Fandom, Fuckery, & Fucking

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, eyes locked in an intense gaze, then simultaneously breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"I can't believe we pulled it off," Steve said, his lungs beginning to work again properly.

"Shit. Why did that scare me more than any other field agent assignment in recent history?" Bucky grumbled, shaking his head.

"Because you love the target this time," Steve replied back with a relieved grin, stroking his husband's cheek affectionately. He felt almost triumphant in their success.

You'd been with them for nearly two months now, having passed your probation period and been given the official blessing. It had been bliss- fantastic, fun, and full of love. Lots of cuddles, lots of silly and sweet play, lots and lots of cookies, all the time.

Then they got a whiff of Jellybean, your most favorite stuffie in the world.

You dragged that bunny everywhere you were allowed to. She slept in your arms at night, she went to all the parties and playdates and picnics, and she was both an excellent tea party companion and a brave soldier in Daddy's army (bunnies are versatile like that).

But just yesterday, you'd been snuggling on Steve's lap while he worked at his desk, Jellybean cuddled close to you. You were feeling littler than normal, and Steve was happy to indulge you. But having that stuffie practically right under his nose made him suddenly aware of just how much dirt, sweat, and who knows what else was lingering in her soft fur. And when you brought Jellybean's ear to your mouth to suck on, Steve nearly had an nervous breakdown. And then, so did you when they tried to take her from you to wash her.

You were in a littler mindset and didn't understand what was happening, couldn't understand their gentle explanations. All you knew was that you WERE NOT letting that bunny go for anything. It had been a rough couple hours with a lot of tears (which freaked them both out) before they gave up, determined to try again tomorrow.

You were about where you normally were regression-wise today, but you still had lingering anxiety about your beloved Jellybean, so she was firmly in your grasp from the moment you woke up. Steve was losing his mind, freaking himself out with the germs and diseases that he'd conjured up in his mind. He became desperate. Not a good look.

They'd waited until they finally got you down for a nap, then they struck. Moving with the precision of two super soldiers in the Temple of Doom, they'd managed to extract Jellybean from under your arm while you were deeply asleep and replace her with Pipsqueak, your second favorite stuffie (who was going to be due for the same treatment soon, but one step at a time). They'd snuck back out, not making a sound, and had gotten Jellybean into the wash on the gentle cycle. The laundry room door was shut so you wouldn't hear.

Success!

*****************************************************

You woke up about twenty minutes later. Normally, you slept for about an hour during nap time, but...something was off. Something felt wrong. And you recognized it the second you looked down. Jellybean wasn't in your arms. On on your bed. Or on the floor. Or in the room.

Disaster!

You launched yourself from your bed, tearing into the living room where Daddy and Papa were watching some movie. They both sat bolt upright when you catapulted yourself into the room, shocked that you were up.

"Baby, what's wrong??" Steve asked, his eyes wide with alarm. Bucky's eyes darted around the room, instantly on the alert for danger.

"JELLYBEAN!!!" was all you could wail before crumpling onto the floor in a heap, sobbing. You felt strong arms pick you up and cradle you, and a set of fingers combing through your hair.

"Sshh, sshh, it's okay Babygirl," Bucky whispered, trying to calm you down.

"NOT OKAY!! Jellybean is GONE!!" you cried into Bucky's teeshirt.

"Oh, honey, she's not gone, she's just taking a little bath right now."

Your tears instantly stopped at Papa's words. You twisted your head to look at him. "She takin' a baf?" you asked, trying to make it all make sense. Papa nodded. You whipped around back to Bucky, and began pushing against his chest. "Down!!"

"Now, hold on a minute, Trouble..."

"DOWN!!"

"Hey, I know you're upset, but-"

"DOWNDOWNDOWNDOWNDOWN!!!!!!!!!"

Completely shocked at his normally well-behaved little girl's tantrum, Bucky's only working instinct was to give you what you wanted. He set you down quickly and you took off for the bathroom. They exchanged a quick look of panic before following you. Just as they were getting to the bathroom door, you nearly barreled them over tearing out of the room towards the other bathroom. They tried calling after you, but you were on a mission and NOTHING was going to stop you.

"I've never seen her freak out like this before," Bucky muttered to Steve while they followed your frantic footsteps.

"I know," Steve whispered back, his anxiety going through the roof. "I had no idea she was going to take it this way. What do we do?"

"Hell if I know." They both stopped talking as you threw yourself back into the hallway, skidding to a halt right in front of them, your eyes crazed.

"She not in the bafroom!!" you shrieked in an accusatory tone. "You said she was takin' a baf!" Before they could even inhale to try to answer you, a brilliant idea came to you. "She YITTLE! She take baf in da sink!!" And you were running like your feet were on fire to the kitchen sink. You looked- and she wasn't there either.

