#oh to be in a bucky and zemo sandwich

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🌕 Blood Moon: Chapter Three

Blood Moon: You have been defying nature, and perhaps, even the Gods. After returning to life because of Tony Stark’s sacrifice, all humans now have a designation: alpha, beta, or omega. Angry at the fate you’ve been given, you decide that you will do anything to ensure that your fate is in your own hands. You’ll soon find out that it is never a good idea to tamper with fate, especially when one man makes it his mission to ensure that you understand that you can try to out-fly your destiny, but fate will eventually catch up to you.

Warnings: Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Zemo Get’s Frisky With Reader, Your Age Pre-Set for Plotline.

To Note: A/B/O Universe Post Snap, Zemo x Female!Reader, Timeline Of Events Is More Spread Out (Weeks Rather Than Days) To Fit Plot Line.

Word Count: ~4.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Saying Sam and Bucky are upset was an understatement. You thought Bucky was going to flat out fall back in a faint when you had followed Zemo down the airplane steps. Sam was probably going to need to go on high blood pressure medication soon.

“No, no way are we letting Diana walk around Madripoor wearing that, especially when we know this place is dirty! She smells like a freaking omega!!” Sam erupted while you ignored him and continued walking.

“Do you want to get the lead, or play big brother Sam?” You called over your shoulder, waiting for the three of them to catch up to you. “Because I don’t have all night and I would like a drink.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue more, but didn’t. He let out a huff of frustration and started walking over as Bucky broodily stared you down.

“Oh please, stop acting like this is the first time you’ve seen me in a dress,” You snapped out as Zemo walked up to you and placed a hand on your back.

“I am sure James and Sam will get used to the idea, Liebling.” He told you as the four of you started walking. He then called to the two sulking men. “I would not send Diana into a place such as the Princess Bar without some sort of protection.”

“Like what? Her as your side piece?” That was just petty, Sam.

“If you haven’t noticed the giant rocks around my neck, Sam, all who fix their greedy little eyes upon me will know that I am taken, presumably by Zemo, since he is royalty and neither of you could afford this necklace. I am untouchable unless they have a death wish.”

“Yeah, you do know you might have you act submissive, right?” Sam fired back while you rolled your eyes. “You smell like the most delicious omega on the planet. You are gonna have to act like you’re one.”

“I am prepared to do what I need to do to ensure that our plan works. Now, who are you supposed to be again?”

“He’ll if I know,” Sam grumbled before looking down at his outfit. “We gotta to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo told Sam as he passed a phone over. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam commented. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“Then you already have something going for you.” You commented, shooting Sam a look.

“You smell this?” Zemo questioned as a car appeared on the far edge bridge. It continued to drive towards us.

“Besides Diana? Yeah, what is that? Acid?”

“Madripoor.” Zemo corrected while the car stopped. Doors were opened, and you slipped to the middle of the back seat. ”No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam said as he and Bucky sandwiched you in.

“Most definitely not,” You spoke quietly as Zemo slipped into the passenger’s seat and the car started moving once more.

The entire time you walked through Madripoor, Zemo kept you glued to his side as he walked confidently through the misty streets, Sam and Bucky bringing up the rear.

While they stayed in character as needed, you knew their minds had to be going a million miles an hour as their eyes watched everything that moved. Understandable. When you had exited the car, all eyes turned to you as you moved through the neon streets. You had to admit something; you didn’t see how any of the three alphas wore as much layers as they currently did, seeing how it was a current balmy 80 degrees out. Perfect for someone like you wearing this scandalous outfit, but them? They had to be hot.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that the moment you had entered society and the scent of an omega started circulating, heads were snapping around and other alphas were coming sniffing. Time to show everyone that you are really off limits. Dropping your shoulders, you stretched your neck out to accentuate the multitude of gemstones clinging to the column of your throat and put on your best ‘innocent yet absolutely smitten with the alpha at my side’ look you could muster.

Your subtle extra tactic worked wonders as jealousy flamed in the eyes of every alpha in the vicinity. It really didn’t take much to make an alpha jealous. One simply had to flaunt something that another desperately wanted, and in this new world, it was you.

“They’re all looking at her like she’s the prime tenderloin in a case of ground chuck,” Sam grumbled underneath his breath.

“They know what they do not have,” Zemo coolly responded before taking the initiative. His gloved hand slid across your back and settled on the open portion of your side, snugly tucking you into his side in a display of possession.

Your nose picked up the subtle hints of rage coming from the two men behind you.

“Knock it off you idiots, do not ruin this.” You hissed under your breath. That burst of rage melted to a simmer but didn’t disappear completely.

“Consider this. Do you want Diana to remain safe?” Zemo questioned them as you neared the Princess Bar. “Because the only way to guarantee it, is if everyone knows she is mine.”

“This does not mean we have to like it.” Sam growled.

“No one said you had to,” You huffed as you reached the doors to the bar. You turned your head. “This is life or death. Control your alphas or I will do it for you!”

“Come now, Liebling maus, I am sure they understand.” Zemo purred at your side as he took your right hand and directed you into the bar. “No one here wants to ruin your night.”

You let out a haughty sniff and allowed yourself to be appeased by his words. It was all too easy to fall into the submissive roll.

“Готов подчиниться, зимний солдат?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?) You were now in the thick of Madripoor’s underground, and one minor mistake could cost you everything, including your lives. You only hoped that Bucky and Sam could control themselves if you had to go as far as act like the designation you was pretending to be. “Shall we get you a drink, Liebling?”

You let out a purr in the back of your throat while Zemo weaved you through the crowd. Lucky for you, the bar wasn’t too packed at the moment and you found a place to stand by near the bartender. Zemo, carrying on his act, pulled out a bar chair and helped you into it.

“Hello, gentlemen, miss.” The bartender greeted, his eyes flickering to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo offered in explanation. “Would you kindly make a side car for my omega?”

The bar tender jerked his chin in acknowledgment before looking to Sam.

“The usual?” Sam gave him a firm nod, and the bartender immediately got started on making your drinks. Tucking you heels underneath the bar stool, you curled your fingers around Zemo’s which still held yours, and drew it up to your cheek where you pressed his palm against your skin.

That tremor beneath your skin was back, clawing at you from the inside out. Alongside it came a flushed feeling that left your skin hot and needing the touch of an alpha.

You cursed at yourself and resisted the urge to shove Zemo away from you and get as far from the mysterious man as you could. Whatever was going on with you was going to have to wait until you were in a safe environment to explore the causes. Preferably your lab. Until then, you would have to accept what was happening.

At least he was wearing a glove. You didn’t know how you would react if it was his bare skin touching you… that was it. It had to be OS-336! Perhaps you had gotten your dosage wrong after all and your true designation was somehow creeping through the cracks of your chemical formula. You would give yourself an extra boost in dosage when this was over then, but at the moment, these embarrassing and unwanted side effects of your true designation were working in your favor.

Letting out a pleased sigh, you rubbed your cheek against the smooth leather glove as you stared down the bartender who was putting together your drink. You hoped you looked like a smug omega who knew exactly who she belonged to; it was how an omega of Baron Helmut Zemo would act.

“Enjoy,” the bartender said as he placed the martini glass down in front of you with an orange twist perched on the edge. Your eyes took in the drink before you slowly shifted them to Zemo, whose lips quirked as he gently stroked the side of your face.

“Drink, Liebling, you’ve more than earned it after patiently waiting by my side.” Letting him slip his fingers from you, you turned back to the drink and pulled it to you by the stem of the glass. While you were raising it to your lips, the bartender was pulling a snake from a jar. As the citrus drink slipped down your throat, your eyebrow popped up when the snake ended up getting gutted and an organ placed in a shot. “Ah. Smiling Tiger, your favorite.”

Oh poor Sam, either the bartender was bullshitting you, or the Smiling Tiger had some weird tastes. Sam picked up the glass and held it up.

“I love these.” He said with zero ounce of happiness. Zemo then picked up a shot glass of his own and clicked it against Sam’s.

“Cheers, Conrad.” Zemo said before shooting back his shot. Sam looked like he was going to be sick, but actually shot back his drink. With that little display over, you focused your energy back on your drink. Since Zemo had explicitly said drink it, any omega would take that as a ‘I will drink this until it’s gone or my alpha says stop’. So you guess you might end up buzzed tonight. Oh well.

You took another swallow of your drink and briefly shut your glittering eyelids. This club reeked of alphas, omegas, and betas alike, but you could only focus on one thing. Zemo.

Someone came up from behind you.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky in threat.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished his threat. The man sulked off.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky spoke lowly and unimpressed.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam queried.

“Only by reputation.” Zemo admitted. He turned back to the bar. “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner. Зимний солдат,” (Winter soldier) Your eyes widened when a hand landed on Zemo’s shoulder. “Вперед, чтобы атаковать.” (Forward to attack.)

Your Russian was rudimentary at best, but judging by the blank look on Bucky’s face, and his robotic movements that proceeded, you knew that whatever Zemo had said probably meant something along the lines of attack. Bucky grabbed the hand attached to Zemo’s shoulder and walked the man back away from you as he grunted in pain. From there, he kicked the man’s legs out and slammed his vibranium fist into his shoulder.

More men ran up to Bucky, and with a few quick punches to their stomach and one hearty kick, he sent them all flying back into each other. From the looks of things, men were going to continue to attack despite the four already down men.

“Didn’t expect this to happen,” You murmured in surprise, keeping your back to the fight. “But at least I’m not bored anymore.”

The bartender walked over to the nearest phone and made a call. You tossed back the rest of your drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol which actually loosened the tension you were feeling.

There were more sounds of men grunting and being thrown around, and even glass shattering. Had they really thought it was a good idea to take on the Winter Soldier?

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented right before Bucky slammed a man onto the bar top next to you, holding him there by the neck. You glanced down at the man’s bulging eyes. Guns were cocked. The show was over for you, it seemed. Zemo placed a hand on Bucky. “Stay in character or the entire bar turns on us. Отлично, солдат.” (Great, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender announced. Bucky dragged the man he had pinned from the bar top and let him flop to the floor. You peeked at the ground. He was out cold.

“Thank you.” Zemo offered his hand to you, so spinning in your seat, you effortlessly scooted off the stool and dropped to your heels. You started walking through the bar, and to the back area where Selby could be found. There were CCTV’s everywhere, people at tables counting mountains of currency, and plenty of guns flashing about.

Entering a larger room, you spotted two sofas, one of which was occupied by a short-haired woman. Selby. She drummed her fingers on the back of the couch where she lounged.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo responded, tugging you with him to the empty couch and sitting down, tucking you next to him. Your eyes started into Selby’s. She was a beta, but a pretty dominant one by the way she smelled. No wonder she ran things around here.

“A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” She didn’t pull any of her punches. You could respect that.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo questioned while running his fingers along your black covered thigh. He reached your bare knee and curled his leather covered fingers around it, drawing his individual fingers across your skin. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby ignored Zemo’s words for a moment and looked at Sam.

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” She purred at him while curling her fingernails. “What’s the offer?”

Zemo gracefully rose from the couch, leaving you lounging on it.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” He said, walking over to Bucky. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby chimed with a small chuckle. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right… but I’m forgetting something. Who is this? She’s quite a beauty, not to mention I could smell that delicious scent of hers before I even set my eyes on that gorgeous body.”

Selby looked at you like she wanted to eat you up. At least Zemo looked unperturbed by the question and was instantly replying.

“My omega, being in prison gets lonely as you can imagine,” Zemo said before walking behind the couch. Twisting your head, you looked up at him with adoration and reverence a smitten omega would have. “I like to have someone to go home too, someone I can dote on.”

