The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Twenty-one

Steve drives around to the back entrance to Odinson's Customs and Repairs, waiting patiently for the garage door to open, with his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. On the surface, the place looks like any number of auto repair shops. And the Odinson brothers did occasionally take legit business. Just for the appearance of the thing.

But what the brothers specialized in was one hundred percent lodged in the underworld. They worked much like mercenaries, as long as you paid them they were willing to do anything you would need them to do; fix any problem or find anything you needed them to find. They cost an arm and a leg, but between their skills and discretion, they were worth every penny.

After a short wait, several green laser lights light up before narrowing to a single line that passes over the vehicle; back-to-front and side-to-side. A short sharp beep sounds, the light above the garage door turns green and it opens. Driving into the shop, Steve and Sam wait for the garage door to shut before they climb out of the car.

The shop is in gloom, the shadows thick beyond the little halo of light the car was in. They wait, both well used to the theatrics of the brothers. From within the gloom a man appears. He's wearing black on black on black. Black suit tailored to cling to his lithe form, black silk shirt, and black tie. Coupled with his pale skin, glossy black hair, and sharp green eyes, Loki Odinson strikes a figure that oozes danger.

Which is appropriate considering he has a body count that is in the thousands.

"Where's Thor?" Steve asks, glancing around as if the man will appear as his brother did.

"In the basement," Loki answers, voice as silky as his shirt.

Turning, he disappears back into the gloom, Steve and Sam following behind. Through a door hidden within a wall of tools and down a long flight of stairs, the three men walk. Compared to the shop above, the basement is a labyrinth of rooms. As they walk down a hall, lights trigger on and then off as they approach and pass under.

Stopping at a door that is as nondescript as the rest that line the hall, Loki places his palm on a blank screen where a normal door handle would be. A short beep and the door opens into the room on silent hinges. Loki gestures the two of them through it.

Thor Odinson stands to one side, legs spread in a wide stance and arms crossed over his wide chest. Even taller than his brother, Thor wears his blond hair and beard braided and twisted with strings and beads. Tattoos cover nearly every inch of his body save for his neck, face, and hands. And he always seems to embody the Viking aesthetic.

Acknowledging the large man with a nod, Steve focuses his attention on the chair in the middle of the room, and the man slumped in it.

"Where'd you end up finding him?" Sam asks, when he realizes that Steve isn't.

"In one of Walker's brothels." Thor's voice is as much of a contrast to his brother as the rest of him. A deep bass that seems to rumble out of his chest like a rockslide down the side of a mountain.

"Jesus," Sam mutters. "You'd think he'd have a bit more class than that shit."

John Walker was like the ring of scum you find when you open a garbage disposal. The worst of the worst, completely lacking in all and any morals, the man's specialty was human trafficking. Mostly young women and children. There were whispers that he often had a policy of "the younger the better".

Steve rolls his neck and shoulders, loosening himself up before he pulls his suit jacket off and sets it neatly over a metal stool, then he loosens his tie and sets that on top of the jacket.

"How'd you knock him out?"

"Physically."

"Good," Steve acknowledges, stepping forward and breaking the smelling salts under the man's nose.