Bucky and Steve caught up to you as you were pacing, thinking so hard you looked like you were trying to solve world hunger. "She can't take baf in dishwasher or washin' machine- she dwown in dere..." you mused to yourself. You didn't see the look of pure horror that Steve and Bucky exchanged. If you realized that they put your precious bunny in the washing machine and drowned her, you would have a major meltdown, or worse- never forgive them. Their attentions jerked back to you as you stopped pacing.

"She been kidnapped!!" you gasped in horror, coming to the only logical conclusion left to you.

"Oh, baby, she's not-"

"JARVIS!!!" you screamed at the top of your lungs to the AI, making Steve and Bucky wince. "NEED TO TALK TO EVERYONE, NOW!!"

"As you wish, Princess."

"No, no, JARVIS, you don't need to-"

"A direct line to the team is open, Princess."

You took the biggest breath you could, and screamed with all your might.

"AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!!!!!!!!!!"

Steve and Bucky just stood there frozen in shock, jaws on the floor, dumbfounded at your battle cry. They couldn't even find the words to respond.

The silence didn't last for long.

Suddenly, an almighty crash shook the entire apartment. Steve dove for you, his protective instinct taking over, as Bucky jumped in front of both of you. Before you even realized what really happened, you heard loud footsteps thundering down the hallway.

"NONE SHALL SURVIVE THAT HAVE CAUSED HARM TO THIS FAMILY!" Thor roared, dressed in full battle gear, charging into the living room, breathing hard and wielding Mjolnir. He whipped his head around, hammer raised, surveying the territory. When he only found Steve and Bucky frozen in shock and confusion with you desperately squirming to get out of Steve's arms, he lowered his hammer and joined in the looks of confusion. "I...think I may have acted in earnest," he said sheepishly.

"NO!" you wailed, thrashing with all your might. "I need you Unca Thor!! Jellybean been KIDNAPPED!!!"

"Jelly...bean? Someone has taken your colorful sugar candies that are shaped like kidneys?"

"No, Jellybean is my bunny!! She my best friend in da whole world and she GONE!!" you yelled as you wildly twisted in Steve's arms. He finally unlocked his frozen limbs and set you down, and you immediately made a mad dash right for Thor. "We gotta find her!!!"

Thor's confused gaze slowly flicked up to Steve and Bucky. They both frantically pantomimed that the bunny was in the washing machine. Thor nodded in relieved understanding, before smiling down on you. "Not to worry, young one, it seems as though your Jellybean is-"

He suddenly cut himself off when Steve and Bucky wildly shook their heads for him to stop, then silently indicated that you would lose your mind if you knew. Thor stared at them so long with such confusion that you turned around to see what was going on. Bucky immediately started staring around the room, the walls suddenly the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, while Steve gave you one of his hearty Captain America everything-is-fine salutes. You looked at them curiously, but then turned your attention back to Thor. Bucky and Steve frantically resumed their charades, finally making Thor understand that under no circumstances should you be informed of where Jellybean actually was.

"Jellybean is what, Unca Thor?" you asked desperately.

"...Jellybean has...definitely been kidnapped," he finished lamely, unable to come up with another excuse on the fly as Steve facepalmed and Bucky inaudibly groaned. "But I'm sure she'll be returned in...an hour or so?"

Before you could question that, Tony came charging into the room. "Squirt, what's the problem?" he said in a rush, locking eyes with you a split second before taking in the rest of the room and the three other dumbfounded men. His eyebrows constricted as he tried to make sense of the scene. You quickly explained the horrors of your missing bunny, and his eyebrows slowly crept into his hairline as you tripped over your words in your distress. After another round of charades behind your back, Tony was up to speed. He stood up straight, trying to think his way around this one, but only came up with one thing.

"I assume that's why there's a Thor-sized hole in the wall where your front door used to be?" he asked Steve, who turned to Thor in exasperation.

"I was in earnest," Thor explained, shrugging. You stomped your feet, frustrated.

"Unca Tony, we gotta get Jellybean back! I need the 'Vengers to help me!" you pleaded.

"Uhhhh...okay squirt, it's okay," he said, thinking about how Peter would react if his favorite toy went missing. "Why don't we...make sure that she's not in the apartment first? Huh? That's a good idea, right? Of course it is, let's go."

"No, I already look everywhere! She not here!!" you insisted before charging over to him, and holding your arms up. He instantly picked you up, assuming that you wanted comfort, but instead you started pushing on his chest.

"Whatcha doing, honey?" he asked, confused and curious.