You might have believed his words with the way he was staring so deeply into your eyes had this not been an act. His hand reached up and grasped your hair, pulling your head back to expose the necklace to the lights, and your throat to him. Zemo then bent down and ever so slowly brushed his nose along the curve of your neck, taking in your natural scent that clung to you beneath the omega perfume.

Your eyes shut and all you could concentrate on was the nose pressed to your skin and the lips that shot electricity and need straight to your core. Never had you been so taken with a sensation that made your skin burn. You couldn’t help the soft purr that left your barely parted lips. That had your eyes flickering open wide in shock, and that was the moment Zemo reached your chin.

Zemo place a kiss dangerously close to your lips before pulling away. He had that smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“There is nothing like having a soft, warm omega waiting for you.” Zemo finished. You were sure at this point Bucky or Sam, or maybe both of them, would have shot Zemo the second he put his hands on you. The only thing saving him was that you were smack dab in the middle of a bar, surrounded by people who would turn on you in a second if ordered. Zemo released your hair and walked back around the couch to sit down next to you once more.

“It’s a shame you don’t share,” Selby sighed out. So she played both fields, interesting… “The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby stood up and started walking around the room. “And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

So you were going to have to really haggle an answer out of her, so be it. Unfortunately, you seemed to have the worst luck in the world because Sam’s phone started buzzing. Your hands curled into fists in your lap while you struggled to keep a normal outward appearance.

“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby demanded. With tension thick in the room, Sam accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” Shit. It was Sarah, Sam’s sister.

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?”

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” Sarah snapped back.

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.” This was going to blow up in your faces. You just knew it. Selby started prowling around Bucky, and before you could dig your fingernails so hard into your palm, you cut them, a leather glove was tugging your hand from its clenched position. Subtly looking at Zemo, you saw he had his eyes trained on Sam.

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” The Wilson sass and attitude was going to bite you in the ass one day.

“The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much money…” Sam let out a small laugh. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam huffed out.

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.” My eyes closed at the realization that this had just turned into a shit storm.

“‘Sam’? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby called. Before the guards in the room could fire, a bullet flew through the window and nailed Selby in the head. She was dead before she hit the floor.

Sporadic gun fire started up, and you were yanked from your seat by the Baron faster than you could comprehend as Sam and Bucky quickly took care of Selby’s men.

“This is a big problem,” You said while you were led to the exit, Zemo’s hand still firmly attached to yours.

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam echoed in agreement. Zemo sighed.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” You exited the bar as fast as you could, and while you did so, cell phones began to chime with text messages.

“This is not good.” Zemo muttered seconds before the lights over head cut out, and gunfire erupted over your heads. All four of you ducked down and then split. While Sam and Bucky darted forwards, you were left to split with Zemo since he still had a hold of your hand, and seemed determined not to let it go.

It wasn’t easy running in these heels, especially since you didn’t wear them daily and weren’t used to walking in them. At least Zemo seemed to know where he was going because he dragged you into a small alcove between two buildings, briefly hiding you from our pursuers. Of course, it also meant that you were tucked neatly up against him and subjected to both his closeness and his natural scent. You waited for a few moments after your pursuers continued on past before stepping out from hiding.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a high speed get away and these heels are not made for running.” You said quietly. Zemo glanced down at your feet before making a face and nodding his chin at your feet.

“I will buy you another pair.” Not needing further explanation, you quickly unstrapped your feet from the pretty heels and ditched them in the alleyway. “We need to find Sam and James. They can’t have gone far.”

“You know this area better than I do.” You answered with a shrug.

“Indeed, I do, follow me.” You started walking, and you were reminded just who exactly Zemo was before the whole Sokovia Accords debacle. He was a trained military man from a special forces unit. You shouldn’t forget that. Weaving around buildings and sliding along back alleys, you eventually emerged to see Sam and Bucky about to be cornered by some men on motorcycles. But rather than get into another fight, someone from the nearby building shot and killed the men.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo said as he merged from the shadows, you on his tail.

“Well, this is too perfect.” Your eyebrows popped up at the voice and turning around, you saw Sharon Carter. “Drop it, Zemo.”

Zemo was rather compliant and placed the gun he stole on the ground.

“Sharon?” Bucky asked in confusion as Sam stepped forward.

“You cost me everything.” Sharon hissed, kicking the gun away.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam explained, stepping forward and getting in front of Bucky and Zemo.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead. ”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She snapped out before motioning with her gun. “I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass, from his ass. Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke at me. I was on the run, too.” Sam shot back.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” You felt somewhat guilty over that, even though you had nothing to do with Sharon’s decision to help Sam and Steve. Sharon fixated her eyes on you, so you gave her a small wave and meek smile.

“Hi, Sharon.”

“And what the hell are you bringing Diana into a place like this? You know what happened to her. She’s just a kid!”

“I’m actually almost thirty,” You pointed out.

“Because if anyone is going to figure out if the serum we find is real, it’s Diana… and she’s not a teenager anymore.”

“Yeah, you still look barely over twenty,” Sharon huffed at you. You rolled your eyes.

“You can thank the blip for that.”

“Listen... Sharon, we need your help.” Bucky pleaded and Sharon just chuckled at him. “Please.”

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.”

Date Published: 7/10/22

Last Edit: 7/10/22

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron zemo

[forever-rogue]

could you do a blurb in fatws where bucky and the reader have feelings for each other and zemo is trying to flirt with the reader?

Warnings: use of pet name [bunny], mention of toys, references to sex, possessive!Bucky, language, minors dni

A/N: Yuh, I would love to have Bucky and Zemo fight over me so here we are 😇

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked at Bucky’s back, biting your lip as you contemplated your next actions. You know what Zemo was trying to do; his half-masked attempts at flirting were not exactly subtle. And for some reason...you weren’t totally abhorred by the thought of Helmut Zemo making a move on you. He was handsome, that was easy to see, and it had been a while since you’ve had...anyone. Quite frankly your hand and toys weren’t cutting it anymore.

It wasn’t like you could wait for Bucky for forever. At some point you’d have to accept that either he didn’t feel the same way or he just wasn’t ever going to make a move. Over the past year your little back and forth with him continued to grow but it never amounted to anything besides a lingering touch here and there or longing looks thrown in the other’s direction when you thought they weren’t looking, and very flirtatious banter. But still...you could make a move on your own, but you were too stubborn - just like him.

Maybe Zemo wasn’t a bad choice after all. He’d been more friendly lately, making his desire for you known to everyone. In some ways it was a little bold and exhilarating; to have someone be this brazen in their desire for you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the possibility of having him.

“Tell me,” you accepted the drink he slid across the island at you, leaning over on your elbows so he could see down the front of your loose shirt. It wasn’t a subtle move, but at this point it didn’t matter, “when’s the last time you’ve been with anyone, Baron?”

Zemo almost looked startled by your question - almost. He kept his cool and took a long drag of his drink, finishing it off and setting it back down on the cool granite. The corners of his lips pulled into a wolfish smile as he studied you for a moment. You put on your best poker face as you tried not to let any of the cracks show, “it has been a while. Why little bunny? What’s got you so interested?”

“You look like you know how to touch a woman,” you threw back the rest of your drink, hoping it would work like liquid courage. Despite not being particularly loud, you could sense that Bucky heard you across the apartment, seeing his head turn slightly from the corner of your eye. This was a dangerous game indeed, and yet you were thrilled with it, “like you know just how to give me what I need.”

“Have you ever been with a man?” he asked suddenly as a tingle spread throughout your body. He took a step closer, slowly making his way over to you, “or have they all been boys?”

“Umm,” you were speechless as he leaned over and put his hand on your face, slowly stroking his thumb over your cheek. Your lips parted as you looked at him like a deer in headlights. He was close enough to where you could smell his aftershave and count every little freckle. He really was handsome, “n-no.”

“Are you scared little bunny?” he leaned in so his lips were just shy of yours and part of you was screaming to close the gap and kiss him, “you weren’t so shy before. Or are you afraid that you can’t handle it?”

“I-I can handle it,” you gasped as he ghosted his fingers along your jaw and down the column of your throat before lightly putting his whole hand around your throat. He was squeezing ever so slightly, but it was just enough to dizzy you and leave you wanting more, “please.”

While the two of you stared at each other, it was like the world had stopped existing and Bucky wasn’t in the adjacent room. He’d overheard every word, seen every little moment, attempting to compose himself, but it was getting harder with each passing second. You were his, not Zemo’s.

“You have such a smart little mouth,” he said slowly as he licked his lips, “I wonder if you’re able to put it to good use for something other than talking back. Are you going to let me-”

“Get your hands off of her,” the voice was cold as ice as the two of froze and slowly turned to find Bucky standing there, nothing but anger in his eyes. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Zemo removed his hand from your throat and crossed his arms over his chest, “she’s mine.”

“I wasn’t aware she belonged to anyone,” the two men stared at each other intently as you weren’t sure what to do, “I think the little bunny is free to do whatever she wants. Tell James what you want.”

“I…” you stared at the floor for a moment, studying your feet while you felt the two men studying you intently, “I...dunno.”

“Come on little bunny.”

“Umm…” you slowly looked up and then found your eyes wandering over to Bucky. He met yours with a steely gaze that caused a shiver to run down your spine and a tingling in your lower belly, “James.”

Zemo tuttled lightly, a small sound of disappointment as he looked between the two of you. He took a step back and nodded; the Baron was a lot of things, but he wasn’t about to impose or force himself on anyone. As soon as his name had left your lips, you seemed surprised that you’d said anything, a warm flush creeping into your neck and cheeks.

“And so she has made her choice,” Zemo said as he poured himself another drink, unfazed by the whole situation, “if you should ever choose to come to a different conclusion little bunny, do let me know.”

Without another word, he nodded at the two of you before clutching his drink and walking out of the kitchen, humming quietly under his breath. It was almost dead silent as he retreated and closed the door to his bedroom, leaving the two of you to stare silently at each other. Bucky’s gaze was unwavering and intense, and you felt as though you were slowly coming undone in front of him. When the silent became too great, you cleared your throat, ready to scramble away to your own quarters.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm in gentle, but firm grip, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You swallowed thickly as you turned to look back at him with nervous eyes. When you didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow, “I asked you a question: where do you think you’re going?”

“I…” you trailed off as you watched him look at you with hungry, dark eyes, pupils completely blown with lust, “just leaving.”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he practically growled as you left all of that go directly to your already aching cunt, “I meant what I said - you’re mine.”

“I thought you didn’t feel the same,” you were looking at much with such surprised innocence that it was a miracle Bucky didn’t take you then and there, “you never-”

“Guess I jus’ needed that asshole to remind me of how much you mean to me,” he released his grasp on your arm and gently reached up to touch your face. After all this time - you’d never been reading the signs incorrectly at all, “just the idea of him touching you disgusts me.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Buck?” you gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away, a challenging look on your face as you tilted your head to the side, “so far you’ve been all talk.”

Maybe the alcohol was suddenly working as a confidence boost. Normally you would have shied away or let him take full control but today you were feeling...confident. The fact that two grown men had all but fought over you didn’t hurt either.

“You want this?” he licked his lips as his eyes instinctively fell to yours. Of course you wanted this; you’d practically been throwing yourself at him for the last year. You nodded slightly and his smile just grew, stretching from ear to ear, “you better be real sure sweetheart. I won’t be gentle and I won’t be nice. You are mine in every way and you will do what I say. Understood?”

Your jaw was clutched in his hand and his grip was practically bruising. Your whole body was burning with lust and desire, wanting him to use you and mark you up as his, “I’m yours, Bucky. Use me as you please.”

