positive, all the dominoes in your life seemed to fall until there were none left standing, leaving you there all alone to pick them up? How could you tell him that you willingly faced monsters and mercenaries without any fear because the only thing that truly scared you, the only thing that shook you to your core was this? The possibility of losing him because things had to change.
“I’m just… scared,” you start, not knowing any other way to put it.
You know that Steve is nothing like your ex, nothing like anyone you’ve ever met before in your life, but he’s still a man. Who’s to say that he won’t start seeking affection somewhere else once you begin to grow? Who’s to say that he won’t avoid your glances or shirk your touch after the weight of future responsibilities becomes too heavy for him to bear? Who’s to say what the two of you have together is strong enough to withstand something as disruptive and chaotic as a child?
“You’re gonna be fine, the baby’s gonna be fine.” His voice soothes you for the moment, his palms feathering over your face and hair as he tries to understand the reason for your tears.
“Yeah, but will we?” You sniff and wipe your nose with the back of your wrist, looking into his eyes as if a definitive answer to your question lays deep within their sapphire hues.
“What do you mean? Of course we will.” He presses his lips together and tilts his head to the side, eventually figuring out the root of your fear as a tender look of understanding somehow warms his features. “Do you remember the first night I saw you?”
You nod, unable to do anything else as your entire body shakes in his arms.
“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and when I started talking to you, I knew that I was right.” He smiles and pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin as the last of your remaining tears drip off your face and onto his lap. “Seeing you as the mother of our child will only make you more beautiful.”
You can’t quite process his reaction as his words settle into the air, shocking you into stunned silence as they begin to melt over you, warming your entire body with that secure feeling Steve always brought with him. He takes his time to cradle you, surrounding you with his massive arms, rocking you back and forth before kissing the top of your head. “Whatever you’re afraid of, we’ll face it together, okay?” He places his hand over your belly, holding it there until the streaks of saline dry onto your face in patterns of little white crystals.
“Promise?” You look up at him, your bones no longer vibrating at full intensity as he eases his grip on you.
“Promise.” He kisses you again, this time so passionately that you almost believe him.
#nomad steve rogers#Steve rogers#Captain America#nomad steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#Steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x female reader#nomad steve rogers x reader
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to become a monster
a morbius stucky au
Just imagine a lil Stevie Rogers tryna make it in the world. A brilliant young boy with a keen mind for science, stuck in a facility to help him live.
Enter Brock Rumlow, just another kid with bad blood running through his veins. Dubbed Arnie by Stevie, after a string of boys that always end up leaving the facility in body bags, Brock and the little blond mastermind become good friends.
Fast Forward to the Future
Dr. Steven "Steve" Rogers and Arnie are still best friends. Arnie funds Steve's research for a cure to their disease and others like them.
Enter Dr. James "Bucky" Barnes, army vet turned scientist with a metal arm to show for his efforts.
Working with Dr. Rogers was something else, the guy was a firecracker with a mind for the ages. Bucky learned so much from Steve, he grew to admire the blond's inner strength that made him seem larger than life, his willingness to help people, to give his all in order to save lives.
Once Bucky realizes what Steve's research is actually about and what he plans to do... well, Bucky goes with him. He's not going to allow Steve to do this alone! Absolutely not, Steve would have to count his fuckin' days if he ever thought he would be attempting self-experimentation on his own! He's going to make sure nothing happens to him, even if he has to conduct the procedure with Steve. Save that little asshole from himself...
It breaks Bucky's heart to see Steve lyin' on that table like that but if helps him live, he'll wait by his side because that's what partners do. He doesn't know how he'll react if something goes wrong, he doesn't know how he'll go on without his Stevie.
Of course, things do end up doing wrong. Sleazy mercenaries that think they're above everyone get caught in the crosshairs and Bucky, well... he gets hurt.
Steve can't believe what he's done. Bucky's lying there on the ground, he's still alive - heartbeat strong in his chest, metal arm resting limp at his side. All he knows is that he can't leave Bucky like this... but he can't get caught in the crosshairs by the authorities either. So he makes a call... then he leaves...
Steve is a scientist at his core, he knows he'll have to see just how powerful he has become, to understand just what he can do. Of course that comes with consequences when Arnie comes back into the picture with his own desire to live. Steve knows that no one can get their hands on the serum he created, not even Arnie.
Bucky wakes in a daze to officers in his hospital room. So many questions about Steve's whereabouts, about dead mercenaries, about unsanctioned experiments, but he says nothing. He knows nothing, he hit his head and blacked out, there's nothing he can help the officers with. He would rather die than turn on Stevie.
Bucky knows the cops will be watching him after that interview though. He weaves through the city with his work bag on his shoulder, trying to lose his tail. He speaks Romanian with the bodega owner before dashing out the back of the store and onto the next bus that comes his way.
Hearing Steve's voice behind him sends tremors of relief and desire through his veins. Stevie's okay, is all Bucky can think. There is no way he will let the little bastard out of his sight again. Only, he's a big bastard now.
Stevie as always needs Bucky's help. Arnie has lost his marbles and stole a vial of the serum to become the monster Steve wanted to protect the world from. Bucky vows to do whatever it takes to help Steve, he always will, till the end of the line.
Getting back into the lab is easy for Bucky. No cops anywhere, retrieving everything Steve needs will be a breeze. Or it should have been. Arnie was waiting for him, or rather, for his Stevie. It's easy to keep his heartbeat calm but how long will he be able to keep this up?
Bucky returns to Stevie's side in the makeshift lab where they spend a little time getting reacquainted with each other. Where they can finally act on desires they've had for awhile.
The moment doesn't last but often times they never do. Being pulled away from Bucky never settles well in Steve's stomach but his old mentor needs his help.
It's obvious that all this was Arnie's doing to draw him away from his Bucky. That much is plain when he hears both of them calling on the wind. Stevie, Stevie, Stevie. Arnie's plan in drawing Steve out works, nothing will keep him from Bucky but it's too late. A kiss of death is all Steve can give Bucky. All Bucky wants is for it to mean something as his life slips away from him but not before taking a bit of Stevie's blood into himself.
youtube
A fight to the death between Stevie and Arnie, Brock, sees Steve as the winner while Bucky claws his way back to life.
If anyone wants to write this just tell me and send me a link to read!
#stucky au#loosely written#not writing a full fic#too many wips#morbius#I enjoyed the movie#a lil oneshot type thing#a headcanon maybe?#Youtube
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