"Where's your button that makes your suit go on??" you grumbled as you punched all over his chest. "I KNOW it here somewhere." He would have snickered had you not clearly been so upset.

"I don't think I'm going to need my suit here, kiddo." He nodded sanctimoniously when you gasped in agreement.

"You right! You need money!" He stopped nodding. "In case da kidnappers want me to pay for Jellybean! Can I have a million dollars?"

Tony slow burn glared at Steve. "What the hell are you two letting her watch?" he muttered as they stared at you, once again shocked. You shook your head.

"No, Unca Tony! 'Member you said to Unca Bruce dat you wouldn't pay kidnappers after Pietro broke your record thingy. But dis different. I need a million dollars please." It was Bucky and Steve's turn to glare at Tony, who turned a deep red and set you down quickly.

"Moving right along," he said after clearing his throat. That's when Natasha and Clint came strolling in. Natasha looked around at all the craziness calmly.

"So. What seems to be the trouble here?" she asked you kindly, but the rest of the team could see the hints of the smirk on her lips.

"Aunt Nat, Jellybean is gone!" you wailed, running over to her. "She been kidnapped and I can't find her and the 'Vengers gotta find her please!"

Natasha leaned down just a bit and smoothed your hair away from your face. "Hold on there, honey bunny," she said in her calmest voice. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?" You nodded tearfully, but did as she asked. "Good girl," she praised soothingly. "Tell you what. Can Uncle Clint get you some juice while I talk to your daddies for a minute?"

"But...but we gotta find Jellybean!" you said, your breath catching as you started to get worked up again. "Gotta find her, please!!"

"And we will, I promise," she said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "But I think I need to get some information before we start looking, okay? Can you be a big girl and let Uncle Clint get you some juice please? Then we'll find her, I promise," After another moment and another big breath, you nodded.

"Atta girl," Clint said, scooping you up and taking you to the kitchen. You tearfully explained the whole saga to him while he sat you down on the kitchen island and poured you a sippy cup full of apple juice, nodding seriously as you explained everything. He knew all too well the intense emotions that came with regression, especially when it came to favorite stuffies, and how important it was for caregivers to take your feelings seriously. He was also trying to distract you from the hisses and the whispers of the violent verbal battle happening in the living room behind you.

Your head whipped around when you heard Bucky hiss loudly "Natasha, NO," as Aunt Natasha walked briskly into the kitchen. She gently nudged Clint out of the way and stood in front of you.

"We go find Jellybean now?" you asked her hopefully, your sippy cup still clutched in your hands.

"Jellybean is just fine, sweetheart," she said reassuringly. Your eyes became as round as saucers as you took in her meaning.

"You know where Jellybean is?!" you shrieked, before attempting to launch yourself off the island. Aunt Nat was just as quick as Papa was when you were trying to escape bedtime. She popped you onto her hip and started walking towards the laundry room with 4 anxious and confused men and one snickering one in tow.

"I do know where she is, and she's perfectly okay," Natasha said gently, bouncing you a bit. "I'm going to take you to see her."

"Natasha, don't," Steve said, his teeth gritted, his tone between a command and a plea. You looked over her shoulder at your daddies who appeared to be sweating bullets, but you didn't understand why.

Natasha completely ignored them and marched right into the laundry room, you still firmly on her hip. She pointed to the spinning laundry behind the front loader's door. "Jellybean is right there, baby. She's taking a bath, just like your daddies said she was."

Your eyes filled with tears. "But...but she...what if she dwown?" you asked fearfully, looking at Natasha with large, pleading, watery eyes as the rest of the team, crowded in the doorway, all held their breath in fear.

Natasha brushed your hair away from your eyes again and rubbed her nose against yours. "She won't drown, sweetheart. This is how furry friends take baths. They're special like that. They can breathe just fine in the washing machine, and then after they dry they smell so nice and fresh and clean- just like you do after you take your bath!" Steve and Bucky felt their blood turn to ice in terror, waiting for what they were sure was going to be another meltdown from you.

"Jellybean okay?" you asked again, your eyes darting to the window and back to hers.

"Jellybean is okay, I promise. You wanna see?" Natasha put you down and knelt in front of the window. "It's okay, I promise. Come look," she encouraged. You carefully sat down on the floor next to her, still not sure about this. You suddenly saw hint of soft grey fur slide past the window- that was her!!

You slapped your little hands on the window, desperate for another look at your bunny. "Aunt Nat, you SURE she's okay?" you asked again.

"Very sure. In fact, Buttons took a bath just like this a couple days ago, and Wanda had her yesterday, remember?" Natasha said. "Same thing will happen with Jellybean. She'll be just fine." You thought about it- Wanda did have Buttons the Bear with her last night! And she had been okay!