“I’m going to like this,” this was a side you’d never seen before of him and you suddenly wondered why you’d never tapped into it before. Despite his words, you knew he would never truly hurt you, “you’re such a good little bunny, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you sighed, head already empty except for thoughts of him and what you wanted him to do to you, “I’ll be good.”

“Then on your knees,” he insisted as you readily complied, letting your knees hit the cool tile of the floor, “and do as I say.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings!)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @ironicfoxes @cc13723things @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2 @hoodedbirdie @mysweetlittledesire @reallyloudstarlight @vintagepigeon @froggyy06 @fleurydelacoury @veil-of-time @queenbeean @deedepee @kenzieam @luxeavenger @dobbyjen @bbl32 @frickin-bats @caprisunsister @bucks-bunny @starlightcrystalline @jensenswinchester @simonedk @keithseabrook27 @cloverrover @jedi-mando @allforkook @bibliophilewednesday @doozywoozy @drayshadow @milkxxkookies @ironicfoxes @livstilinski @lunaserenade @siriuslyslyslytherin @leyannrae @randomfavtingswall @bbl32 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #zemo #helmut zemo #oh to be in a bucky and zemo sandwich

[itsacryforhelp]

Don’t look at me like that! (Zemo x Reader) Ch 2

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings/Content: Swearing, mentions of violence, slow burn, angst, panic attack, throwing up, some fluff

Summary: You somehow end up joining the Falcon and the Winter Soldier on their mission to capture the super soldiers. Along the way, you meet a charming man named Zemo. As interesting as the man is, you both are wildly different and of course fighting and bickering ensues.

A/N: Ahh this was a lot longer then expected! I wanted Zemo to interact with the reader without him being too out of character. I also hope to delve deeper into each character, so this will be a slow burn. Anyways, thank you so much for the support on the first ch! If you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know!

Masterlist

___________________________________

After a god awful car ride, you found yourself looking up at a luxurious private jet. You turned to Bucky and noticing your confusion, he explained that this jet was in fact the Baron’s. Baron? Your surprise was plastered on your face, almost looking childish which gained the attention of the Baron himself. You heard Zemo chuckle and you quickly turned to look at him. He did that head tilt and you found yourself doing the same in an attempt to poke fun at him. Thinking back, you had no fucking clue why you would make fun of the Baron who you knew could end you in the blink of an eye. Looking at you, he chuckled and told you as well as the two other men to hurry in the jet.

Once in the jet, the falcon who had now introduced himself as Sam and the winter soldier who you now knew as Bucky, began explaining the situation.

“Wait. Zemo is a wanted criminal who brought down the avengers? And you both thought it was a good idea to bring him along?!” You questioned, shocked to learn about the Baron’s history.

Anger was radiating off of Sam as he glared at Bucky. You had come to understand it was Bucky who was responsible for helping Zemo escape and Sam wasn’t all too happy. You felt like shit, but couldn’t help but smile at the way Bucky and Sam fought like little kids. Time passed and you were eventually able to eat something. After awkwardly eating a sandwich, you felt all 3 men stare you down. You figured they were waiting for you to tell your story, and so you did.

“So do you know anything about the serum?” The Baron inquired. Sam quickly reprimanded him saying you had been through enough. You smiled and said it was fine and answered his question.

“Well. I don’t know much like I had told those shitheads who locked me up. I do know Karli though. Hell, I even considered her a friend before she ran away with the serum.” You noticed yourself rambling on so you looked up.

Sam and Bucky looked at each other, not knowing what to say so you once again stepped in. “What if I could help. Join you in this little mission of yours.”

You knew Sam was going to try to politely decline stating you had been through too much so you followed it by saying, “It’s the least I could do. I’ve lost pretty much everything so please just let me do this.”

Sam and Bucky agreed and thanked you while Zemo was sipping his whiskey. A couple hours passed and Sam and Bucky had fallen asleep. It was just you and Zemo stealing quick glances at each other. Suddenly, your face went pale and you eyes widened to the point where Zemo now showed concern over your well-being. You felt like throwing up. Guess it wasn’t a great idea to eat that sandwich huh? You quickly ran to the bathroom and threw up that god forsaken sandwich. It was fucking disgusting, you felt disgusting. You felt pathetic and lost and alone and tired. So so tired. You were bawling your sorry little eyes out as you kneeled over the toilet.

After a couple minutes in the bathroom, you felt a hand reach over you and immediately turned around. It was the baron himself looking down at you. You apologized and felt embarrassed that he had to see you this way. Though you expected him to turn around, sparing what little dignity you had left, he actually asked if he could help. You nodded and so he slowly walked over.

“Here allow me to take your jacket, I can have it cleaned.” He said. You agreed but almost immediately regretted it as you knew it would show the disgusting bruises on your arms and chest. He paused for a second, hand letting go of the jacket before gaining his composure and walking out. A few moments later, he walked in again with a new set of clothes and a med kit.

You wanted to reach out and grab the clothes he offered but you couldn’t move and it fucking annoyed you. How could you have let those two men hurt you the way they did. They were pathetic but here you were deadly afraid that they would come back. Zemo took notice of this and kneeled down.

“They’re gone. We’re no longer in Madripoor and I can assure you none of us will harm you in any way. Is there any food you like? I know you’ve had a hard time keeping anything down especially with that horrible food that has been provided. You just give me a name and I can have it for you. After all, I am far more capable then those two.”

You didn’t look up but you smiled. “Thank you Baron.” He smirked at the mention of his official title and said, “Please call me Helmut.”

“Helmut?” I like it you answered and as if he had a sudden realization he asked. “Oh my. I apologize but I don’t believe we’ve ever asked for your name.” You looked up at him and whispered your name.

Though he often smirked or grinned, his eyes never showed any real emotions. They were empty and full of sadness but in that moment you saw a slight change. A glimmer of hope perhaps? You didn’t have much time to think about this because he soon began talking again.

“Well that’s a beautiful name, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tag list: @mochminnie

#tfatws #sam wilson #fatws bucky #bucky barnes #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #marvel

[fuddlewuddle]

Bucky: doll I thought I was the James of your life 😤🥺 why are you calling other people James (alternatively: James sandwich)

Zemo: I have to call him James, the nickname I have for him isn’t appropriate for when others are around.

Bucky: what’s his nickname?

Zemo: I’ll give you three guesses… it rhymes with his surname.

Bucky: oh….

#thank you for the anon #winterbaron #bucky x zemo #rush #niki lauda #james hunt #zemo #baron zemo #bucky barnes #daniel brühl #sebastian stan #chris hemsworth

[watchingeverysebastianstanfilm]

The Falcon & the Winter Soldier: Episode 4 (2021)

In this installment of Buddy Cop: Marvel Edition, Ayo therapizes Bucky through his codewords, one of which is benign. But if I had to guess, I’d say Bucky was packin’ more like benign and a half. That’s serum life, baby. Also, SebStan says ‘titi,’ Sam says ‘titi,’ Zemo says ‘titi,’ everyone says ‘titi’ way too much.

This episode is balls to the fuckin’ wall, there is so much to unpack here and I think I am officially an MCU zealot now because oh, the fanfic I will write.

We’re gonna skip the scene of Bucky and Ayo’s romantic fireside deprogramming for now, since I will be bringing that up later. Instead, let’s focus on how Ayo is very unimpressed they broke Zemo out, and there is a tense moment where Bucky speaks Wakandan, Ayo calls him White Wolf, and I very much want to be in that sandwich.

They seek out Flag Smashers Queen aka Ginger Terrorist in a weirdly fancy house that has seemingly fallen into disrepair. Zemo sings Baa Baa Black Sheep and lures children in with Turkish delight like a creepy ass Narnia character, then swears them all to secrecy, just like a pedo would. He’s obviously up to no good. Something that is reinforced later when the line ‘the end justifies the means’ is bandied about, so apparently Machievelli is gonna be a running theme.

Unfortunately, Captain American’t shows up and has a tantrum in the middle of the street. He does not want to be patronized. He is also impatient and ruins Sam’s Steve Rogers-esque moment where he gets through to Ginger Terrorist via empathy and compassion. Walker’s interruption causes a whole mess where Zemo smashes almost all of the super soldier serum that Ginger Terrorist drops in her escape - I say almost all, since American’t finds the only remaining one and pops a stiffy over it after giving Zemo possibly the worst concussion of all time since you know vibranium hits different.

But the action isn’t over! Not even close! The Dora Milaje, Wakanda’s sweet-ass warrior squad, are here to collect Zemo, and they also don’t wanna hear Walker’s bullshit. SebStan tussles with Ayo and oh my god I want them to kiss but WAIT - AYO TOOK HIS ARM OFF. AYO TOOK HIS ARM OFF. SHE TOOK. HIS ARM OFF.

(It’s cool, he puts it back on, guys.)

Anyway. Ginger Terrorist calls Sam’s sister to threaten her family, and Falcon is not happy. Things rapidly collapse from here as a rendezvous between the two of them - Ginger Terrorist and Sam - goes wrong, and American’t shows up. And surprise! He took the serum for presumably all the wrong reasons and now his partner, Lamar Hoskins, is dead. So he uses the shield to bludgeon a lesser Flag Smasher to death in a rage, a moment this is for sure gonna go viral. Gross. (The image of the blood on the shield is pretty sick, though.)

Sidenote: “and then we kill Captain America” is a sentence I never thought I’d be relieved to hear but damn if it doesn’t give me a lil thrill.

Sebacting: 191804/10

Bucky sits near a campfire while he cries and he looks up at Ayo with the most desperate, hopeful, disbelieving expression ever, before beginning to weep gently. She is freeing him from the mental prison that is the Winter Soldier. Hair falls in his face. The flickering fire carves flattering hollows in his cheeks. His cheeks are damp. I am damp. It is a scene that is seared into my brain for eternity. “

You are free,” Ayo says, and Bucky holds his hand to his mouth, eyes reddened and glassy, and dares to smile through his tears. Here, my heart explodes. Here, it is Oscar-worthy. Here, I short-circuit and ascend.

Sebstan Presence: 7/10

Too much American’t, not enough Daddy Buck. Gimme more.

Is it worth it? God, so much. Latest ao3 search: ‘punch me in the mouth with your metal arm Bucky’

Final: 9/10 Sebstans 

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #tfatws spoilers #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu #episode recap #review #nonsense #y'all got so mad about my tagging last time #is this better you heathens #xoxo

[statticscribbles]

Could you like post a snippet of one of the requests?

Yeah!I posted a couple of various parts I have worked on so that's why it's under a readmore!

This is from the Zemo/Reader drabble:

”What’s the budget Helmut?”

“What?”

“The budget..” You say again watching as his brow furrows.

“Whatever you want?” He tilts his head as he says it, a smile spreading on his face.

“Just name what you want, I'll make it happen.”

“Babe I don’t think-”

This is from a Bucky/Reader (a personal project of mine so it's been on the back burner for a while):

“So what do you know of me?” You follow as he leads you up a staircase.

“Alphabetically or chronologically?” You groan, shoving your hand over your face.

“Not much.” He laughs at your embarrassment nodding to the secretary who smiles.

“Please inform Barnes I’m at the café around the corner.”

He holds your chair out as you sit down watching as he orders a mocha and sandwich for you and a plain black coffee for himself.

“Now. As Bucky's best friend and honorary brother I have to make sure you won’t taint his virtue.” He smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“Of course, I’m sure you’re dying to tell me all about his less virtuous moments.” He laughs nodding.

“He sends you money right?” You blink surprised by his directness.

“Yes, he pays for a couple of my courses.”

“All. He pays for all of them, the money you pay towards them he’s put in a separate account for savings.”

“He did what.” You scowl. Steve smirks.

“Oh boy, you have no idea how deep he went do you…”

“Deep? What else is he paying for?” You glare at Steve and he laughs.

“Everything. Your school, your rent, your food, all your credit cards, and-“ He pauses smirking looking up past you.

“Look who is gonna be joining us for lunch.” You frown at the smirk and spark in his eyes, before you feel yourself pulled up and into a kiss.

[enkelimagnus]

Hardwood

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2393 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 5 Truth

Bucky decides to make his Brooklyn house a little more of a home for him, to his taste. A worried neighbor comes a-knocking.

TW: mention of murder of children (brief)

Read on AO3

Part 35 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

--------------

Three days after he comes home from Delacroix, Bucky grabs a frayed edge of carpet from his bedroom floor and pulls. It comes off with a loud tearing sound, but he just keeps pulling, effortlessly baring the hardwood underneath.

He doesn’t really know why he does it. He just sees the edge and pulls and he’s halfway down the room when he realizes the furniture is definitely on the way, and if he wants to do this, he’s going to have to plan it out. You don’t just redecorate this easily.

At least as far as he knows.

He’s never done this before. His parents’ home had stayed the same through his entire life, as far as he knew. Furniture was moved once a year before Passover, when they cleaned the place from top to bottom. And after that, he’d been through many safehouses, but his handlers had never had sudden desires to redecorate.

He doesn’t really know where to start. He knows he can’t remove the entire carpeting without taking out the furniture of the bedroom. He knows the color of the walls is horrible and he wants to change that. He knows that, by himself, it’s going to be an ordeal. But he doesn’t really know who to ask for help.

Miriam is way too old, he doesn’t have that good of a relationship with Charlie, and there is no way in hell he’s letting any of his coworkers remotely close to his personal life. So he’s going to do it by himself. One room by one room, probably.

Still, he uses his left arm to pull the bed off of the ground and the other one to pull the carpeting off from under it.

He guesses being a supersoldier has some advantages in this sort of situation.

It doesn’t take long for the entire hardwood floor of the bedroom to be bare, for the loud ripping noises that came with his hard, powerful pulls. The carpet won’t be usable anymore but he doesn’t care. He’ll throw it in the trash anyway.

Nothing Hydra touched should be given to someone else. It all deserves to burn.

He’s tired of this house feeling so much like a safehouse. He wants to change things, he wants it to be his house, not Hydra’s, on more levels than just legal. He wants to truly live here. It’s his, and he can do whatever he wants with it. He could have it bulldozed if he felt like it, but he doesn’t. He wants a home.

He’s halfway through ripping off the first guest room’s carpet when the doorbell rings.

It startles him. No one ever rings his doorbell. No one comes to see him. He’s lived there for a couple months now, and not once has that bell rang. He forgets for a brief instant that he’s holding the entire bed up with one hand.

Somehow, he manages to catch the heavy bed frame before it crashes into the floor and damages it.

Despite the surprise someone is ringing, Bucky takes the time to pull on his gloves. He’s already wearing a long-sleeved tshirt, and with the gloves on, no one can see the arm. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be fully comfortable in the open, in the daylight, with the arm out, even if it isn’t Hydra’s anymore.

He should probably get used to people knowing who he is. Anonymity isn’t something he’s allowed. Not after Berlin, not after the war with Thanos, not after Riga. Before all of that, no one would have recognized him. Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s right hand, was supposed to be long dead. The only Howling Commando to lose his life in the service of his country.

Now, if no one sees the arm, he can still pass for just another white man with a vague resemblance to someone that was one tv a couple of times. That’s all he can really have.

There’s no use in raging against it. The past couple of decades of the rise of social media has made it impossible for him to be erased. Zemo knew what he was doing in Vienna.

The person behind the door is breathing steadily. They don’t seem to be filled with adrenaline, not with that relatively calm heartbeat. There is no telltale sign of aggression or preparation for violence. Bucky swallows, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Behind the wooden panel is his neighbor. They’re tall, relatively thin, with hair so short it’s more like a five o’clock shadow spreading over their skull. They smile at him. Bucky stares. He doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen his neighbor in the daylight.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor,” they say, pointing towards their door, as if Bucky hasn’t recognized the one person that knows when he goes running from his nightmares. “I heard some strange noise, everything’s okay?”

Bucky keeps staring for a moment. He didn’t think the ripping of the carpeting would be loud enough to attract attention. But he was wrong. He didn’t imagine it would sound stranger than his occasional nightly shouts of terror or pain.

He quickly gets back to reality as the neighbor in front of him stares back with a smile.

“Hi,” he ends up saying. “Hm, I was… I was pulling the carpeting off of my bedroom floor. Nothing to worry about.”

It’s strange, having neighbors that seem to care whether you’re dying a strange horribly, ripping death. Or maybe they’re worried he’s killing someone, or doing some other horrible thing he would have done as the Winter Soldier.

Either way, this person’s presence in front of him right now is peculiar. It makes him think of Mrs Naumescu, his parents’ left neighbor, who would come knocking whenever she heard something that worried her.

There had been a couple of nights where Bucky had snuck back in, sometimes with Steve, sometimes after dropping Steve off at his own place, where she had heard him come in and come knocking to warn his parents of an intruder, or scare away said intruder. She’d had a baseball bat in her hand - her son’s.

Hopefully this neighbor won’t be as worried for his safety.

“Do you need help?” they ask, and Bucky stares at them again, bewildered. He wasn’t expecting to be asked such a thing. He wasn’t expecting anyone to want to help.

“I’m pretty strong…” He starts, and then stops.

He can do it alone. But he could also take the offered help, for once. There’s an outstretched hand. What horrible thing can they do to him that hasn’t already been done? He knows better than to dismiss them as just a neighbor - after all, he knows plenty of very common and innocent-looking spies. But what harm can actually be done to him?

“You know anything about hardwood floors?”

For the rest of the morning, Bucky keeps the gloves on. There are only a couple of instances of him displaying strength that is just on the edge of unusual, but they don’t comment on it. They do exchange names and - to Bucky’s surprise - pronouns.

The neighbor’s name is Olly and they use they/them pronouns. To his own shame, he has to be given an explanation on what that means. He’s so deeply out of touch with that part of the world. A part of the world that he supposedly belongs in, according to today’s definitions. Because Steve was a man, and even if he’s the only man Bucky ever willingly wanted, it still counts.

It should have been a fluke, a one-off. It shouldn’t have counted if it was only Steve. But it does, supposedly. Bucky doesn’t know much about that.

They work fast, get the carpeting out of the two other guest rooms as well as the corridor. Turns out, Olly knows how to take care of hardwood floors. They know a lot of stuff about remodeling and house work. They end up establishing together a list of items needed to properly finish the job, and do what Bucky actually wants for his home.

Bucky makes them sandwiches for lunch, with pastrami, mustard and pickles. It’s a cliché perhaps, but it’s delicious. There are a couple of beers in his fridge.

“You’re good at all of this,” Bucky says, swallowing a mouthful of pastrami. It’s a little too dry. He misses the butcher he went to as a kid. His pastrami was amazing. He hasn’t been able to find one that compares with his memories yet. “Is it what you do for a living? House renovation?"

They chuckle, shaking their head. "Oh wow, no, not at all. I’m a social worker,” they explain. Social worker. Bucky remembers those people growing up. They were trying to fix problems, especially with the crash. “When my partner, our friends and I renovated the house,” they continue, pointing towards the wall between their two houses. “We learned a few things. What do you do?"

It takes a moment for Bucky to figure out actually how to phrase it. "Military contractor."

That’s the closest he can think. He’s contracted by the military, somewhat. They did make him sign a contract, to regulate what had already been outlined by his pardon agreement.

"Like an engineer?"

Of course they’re polite and curious. Bucky would be as well. He could just come out and say it. I’m the Winter Soldier and one of the reasons I walk free is that I work to clean up Hydra’s messes. He doesn’t know how public the conditions of his pardon are.

Once again, he struggles to explain what it is he does without saying it out right.

“I guess I provide intelligence? And experience."

Phrased that way, it sounds nice. That’s what he does though, it’s not a lie. It feels… almost pleasant to be able to say it that way. He provides information on how Hydra works, experience on how the safehouses are set up… A fist too. When they break into a safehouse, he’s always first. He’s hard to kill, after all.

And maybe… just maybe, some of his higher-ups wouldn’t mind if he died on a mission. They’d tell the place he went out trying to fix what he’d done.

Sometimes, that phrasing ‘fixing what he’d done’ chokes him up. It’s the way Lieutenant General Henricksen talks about the work he makes him do. Henricksen believes it was his fault. Of course he does.

It makes sense. People have no idea what it is like to be brainwashed. They have seen movies and video games and read books about it. They have no idea what it is actually like. They have no idea how it feels.

He remembers all of it, and he remembers pulling the trigger. Sometimes because he was directly ordered to by a handler - something that was impossible for him to resist doing. Sometimes because it was what was required to complete the mission - like with the son and daughter of the Algerian FLN commander that were sleeping in their beds.

He could have disobeyed all the orders in the second category. He never did. Not until Steve.

He must have zoned out thinking about the horrible things he’s done, because Olly clears their throat.

“And if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get this house? It’s been empty for years, we always wondered what was going on with it.”

That’s, again, a really hard question to answer without saying the truth. Bucky’s not even supposed to tell the truth about his work. That’s not his job. He doesn’t work on communication.

“Inheritance?” It comes out more like a question than anything else.

So much about his life is… unexplainable. It’s like all he has to share with the world is a heavily redacted file.

Most of it is of his own doing, he realizes. He’s the one who doesn’t want people to know exactly who he is, what he’s done. The only things he is actually forbidden to talk about are the specifics of his high-profile, governmental kills, as well as his ongoing missions with the army. The rest…

He could just say that this is an ex-Hydra safehouse and he got it through work. He could just say he’s working with the army to break into Hydra properties and recover what they took from the government while they were hiding behind the SHIELD insignia.

There would be questions, of course. What of the non-governmental resources they took? That goes to various archive buildings all over the U.S., to be tagged, processed and gather dust until their rightful owners pipe up. There are a lot of items waiting for people who don’t know they’re missing something.

Olly seems to accept Bucky’s cryptic and hesitant answer. Thank G-d. Bucky doesn’t know what he would have said if they kept prying. He guesses it’s selfish. He knows he can’t finish the job by himself, and telling Olly the truth would surely make them run out of the house.

They finish lunch and Bucky makes a pot of coffee. It’s when he turns back to face Olly that his eyes catch the picture he framed on the wall when he got there.

The picture of Steve and him on the front lines, in Europe. The postcard from the Smithsonian. Both of their faces, smiling wide. As far as Bucky knows, there aren’t any images of Steve smiling that way, wide and open and carefree even in the middle of the war, from after he was unfrozen in 2012.

Perhaps because he just didn’t have time to smile like this anymore. Perhaps because this was his Bucky smile. The smile Bucky knew he only smiled for him, and because of him. The best, most beautiful smile in the world.

In any case, there is no way Olly didn’t see the picture. There is no way they don’t know who he is now, even without seeing the arm. They haven’t said anything.

Bucky reaches over and pulls his right glove off, revealing skin. It takes all the strength in his mind and body to take off the other one, revealing vibranium.

He usually never takes the gloves off in front of someone when he isn’t playing soldier. But he is in his home. He shouldn’t have to hide himself here.