"Oh. Okay den," you said, suddenly calm as could be. You plopped back down on your butt, scootching backwards to lean up against the wall. "I wait here for her baf to be done. Tank you, Aunt Nat!" You casually sipped on your juice as Steve and Bucky's jaws hit the floor again. How the hell were you so calm now, when five seconds ago you were all headed for World War Three?!

Natasha chuckled and gave you a kiss on the top of your head before turning around and walking out of the room. All the men crowded in the doorway parted to let her pass, except Clint, who had collapsed against the wall, silently laughing at the others' dumbfounded expressions. Natasha turned back to them.

Bucky hates these meetings.

When he took over the organization, he didn't think there'd be so many pleasantries involved. 

While he knows some degree of diplomacy is required, he expected a lot less talking and a lot more killing. That at least, he can't mess up. It is second nature, after all. When the handle of a blade fills his palm, he truly feels home. 

But this… 

It makes the killer in him antsy, restless. What he'd trade for a good, old-fashioned hunt. A worthy chase. He misses it, the thrill that coursed through him whenever he cornered a target. The fear shining in their eyes, the realization there would be no tomorrow…

The prospect makes his blood sing. 

He listens intently to Danny’s report, twirling the glass of brown liquor in his hand. 

"We found out who the mole was." Bucky perks up, his attention fully drawn. Each of his men does the same, their faces tight. The sting of betrayal permeates the air, clogging the room even more than the lingering clouds of smoke. There’s been a rat in their ranks for too long. He's been feeding information to the FBI for weeks, ruining deliveries, delaying shipments. 

Bucky’s mouth twists in contempt as pictures are tossed on the low wooden table brimming with manila folders and half-empty glasses of alcohol.

He takes in the face of the traitor. 

Rumlow. He knows he should have erased every trace of the old organization, but the bastard did good work and never asked too many questions. Turns out it’s because he was too busy running his damn mouth.

"What should we do about it, boss?" Danny asks. 

"Bring him to me. I’ll deal with him myself," he replies without hesitation, emptying his glass to its dregs before clenching his jaw. 

But the unhinged train of Bucky’s murderous thoughts is halted when his gaze lifts to one of his henchman, Leo, humming loud enough for him to hear.

"What are you doing?"

The boy freezes. Dark crumbs line his mouth as he looks at his boss with wide eyes.

A nervous stutter spills from his mouth.

"Just…eating a brownie, sir."

Bucky squints at Leo, a deep scowl scrunching his features.

He slaps the brownie out of the boy’s hand who watches it fall to the floor with a dejected expression.

"Eating a brownie, huh? What do you think this is? The neighborhood bake sale?"

Another subtle moan rises to his left and Bucky’s gaze narrows to yet another one of his henchmen indulging in the sweet delights. 

His voice trembles as he points at the plate of brownies.

"They are really good, sir. You should try one."

"I should-" 

Bucky scoffs, disbelief fluttering through him as he notices how many of the brownies have already been eaten. 

"Whatever. I swear to god if you don’t s-"

The mobster’s irate rant is halted when a brownie is shoved into his mouth by a henchman. Bucky frowns at the audacity, ready to end the meeting and commit murder on the spot, but…then the taste melts on his tongue, sweet and subtle. Heavenly. The scowl on his face eases as anger dissipates. 

"Who baked these?"

"The new chef, sir."

His frown returns. 

"New chef? What happened to the old chef?"

"He was…disposed of when we realized he was lacing the food with poison."

"Disposed of?"

The henchman who spoke shifts awkwardly in his chair.

"You slit his throat, sir."

Bucky nods as slow remembrance sneaks inside his mind. He’s not sure how that memory escaped him. The man screamed a lot. It left quite an impression.

"Right, I forgot that."

The meeting resumes but Bucky’s mind is elsewhere. It’s not often he’s comforted by something as trivial as baked goods. This is uncanny; he needs to inquire more about this new chef.

Their intentions should be gauged anyway. Who knows? Maybe they too, will need their throat slit. 

He’d never slit your throat. Bucky’s sure of that. 

When the mob boss entered the kitchen, his intentions were clear. Interrogate or intimidate, most likely both. But when he gets a glimpse of your angelic face, wrinkled in focus while you cover a cake in chocolate frosting, Bucky feels like he’s being stabbed right through the heart. Over and over again. He could have collapsed right here and then. 

And when you lift your head to smile at him - the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen - Bucky knows he’s fucking lost. 

Instantly, he knows, he needs to have you, no matter what it takes.