#bucky barnes #jewish bucky barnes #marvel #mine #jbu #fic

[thatgoblin]

Small Town Affairs Chapter 4

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She’s trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren’t something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 4

Peggy gave me the silent treatment that morning and while I wanted to tell her she was being childish over the night before, I didn’t have the energy in me to do it. So, I did my morning routine and got to work with little words exchanged between us. Lunch time rolled around before I knew it. Clint was bringing me food which was the only saving grace of the day so far. I clocked out after letting Peggy know before booking it out the back.

“Hey,” Clint said, as he sat in the patio chair with several take out boxes. “How’s it going today?” He asked as I flopped into the chair opposite of him, groaning as I covered my face with my hands. “That good, huh?”

“Just fantastic,” I huffed before sitting up. “Did you have any trouble at the restaurant?” I asked, looking at the boxes before finding mine. Wait, there were three boxes and three drinks. Who else was there?

“Hello.”

I looked up to see Helmut walking over with a smile as he waved to me. Waving back with a nervous giggle, I wanted the ground to just open up and swallow me whole.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I sighed, giving Clint a dirty look. He looked anywhere but at me as he twiddled his thumbs and whistled as Helmut took a seat next to me. “Hi, how are you?” I asked him, looking to Helmut with a tight smile of my own.

“I’m good. Clint said he was having lunch in town with a friend and asked me to join,” Helmut said, turning to look at Clint as he shot his own dirty look at the blond. “He gave the impression that you knew I would be joining.”

“Funny how he left that part out for me completely,” I said.

“Who’s hungry?” Clint asked with a grin as he opened his box.

“Forgive him, he means well, but I’ve been telling Howard that he should really get him looked at by a psychologist,” Helmut said.

“Hey! I’m perfectly sane!” Clint cried, sitting up. “The military had me tested.”

“It was the American military, it barely counts,” Helmut said, giving me a suffering look. “Poor thing.” I couldn’t help the smile as I giggled while Clint glared at Helmut. Okay, he was funny and good looking. The guy had those points going for him.

“You were in the military?” I asked as Clint stole Helmut’s pickle spear from his sandwich.

“Yes, we all were. Well, almost all of us in the pack,” Clint said. “Howard was a private contractor for a while, selling arms before he stopped developing them and turned his business into a medical research facility.”

“Wait, Howard is Howard Stark? The billionaire, genius, philanthropist Howard Stark?” I choked out.

“Yep, that’s him,” Clint said with a proud grin.

“I gave Howard Stark a lap dance,” I whined, making a face.

“It’s okay, you also gave Helmut a lap dance too,” Clint said, making both me and Helmut choke.

“I swear to god Clint,” I said, glaring at him. “You want to die or something.”

“Howard always says my self preservation is lacking,” he smirked, leaning back in his chair.

“You should definitely work on that,” Helmut said, shaking his head.

“So, military?” I asked, trying to bring things back away from lap dances.

“Yes,” Clint said. “I was in the Marines and went through sniper training, Howard made things go boom, Helmut was a colonel in the Sokovian army, and his mate Bucky was in the US Army with his friend Steve Rogers.”

“Wow, that is a lot of military experience,” I said, raising my brows. “You were a colonel?” I asked, looking at Helmut. “I thought that was like after years of service. Like, many more years than what you look to have.”

“Thank you,” Helmut said with a chuckle. “You are correct in that I am much younger than most colonels, but I went to a military school growing up as well as a military university.”

“He’s also a land Baron,” Clint added. “So, he’s Colonel Baron Helmut Zemo.” My eyes went wide as I looked from Helmut to Clint.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes. I do have a land title back in my home country,” Helmut said with a deep sigh. “Clint, maybe you could allow me to speak for myself before I let it slip about how you started dating Howard as a mission from your former position.

“What?” I asked, grinning as I looked between the two. “Is he serious?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. Oh, hey, look at the time. I told my sweet, wonderful mate that I love dearly that we would be back in, well right now. Who knew time could fly so fast?” Clint rambled, chuckling as he looked at his watch.

“I’m not ready to leave yet and I drove,” Helmut said, relaxing back in his seat. “I still have to finish my food as does Hazel.”

“Yeah, I’ve still got at least 10 minutes left of lunch as well,” I said, giving Clint a smirk as I picked at my food.

“Fine, I’ll leave it alone,” he said with a groan.

“Good choice,” Helmut said with a hum. The last bit of lunch was spent talking about the town, how the pack was settling in, and how work was going. It felt refreshingly normal and healthy that I didn’t want it to end.

“Now I should really get back to work before Peggy comes looking for me,” I said, checking my phone. “I had a nice time today though. Thanks for the food, Clint.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll start bringing you lunch everyday if you want. Howard works remotely now from home and it’s mostly just business meetings. I get bored during the day,” Clint said.

“What about you?” I asked Helmut. “You wanna start coming everyday for lunch too?”

“As much as I would love to, I cannot. Unlike Clint, I have a job,” Helmut said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” I asked, gathering the trash.

“I make and sell sculptures,” Helmut said. “I most often use clay as my medium. I find it therapeutic. As does my mate, Bucky.”

“Bucky’s your mate?” I asked, freezing up a bit. Fuck. “I mean, you two look good together,” I said, shaking it off and smiling. Of course, the one guy I started to like was already taken.

“I’ll be in the car,” Clint said, quickly exiting the situation.

“He is, but we’ve been discussing for a while about opening up our relationship to someone we both were interested in,” Helmut said once Clint was gone, shifting in his seat. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. There was no way I could have another relationship with two Alphas. Everything in me panicked and I didn’t even realize that I was shaking till Helmut touched my hand. “Hazel? What’s wrong?”

“Look, uh, it was nice meeting you again. Properly this time,” I said, jerking away as I stood up. “I’m sure Clint is waiting for you in the car-”

“Hazel, wait,” Helmu said, standing up as well. He wasn’t demanding or accerting Alpha scents, that was what made me stop. “Please, I did not mean to offend or presume.”

“What did you mean then?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as I involuntarily shrank myself as much as I could.

“I meant I would like to pursue you as a romantic partner, but if that is not something you would like, then I would very much like to be your friend,” Helmut said. “Even if it means that we never become more.” Could I do that? He seemed genuine and unlike any other Alpha I’d dated before, he wasn’t trying to force it or bargain with me for what he wanted. He was concerned with what I wanted and what I needed. But John had been like that at first too. Brock not so much, but John had been a friend first too.

I wanted to trust Clint that he wouldn’t let someone close to me that was like John or Brock. Unlike John or Brock though, I didn’t live with Helmut and Bucky, so I had a place to go if things went south. Maybe. . . Maybe it was time to try to move on in some way from my wrecked past.

“Okay,” I said with a nod, relaxing. “Friends. Even if nothing happens. I could always use a few more of those.”

“Thank you. I assure you, friends are good to have,” he said, smiling again.

“Especially if they’re Baron’s,” I said, chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “I do need to get going though. It was nice seeing you again and having actual time to talk to you.”

“I agree,” Helmut said with a hum. “Here, before I forget. I’ll give you my number and you can message me to talk or spend time together.” He started to dig in his pocket for pen and paper before I stopped him.

“Here, just put your number in my phone,” I said. He nodded, offering me his. We exchanged numbers before handing the phone’s back. “Send me pictures of your sculptures. I wanna see them.”

“Of course,” Helmut said. “Would it be okay if I gave you a hug?” An Alpha was asking if they could hug an Omega? The panic from earlier began to feel unneeded as he was proving to be a totally different person than who I was used to dealing with.

“Yeah, I’d like a hug,” I said, my cheeks flushing a bit as we stepped closer. Helmut wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on them as I wrapped my arms around his middle. Our bodies slotted together so easily and his scent had me nuzzling against his chest. It was the most content moment with another person that I’d had in so long that I swear I would have jumped into his arms to be carried away to nest if he’d asked.

I could have stayed there all day, but I knew I had to get back to work. Slowly, I pulled away, his arms sliding down mine to grasp my hands and give them a squeeze.

“I’ll message you later,” I said, feeling a dopey smile spread over my face. “Be safe getting home. Tell Bucky I said Hi.”

“I will. Have a good day at work,” Helmut said, slowly shuffling away. At the back door, I gave him one last look before heading back inside.

Oh, he was something else.

“About time you came back from lunch,” Peggy said from her register.

“Sorry, got uh. . . Got caught up in something,” I said, logging back into my register and time card.

“What is that?” She asked, looking around confused before walking over to me. “Is that. . . Did an Alpha scent you?”

“No, we just hugged,” I said, unable to hide the smile.

“It was the bearded one, yes? From the other day?” She asked, leaning in to keep our voices down so no one could eavesdrop.

“Yeah. His name’s Helmut and he’s from Sokovia,” I said. “We’re not. . . Doing anything really. We’re friends. That’s it. It’s what I’m comfortable with.”

“Well, good for you,” she said. “You deserve a bit of happiness. Just let me know if he turns into a prick and I’ll make sure he disappears.”

“Peggy!” I gasped, grinning at her. “Thank you though, I appreciate the thought.”

“Oh, it’s not a thought, I have a tractor with a, what do you call it, a backhoe. No one will find him,” she said, looking at me over her glasses.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” I snorted. The sudden moment between us was comforting, showing me that things weren’t ruined. “Look, about last night, I’m sorry I got awful. I was stressed and money is tight, and a lot of pent mental nonsense from the last few years kinda blew up all at once.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed all that I did,” she said with a sigh. “It’s easy to believe what everyone else does and not question how things are. I also shouldn’t have pushed on the subject. I overstepped boundaries and that may have been some maternal instincts. You’re like family to me and I want you to be happy and healthy, so that may have come across less than helpful. If you need some help with anything, just let me know, even if it’s just to have a cup of tea and some quiet time in the garden. I’ll even scrounge up biscuits as well.”

“Between you and Clint, I’m going to be forced out of my hermit routine,” I said, chuckling as I shook my head.

“Good,” Peggy said. “You need to get out of that routine. Just because it’s safe doesn’t mean it’s healthy.”

“I know. I’m having lunch with people and not hiding behind the building anymore,” I said.

“You’re still behind the building, you just have company,” she said with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah. Baby steps,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Just don’t shut everyone out anymore. Even if it’s not me, Clint is a nice person and it seems so is the rest of the pack. Let someone, anyone in,” she said, moving towards the office, pausing to give my shoulder a squeeze. “I know it's been hard since Ethan left, but you have to take care of yourself too.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze back. The mention of that name made my chest tight and I felt the air knocked out of me slightly. She was right though, since Ethan moved out of state I’d shut down and relied on John and Brock solely till recently. It was time to change that.

“Good, now get back to work, you lazy git,” Peggy smirked, walking back to the office.

“Rude!” I gasped, laughing at her wink.

At least things were back to normal, if not better, between us. I felt less burden and with Clint basically declaring that I was his lunch partner I was a little less on my own. Did it scare me to open up again? Oh fuck did it, but it was better for me and I didn’t feel that constant hovering of dread. Well, as much as I used to. Yeah, it was better and I could only hope that it kept going up.

Of course the universe had to say no.

At the end of the day when I was home and making dinner when Nick got back to me.

[Nick SMS]: Sorry, Haze. We don’t have any more positions for servers or dancers. If something opens up, I’ll let you know.

The urge to hurl my phone at the wall was great, but my lack of money to replace it was greater.

[Hazel SMS]: Thanks anyways, Nick. Keep me in the loop in case something happens. I’ll be by later this week to get my stuff from my locker.

My options were dwindling and the more I thought about it the more depressed I became. What was I going to do?

#zemo/oc #bucky barnes/oc #zemo/bucky barnes #zemo/bucky barnes/oc #john walker/oc #john walker/brock rumlow #johnwalker/brock rumlow/oc #brock rumlow/oc #fanfiction #marvel

[leylinefiction]

No More Yesterdays: Chapter 10

Jo follows Sarah’s instructions on how to make the boys lunch, as well as a couple extra sandwiches for some kids who were not as fortunate as AJ and Cass. Once the two boys are off to school, Jo starts the process of mixing up cornbread batter and getting that made for the grill that afternoon. She never thought of herself as being domestic in the cooking sense but she does love being not just busy but helpful.

She’s washing her hands in the sink when she hears the screen door open and sees Bucky walk into the kitchen. He comes over to the sink, wraps his arms around her waist and kisses the side of her neck. It tickles and she giggles, trying to move away from him.

“Ew,” Sam comments from the doorway, “in the kitchen too.”

Jo blushes straight to the roots of her hair but a quick glance over at Sam tells her the ribbing is good natured based on the half-smile he gives the two of them.

Bucky whispers in her ear, “Wish me luck,” before kissing her cheek and following Sam out the front door. She notices Sam has picked up the case with the shield in it and they’re heading to the far end of the yard where the trees had padding strapped around them. Jo sends up a silent prayer that the conversation goes well before continuing with the kitchen prep. Less than two hours later, as Jo is slicing the cornbread, both men return to the house with drawn faces.

“Uh-oh,” Jo says it before she can stop. Both men nod as Bucky leans on the counter and Sam sits at the kitchen table.

“We got a call from Hazel,” Bucky starts. “She and Zemo are heading to Walter Reed.”

“The hospital?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers. “She’s been diagnosed with stage two chronic lymphocytic leukemia.”

Jo hasn’t met Hazel yet and only knows the basics from what Bucky has told her but it still takes the air out of her lungs. “Is there a treatment plan?”

Bucky scoffs. “Yeah, there is one. A foolproof one too.”

“If Zemo hasn’t convinced her to not take it,” Sam adds.

Ah. The super soldier serum. Jo hasn’t met Zemo yet but she certainly knows of him from covering The Sokovia Accords and fallout that followed. “Well, if he’s convinced her not to take the serum, you two just need to convince her otherwise.”

“I think that’s a job for Sam,” Bucky states.

“Really?” Sam counters. “Not the actual super soldier?”

Bucky sighs. “I’m what can go wrong with the serum. She doesn’t need a reminder of that.”

“No,” Jo interrupts, “HYDRA was what went off the rails with the Winter Soldier program. Walker is what can go wrong with the serum. There’s a difference.”

“Maybe we should send Jo.” Bucky suggests.

Jo rolls her eyes and goes back to wrapping up the cornbread.  “It needs to be someone that she has respect for, that she’ll trust.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, “someone like Captain America.”

Jo glances over her shoulder at Bucky, who gives her a slight nod. She can’t hide the wide grin that spreads across her face.

Sam sighs. “Fine. I wanted to stop in DC anyway. Which also reminds me, I have a favor to ask of Jo.”

***

Hazel stands on the tarmac by Zemo’s plane watching him climb the stairs. He must have noticed that she isn’t following and turns around halfway up the climb.

“There should be someone in this vicinity,” he motions to the steps below him.

“Send me back alone.”

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ve talked about this. I am not sending you back to the United States alone. You’re too ill-”

“I’m not that bad.” She’s lying through her teeth. She can feel it in her bones, ironically enough.

He leans against the railing and crosses his arms. “Charlotte.”

She jolts at the use of her birth name. She hasn’t heard someone use it since she was eight and she’s not sure how to feel it about now. She fiddles with the strap on her duffle bag. “There’s no sense in both of us going back. You know what’s going to happen the minute you step foot on American soil.”

He sighs dramatically and pulls out his cell phone, dialing a number. Whoever it is, they pick up quickly. “We’re having a bit of an issue.”

Now it’s Hazel’s turn to cross her arms as he makes his way down the stairs and hands her the phone. She takes it reluctantly. “Hello?”

“Get on the damn plane.”

Hazel leans the phone away from her ear. “How did you get Pepper’s number?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and climbs back up the stairs, disappearing into the aircraft. Hazel returns to the phone.

“Pepper, I’m sorry-”

“No, you’re not. You’re being stubborn and pig headed and quite frankly it’s way too early in the morning here to be dealing with this bullshit. Get on the plane, get to Walter Reed. Banner and Rhodey are already on their way.”

“Rhodey I can understand but why Banner?”

Pepper sighs. “I wasn’t going to tell you until you landed. Tony had his own safety deposit box for you that he inherited from his father. I opened it when you called about the cancer diagnosis just to see if there was anything in there that could help.”

Hazel wraps her hand around the railing and puts her foot on the bottom step. “What was in there?”

“Two more doses of the serum that were used when you were a child. Banner is waiting on the analytics to make sure the serum hasn’t degraded but he sounded pretty positive about the preliminary results.”

Hazel tries to process this news. There’s hope. There’s a cure. She’ll be able to live. She looks up at the plane and thinks of Zemo and the cost of that cure. He would never approve of this course action.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, sorry, Pepper.”

“I would have thought you would have been a bit happier at the news.”

Hazel rallies some enthusiasm. “I am. It’s just surprising. I didn’t think Uncle Howard would have thought that far in advance.”

“Well, if he didn’t, we certainly wouldn’t be where we are at the moment.”

“Pepper, there is one other thing that we should discuss before I get there.”

“Your traveling companion?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs heavily into the phone. “He’s the least of our worries right now. Getting you home and treated is the number one priority right now.”

“He hasn’t hesitated at bringing me back to the States. In fact, he’s been insistent. I don’t want to see him punished for putting his neck out for me. Not for this.”

“I’ll have Happy handcuff him to your hospital bed or IV line. We’ll call it ‘custody’ to appease the authorities. Now, enough stalling. Get on the plane. Wait a minute.”

Hazel hears blankets moving and Pepper’s muffled voice. “Tell Aunt Hazel to get on the plane.”

A sleepy child’s voice comes across the line. “Get on the train, Auntie Hazel!”

“Plane, sweetheart,” Pepper corrects.

“She knows where she’s going, Mom.”

Hazel laughs. “Okay, okay. Auntie Hazel is getting on the plane right now.”

“Good,” Pepper sighs in relief. “I’ll see you at Walter Reed in the afternoon then.”

Hazel hangs up the phone, takes a deep breath, and walks up the stairs into the plane. Oeznik is in the galley and she pats his arm in greeting.

“Do you need anything, ma’am?”

“No, nothing at all. Thank you.” She slips past him and hands Zemo’s phone back to him. “I can’t promise you immunity when we land but Pepper definitely is more concerned about my treatment than you being out and about.”

He nods. “I figured as much.”

“Speaking of treatment.” She sits down in the chair across from him and notices his face is slightly drawn. “You already know, don’t you?”

“Howard Stark was neither a stupid nor unprepared man. It would have surprised me had he not set aside extra serum for his...insurance policy, as you put it.”

“And you’re still willing to fly me back to the states, knowing how they’re going to treat me?”

“It’s not a decision that sits well with me. However, you also have not said that you’re going to take the serum. I’m curious about your hesitation.”

She’s certain he is but she can’t just come out and tell him the direct truth. “I have my reasons.”

He smirks. “I’m sure you do.”

She wants to throw something at him. “Why are you asking questions when you already know the answers?”

“It’s very entertaining to watch you squirm.”

She huffs in frustration and straightens her jacket with a sharp snap.

Zemo seems to take pity on her. “My intention is not to make you angry though.”

“Good job.”

“My sincerest apologies then.”

He extends his hand and after waiting a few moments, she finally slips her hand into his. “God, you’re exasperating.”

“And yet, you value my opinion in such a serious situation. Why?”

Hazel starts to pull her hand back, but Zemo stands up and tugs her over to the small couch where they can sit closer to each other.  She can’t tell if the closeness helps or hurts her desire to speak the truth. Zemo seems to pick up on this and situates her so that she’s leaning back against him and they’re not face to face. It does help calm her nerves slightly. His fingertips trace imaginary patterns on the exposed skin of her arms.

“So, Schatz, what are your thoughts?”

“Schatz?”

He chuckles. “It’s a German pet name. It means ‘treasure.’”

“Oh.” She lays her head back and it rests on his shoulder. “I guess I could ask you the same. You’re fundamentally dead set against anyone using the super soldier serum and yet here you are being a personal valet for someone who is going to receive it.”

“So you are going to use it?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she fiddles with her watchband, “there’s still things I want to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like, the normal stuff. I want to do research on projects at Stark Industries. I want to see Morgan grow up. I want to, maybe, watch my own kids grow up. I’ve been stolen away and protected for so long that I just want to be free before I die. At least for a little while. But those all seem like very selfish reasons to take it.”

“I don’t see the selfishness in that.”

“What makes me any better than Karli then? She just wanted to live her life.”

“Once again you miss the nuance of the situation. Karli wants other people to live the life she believes they want. You want to live your own life and improve other’s lives as much as you can. There is a big difference between the two mindsets.”

Hazel sits up and turns to face him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you’re getting ready to talk me into taking the serum.”

“Perhaps I am.”

“This makes no sense. You’ve talked about how those who take the serum have a supremacy ideal.”

“The desire to live your own life is not a supremacy ideal though. It’s survival.”

“You said that the serum corrupts those who take it.”

“Except for Steve Rogers.”

Hazel frowns. “You said there will never be another Steve Rogers.”

“True. Rogers was unique and will always remain so.” He looks her dead in the eyes. “Just as there will never be another Charlotte Carbonell.”

The truth spills out of her before she can even think to stop it. “I don’t want to do this if it means you’ll turn your back on me.”

“That won’t happen.”

She searches his face for any tells of deception and she can’t find any. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to see you die either. I do believe you have more to accomplish in this world. The Stark legacy is synonymous with ingenuity and global influence. You have obviously inherited the intelligence and creativity. Added with your empathy, how could the world not be a better place?” He sighs. “Why do my words matter so much to you? Surely people have told you how special you are?”

“Yes, but this is the first time I’ve actually believed someone.”

#fan fic #tfatws #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #baron zemo #bucky barnes x oc

[aspiratixxn]

Hey Dollface

Summary: The best surprise after a really long, hard day at work. 

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3086

Notes: For @bucky-smiles​ since they’ve had some hard times lately! It’s me, your Bucky anon haha. I just wanted to be really soft and writing Bucky for you really inspired me! I hope you like it :) 

Tagging: @holy-captain​

It’s a shit day. It’s a really, really shit day.

It all started with a burnt pancake, on Monday of all days. Pancakes are a Monday tradition you picked up from your mom, who always made them sprinkled with different fruits to give you a pick-me-up (because Mondays you know?). And you had never burned a pancake, not even the one you made alone at the tender age of seven.

You’re not the superstitious type, not really, but a burnt pancake spelled out trouble and you knew it. You were quick to toss the thing but not quick enough for the smoke detector. Its shrill shriek pierced the morning calm and you heard a clattering through the thin walls of your (mediocre on a good day) apartment. And you had winced when someone banged on your door, asking if you were okay. Of course, you had to answer them, meekly peeking from behind the door. Although they had taken it gracefully, it had already put a damper on your day, which really only got worse from there.

Cleaning the pancake and clearing the smoke detector debacle took up your morning, which meant you didn’t have breakfast. At all. Not even a grab and go banana. Instead, you went sprinting down and out, nearly running over your two floors down neighbor’s dog and getting a shouted earful about that. And of course it was drizzling, enough that an umbrella wasn’t going to keep you from getting uncomfortably damp. Your sneakers squish as you walk in the building, your co-workers wincing when they see you. Your best friend Wanda fusses over you for just a moment, trying to pat moisture out of your shirt.

“Really (Name), you’re such a mess today. I mean more than usual. Did someone get some,” She glances in both directions and whispers in your ear, ��Action last night?”

You sputter, pushing her away gently. “Why would you think that?!” He’s not even home right now so it’s not like you could anyways.

She just giggles. “I’m kidding, kidding! Here.” You take the towel and try to dry your hair. You hate this because now you’re going to look like a puffball. “I made some of my famous soup today! For you and me and Natasha, so you’ll be warmed up before you know it.”

You heave a great sigh and drape yourself over her lap. “Oh Wanda, my love, what would I do without you?”

“Starve? Maybe suffer a soupless life?” You gasp, flinging your arm over your eyes. She just laughs again and pats you on the head before she sneaks back to her desk. You’re grateful she’s willing to suffer the wrath of the boss, who pushes productivity to the max.

You take a pause to check your phone before you move and light up when you see (1) message from Bucky.

BUCKY: Good morning beautiful BUCKY: Just wanted to remind you that you are the bestest, most awesome person in the world and you’re gonna rock your day!

You work a classic office job, the kind in weird half cubicles where the walls are too short to hide anything from anyone. Before you even start working you have to clear away all the sticky notes and remnants from last Friday when you had dragged yourself home after some overtime. When your workspace is adequately cleaned (or at least cleaned enough you aren’t knocking over things when you shift), you get to answering your emails.

Which of course, leads to another bad thing. The client was infuriated with the current status of the project. In his eyes, it should have been done a week and a half ago, when you know full well that this project isn’t going to be done for another week if not two. It’s an intense request that just takes time and you’re already doing your best, putting in the overtime to try and reach his ridiculous goals. Heinrich Zemo really needs someone to knock him down a peg and you might just be the person to do it if you ever meet him in person.

So begins the back and forth emailing between you two, filled to the brim with polite fuck you’s. And since he seems to zing back mail at the speed of light, you can’t even work on anything else you’re supposed to, like the design blueprints for Natasha or the business plan outline for Sam. And they’re shooting you little looks because they kind of need that stuff for the next steps of their own projects. Sympathetic looks but looks just the same. And it makes you burn with frustration because you want to get it done, you want to be productive but you just. Can’t.

In between your phone keeps pinging with messages from Bucky, which is the only reason why you survive this entire frustrating situation.

BUCKY: i love your fashion sense. It’s so chic and sleek and ugh, so perfect for you

BUCKY: can’t wait to dance with you again darling! Hope you’re ready to try some tango this time ;)

BUCKY: do you want s’mores pie or banana cream? i’m thinking s’mores because y’know, chocolate. marshmallows. what’s not to love?

BUCKY: next date at the flower garden? we can have a picnic!

BUCKY: holy shit I am so ready for blueberry season again. I know it’s a while away but ugh, I really want some right now :(

BUCKY: you got this babe! I believe in you!

BUCKY: do you want to get Chinese or Italian when I see you again? I’m feeling a strong Chinese vibe. YOU: Chinese BUCKY: that’s my girl

The morning is a blur of pent up anger that ends with you squishing the ever loving shit out of a pumpkin plush, a desk leftover from Halloween. You’re half surprised the thing doesn’t pop under the pressure but you feel bad, placing it back down and patting it. Finally Zemo shuts up and you’re left with fifteen minutes before lunch, which really isn’t time to start anything for work. Instead, you bring out your white bound planner, a bullet journal you’ve been steadily working on, and start to build the next month. End of the month means needing to prep all the pages for February, and you sigh as you stare lovingly at your collection of pens just for this. They’re all absolutely lovely, shades that you adore and a quality that can’t be beat. You mill briefly, deciding between a pastel and a hard pink. The pastel wins out of course and you smooth out the page, already covered in neat pen lines from last night. You begin to fill in banners and hearts and…

Just your goddamn luck your pen starts to fizzle out. Which really sucks because these puppies are not cheap in the slightest. You growl and thunk your head on the desk, making Sam snicker.

“Not your day?”

“Not now Wilson.”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m pretty sure there’s something good in your horoscope for today.” He’s teasing you now for sure. He’s not even into horoscopes, not even as a joke. You turn your head enough to give him your darkest stink eye, which just makes him grin wider. He pats your shoulder and slides over some chocolates, dark like you like it. You huff and your hands come up to open the blue foil, fumbling a bit before popping it in your mouth.

Your phone pings and you glance at it with dull eyes. Sam can visibly see them getting their spark back though and he can guess who’s messaged.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: hey sweetheart, just wanted to tell you that you’re my favorite girl and it’s lunch time! I made myself a sandwich today, look! BUCKY: (1 photo attached)

YOU: why’s it so full? it’s practically bursting! YOU: if you take a bite you’re gonna spill everything out of the bread

BUCKY: hey! rude! >:( BUCKY: I’ll have you know I am a sandwich expert and it will not spill everywhere

YOU: sure it won’t babe ;)

BUCKY: >:T

“(Name)!!” Wanda comes bursting back in, holding up a thermos for you to see. It does brighten up your day, especially when Natasha pops up right after with a box of sandwiches from the best deli on the block. She even got you extra fries. God your friends are so good.

At least lunch passes without any scruples. You don’t spill any of Wanda’s spicy and absolutely delicious soup and you don’t drip any mayo on your blouse from the sandwich. There’s a close call with some ketchup for the fries but it lands next to your leg instead of on it.

“Absolutely not. How dare you even assume Eliza has a chance?” Natasha jabs a fry in your direction.

“Well it’s better than Martha! Did you see her bedroom eyes at him? And he just straight up ignored her!” Wanda throws her hands up in frustration. “Honestly, does this guy even like any of the contestants? It’s like he has the stiffest face in the world.”

You shrug, thoughtfully munching for a moment. “I just think Eliza’s nice y’know? She’s sweet and she’s not pushy, which I mean. It’s probably not great for ratings but Nick hasn’t eliminated her yet so that has to count for something right?”

“Nuh-uh! Angelica’s a favorite here. Did you see how he was laughing on their fake date? I can tell flirting when I see it. And she’s a real firecracker type, which means she’s definitely there to spice up his life if you know what I mean~” Natasha wiggles her eyebrows and you snort, nearly choking on your ice tea.

“Y’all are crazy! It’s definitely gotta be Delanie! Cute, small, hips fit real well.” Sam runs his hands in the same, also wiggling his eyebrows. “And did you see how he was watching her when she was talking about her family? How she wanted a cute little wedding like her parents? That’s a catch.”

You sigh and put your head in your hands. “It’s so artificial though. Like I know all this is scripted and framed and stuff so like, what does it matter? I’d want something real.”

“You sound really dreamy there (name). Got some embarrassing sappy things you want to say to us?” Wanda has her face pressed up to yours and you blush, pushing her away again. Wanda’s really dangerous like that, able to sniff out feelings and stories just like that.

“No! Shut your smug little faces.” All three have taken on that look that you know oh so well. You shovel another few fries in your face and then shut the empty container. Around a mouthful of the dry potatoes, you mumble, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some outlines and blueprints to work on.”

How is this day not already over? Honestly it feels like it’s been an eternity.

Your phone pings with a message. Steve, inviting you to a Monday movie night. Since movies are cheap as hell, Steve likes to visit the theaters often and see what the new thing is. Not surprising given his theatrical/acting/film study obsession.

STEVE: Movie night?

YOU: what movie?

STEVE: Cats (2019) STEVE: I know, I know I just really want to see it. It’s so interesting, the CGI work!

YOU: i dont really want to pay money to see that though YOU: like its YOU: so weird YOU: and like not YOU: i dunno i just don’t really want to see it

STEVE: :( STEVE: C’mon, it’ll be fun! We’ll get caramel corn.

YOU: ooooh tempting me YOU: but no i think imma go home and like wine night it YOU: its been a long day :/

STEVE: Ouch. Well it’s the same place as usual, 6 PM if you wanna come.

YOU: probs not but thanks anyways

STEVE: :)

You plug in your headphones and scroll through your music, settling for some chilled out tunes to slowly progress through the dense documents you have to read before you can properly plan out Sam’s thing. It sucks because you can already feel a headache starting to bud and you have to stop periodically to press on your eyes. You also frequently get up to get water, which means you’re also going to the bathroom a lot and today’s productivity has just slam dunked down the drain. To compensate for not doing literally any work in the morning (gee, thanks Zemo), you put in some overtime hours, which means you’re definitely movie night. You don’t even leave the office until your eyes are burning with the strain of staring at a screen for seven or so hours. You stumble out and rub your eyes, yawning and stretching, trying to get some of the tension out of your shoulders.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: have you been at work this whole time? Damn girl BUCKY: the grind never stops💪

YOU: i wish it did YOU: ugh i’m so tired :(

BUCKY: well you’re almost home right? BUCKY: im sure there’s something good waiting for you at home BUCKY: like dinner! what are you thinking today?

You don’t even know what you’re going to do for dinner, but you’ll deal with that when you get home. At worst you have some cheap instant noodle thing that you can spice up with some eggs. It’s still dreary out and it feels like rain in your skin so you almost sprint home, sticking to the well-lit areas because you are not in the mood to punch a mugger in the nose.

You stop by the corner store though and buy yourself two bottles of wine. You buy something that’s nice, indulging a little. Or you try to anyways, when you discover you left your ID at home. You groan in frustration and instead grab some peach-mango juice and a bag of BBQ chips, hovering momentarily over the big blocks of cheese. You really could just use one to bite into, but you refrain, knowing you have shredded cheese at home, and you can just eat that with a spoon.

Trudging up the stairs, you nearly kick the dog again because it comes shooting around the corner of the stairs. As it is, you end up swerving and kicking the wall which makes you drop your grocery goods and you just.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You gather the groceries in your arms again and make it finally to your apartment, nearly staggering into the door. You fumble with the keys, missing the lock a few times before jamming it in and twisting. You’re ready to collapse on the couch and chug your juice straight from the gallon container but you don’t because when you lift your eyes up from the ground, you’re met with the bestest, sweetest, slightly crooked smile in the world.

“Bucky!” You drop everything and full body launch yourself at him, nearly tipping him over. Whatever he says about being strong and sturdy, you’re a force to be reckoned with and you snuggle your face up against his neck, breathing in the pine needle and wood smoke scent he has. “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week!”

“Decided to surprise you doll face.” He peppers your cheeks with kisses, and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. His lips are so warm against your chilled skin and you try your best to catch them against yours.

He hefts you up a bit so you’re almost sitting on his hip. He bends down to get the fallen chips and you squeal, tightening your hold on his neck. He fakes a choking sound and you loosen a little, feeling him smile against your cheeks.

“You’re so prickly.” Your fingers run along his jawline that’s covered in stubble.

You can feel his laugh, from his chest where you’re pressed. “Sorry pumpkin, I didn’t have a lot of time between there and here.” He stands back up again and you shriek again, burying your face at the sudden moment. “Sounds like you’re still full of energy though.”

“Noooo. I’m really tired Bucky, I had a hard day at work. I’ve had a hard day all dayyyyy.” You turn with a pout, which makes him kiss your puffed cheeks. His eyes sparkle with mirth and you feel like the entire day has completely melted away.

He carries you to the couch, depositing you in front of some of your favorite Chinese take-out. The smell alone makes you wanna drool and you lean forward to take a big, deep breath. “You are a god send.” He waives it out with another full belly laugh, handing you a pair of chopsticks. He got your favorite dumplings and sour-spicy soup and of course, shrimp lo mien. You practically inhale the food. “It’s so good babe, oh my god. I have been revived from the dead.” He flicks on the TV, finding some movie marathon. It sounds like Harry Potter but you’re way to invested in the food in front of you.

It makes you feel so overwhelmingly warm to have him home again after being away for so long. Soon enough, the empty cartons are abandoned on the table and you’re curled up against his side, exhaustion seeping into your warm, full body. Bucky’s got his arm around you, gently playing with the hair that curls by your neck. He’s telling a story, something about how he had found an adorable kitten at work who had clung to his shoulder all day.  His voice runs over you like honey tea, so warm and comforting. You have his other hand in your own hands, tracing the scars that lace over his knuckles and across his palm. Everyone your fingers cover, you follow with kisses.

“I love you.” You yawn in the middle, but he just leans over to kiss your forehead, simultaneously pulling over the blanket from the edge of the couch towards you. It’s your favorite blanket, and it definitely wasn’t on the couch this morning. God he’s so sweet.

“I love you too (name).” He gives you another forehead kiss and begins to play with your hair, which you almost purr at. This is it, this is peak comfort. You grip his shirt tightly, slightly worried this is just some fever dream you’re having at being so tired. “Tell me about your day. Don’t leave out a single detail!”

“Mm, well it started with a burnt pancake…”

#Bucky Barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #oneshot #Reader insert

[not-close-to-straight]

Storms (Chapter Six)

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE Enjoy :) *************** So it still wasn't easy, not even close, but things were getting better, finally. Thor made three meals a day, and true to his word, Tony ate a little bit each time. Sometimes he was sick almost immediately after, and other times, he would rub his stomach with a sort of pleased look on his face and Thor would grin so broadly he thought his face would split. Thor made him go outside, taking walks to get fresh air and sunshine on his face until Tony's cheeks were red and his hair was windblown. Tony even started coming along on grocery trips, picking out what he wanted to eat, even going so far as to pick out things he could cook, and every once in awhile Tony would make a meal just for Thor. He smiled more, never those heart stopping, full on charming grins from before, but small private smiles just for Thor in little moments of humour or when Thor was being especially sweet. They kissed most days, when Tony would tug on Thor’s hand shyly and tilt his head up for one. Most times he wouldn't kiss back, just smile a little and pull away. But sometimes, something would spark between them, and Thor was helpless against it, when Tony would suddenly kiss him back eagerly and make that soft little noise like he was desperate. Those were the moments it took a large amount of Thors self control to pull away, those moments when Tony was pressing against him for more, scratching his nails down Thor's chest and nipping at Thor's lips to deepen the embrace. Thor stayed with him almost every night now, too, as long as Tony was sober. He refused to sleep in the bed if Tony was drunk, not willing to put either of them in a position to go too far and give Tony a reason to be upset in the morning. The bad days were coming fewer and farther in between, and Thor counted each good day as a victory.

It was the nights he stayed that Tony would talk the most, and all the stories came out, in short sentences and tears as Tony finally talked about it all in the dark room. He talked about how much Ultron had fucked him up. How badly things had gone with the Accords. The way it seemed like everyone just turned on him so quickly. How Natasha had switched sides right in the middle of the fight, and how Tony thought he could actually hit her for that. When he had visited the raft and begged for information about Steve and Bucky, and Clint had said all those things. “Sam was the one who talked to me.” Tony said slowly, sipping from his water, holding Thor’s hand tight as they sat in his bed, leaning up against the pillows to talk. “Clint just… he was so angry. Bitter. Like he hated me. Just that fast. We went from friends to enemies. But Sam- who I've talked to maybe six times in my life. He was the one to trust me enough to tell me where Steve was. I think he felt bad about Rhodey.” “Vision had been aiming for him.” Thor said, and Tony nodded. “Sam dodged the beam, not his fault. It hit Rhodey instead. I could have killed him for that. Wanted to kill Sam and Vision and just… drop a building on everyone else. I think I was done then. Done caring.” “But you weren't. Because you went after Steve as a friend.” Thor pointed out. “Yeah well, no one says I make the best decisions.” Tony took another drink and crumpled up the bottle. “Can I have a grown up drink now? I drank all my water.” Thor shook his head and handed him another water. “You have been drinking too much, Anthony.” “Yeah. I know. I know.” ************** The story about Russia finally came out one night as they lay in bed together, Thor’s arms wrapped tight around Tony's waist as he trembled and cried and cursed Steve, and Bucky, and Zemo. He talked about finding the other Winter Soldiers dead, about realizing Zemo was just trying to ruin them. About having to watch Bucky kill his parents. And having to see the look on Steve's face because he knew. He had known and had never thought to tell Tony. Probably never would have told Tony. “Would you have wanted to know?” Thor asked, and Tony curled closer into him. “Of course. I can't say I wouldn't have tried to hurt Bucky still, but--but at the end of the day, it's not his fault. He was just a weapon at Hydras disposal. And he looked…” Tony swallowed hard and scrubbed at the tears on his face. “He looked devastated. Horrified at seeing himself on that tv. Confused, even. I don't even know if he knew who those people-my parents- were, or who I was, or that Steve even knew. When he fought me it wasn't like he was fighting me because he was trying to beat me, he was fighting for his life. He was scared I was going to kill him.” “He wasn't innocent.” Thor said slowly and Tony closed his eyes, losing himself in the steady thrum of Thor’s heart, and the sound of the rain outside. “But he wasn't really guilty either, was he?” ********************** Another day, eating their dinner and Tony looked up suddenly. “It's not all my fault, is it? Not really. I mean I made mistakes but… it wasn't all my fault?” His voice rose like he was asking a question and Thor was already shaking his head. “No, Anthony. Every member of the team shares the blame. You are just the only one here facing the consequences, you are the only one here trying to right the wrongs.” “You're here too.” Tony mumbled and Thor reached across to squeeze his hand. “And I am not leaving.” ************************ “You have been drafting letters to the UN asking for pardons for the team.” Thor said, coming up on Tony at the kitchen table. “You want them home?” “I've sent dozens of letters.” Tony muttered and shoved the files away from him. “They are Avengers, they need to be home.” “You would welcome them back to the compound?” Tony hesitate. “I don't--I haven't really thought that far ahead. But the world needs the Avengers and if I can bring them home then… I should try.” “But do you want them home?” Thor pressed and Tony rubbed his eyes wearily. “I can't really think about that. What I want doesn't matter.” “Doesn't it?” “No.” Tony reached for the sandwich Thor had made him. “What I want doesn't matter. It's better for everyone if the team is home, so that's what I'm going to do. Besides I don't even… I don't even know what I want.” Thor let his big hand rest on Tony shoulders, massaging into the tense muscles there. He still never went near Tony's neck, even if his inclination was to wrap a hand around the back of Tony's neck and pull him close. Not to hurt him, no not ever, not again, but simply because it was a possessive hold and Thor… Thor was feeling very possessive lately. It had been weeks now, weeks since that first kiss, and every time Tony lifted his face for another one, Thor had to stop himself from picking Tony up and tossing him into the nearest bed. The beautiful brunette was starting to fill out just a little again, thin shoulders and bony hips starting to soften, his ribs not quite so noticeable when Thor held him. His hair had even lost that dullness and was starting to shine again, especially now that Tony had started putting an effort into his grooming-- buying his fancy soaps and hair gels, keeping his goatee trimmed and neat. Every time he left bed and went to take a shower, Thor had to count down from a thousand in every language he knew to keep himself from joining Tony in the bathroom, and the sight of Tony in just a towel after his shower had Thor wishing he knew a immobility spell to bind himself to the bed so he wouldn't reach and touch. Tony seemed oblivious for the most part, but every once in while those dark eyes would spark and those pink lips would curl in a little smile and Tony would open his mouth like he was going to say something… and Thor would clench his fists and bite his tongue and pray to every god of every realm to grant him patience. Because he was not going to push Tony into anything. More often than not, Tony's body didn't respond at all as they kissed, even if Thor felt as if he was always ready. But sometimes,when the moment was just right, Tony would press against him, rub against him almost lazily, with a heat in his eyes and a hitch in his breath and Thor was so close to being lost. And he loved Tony, of course he did. In fact Thor was starting to think maybe he had always loved Tony, and it was only here in their empty compound with no distractions that he had finally realized it. So he called Tony his beloved, elskan min, every chance he got, and every time Tony would blush and move just a little bit closer, be just a little more eager for a kiss, let Thor hold him just a little bit longer. And Thor was patient, of course he was. He was centuries old, after all. He had sat in stillness for days in meditation, waited for weeks for the perfect opportunity to strike at enemies, had studied for years to learn of Mjolnirs magick and powers and how he could use them. Thor was absolutely patient, absolutely willing to wait until Tony was ready to move forward. Willing to wait longer in case Tony was never ready. But then. Then there would be a moment like now, and for whatever reason, Tony was looking up at him, dark eyes so soft, and hair mussed enough to make him look young, biting at his bottom lip nervously, and then he tilted his head up, lifted his chin and pursed his lips, and without a seconds hesitation, Thor was dropping to his knees in front of his chair, pressing between Tony's legs and slotting their mouths together. And oh, Tony kissed him back this time, running his hands through Thor's long blond hair and tugging lightly, digging his fingers into Thor's shoulders and urging him closer, letting his tongue dance along the seam of Thors lips until the demi-god opened for him, and then they were tasting each other, and licking into each others mouths and Tony was making this sweet sound, like a moan, but better, and Thor was damn near growling as he wrapped both hands around Tony's waist, and scooted him to the edge of the chair. And Tony rocked forward enough that Thor's hands slipped down to his hips and the curve of his ass, and Thor couldn't help squeezing, kneading at the muscles and Tony certainly couldn't help the way his whole body shuddered, the groan that came from somewhere deep inside his core. “Fuck.” Tony pulled away first, pressing their foreheads together and sucking in a deep breath. “Anthony.” Thor murmured and tried to slow his breathing, tried to talk himself into letting go of Tony, tried to talk himself into easing them down from this suddenly and surprisingly charged moment. “I don't know how I feel about the team coming home.” Tony said then, and his voice was shaky enough that Thor wanted to smile, knowing that Tony was just as affected as he was this time. “I don't know how I feel about that. And I don't know what I want in terms of all of… that. I have no idea. But I know I want you, Thor.” “What?” Thor asked, scarcely able to believe-- “I know I want you.” Tony repeated quietly. “You told me you weren’t going to leave me, and you didn't. Told me you would help me work through this, and you have. You hold me when I need it, and let me cry, and make me eat and don't let me slip back into… into all that. And you--” he closed his eyes and Thor pressed closer, murmuring soft, comforting things in his ear. “You don't think I'm ugly, because of my scars. And you don't think I'm an awful person, after all the damage I've caused.  And in the morning when we wake up together you always smile like I'm the best thing you've ever seen and---” his arms looped around Thor's neck. “And every time I am sad, it rains, and I know that's you. And when I'm raging against the world, the wind howls, and I know that's you. And sometimes when we kiss--” his lips lifted in a smile. “I can hear the thunder, and I know that's you and all I keep thinking about is..is what I would have to do to make it storm.” “Anthony.” Thor groaned and Tony's eyes went wide and soft. “Thor.” He swallowed hard and licked his lips. “Will you show me… will you make a storm? With me?” “Why?” Thor asked, one big hand still splayed across Tony's ass, the other coming up to trace his jaw carefully. “Because I want to see the lightning.” Tony's cheeks were red, but he wasn't turning away, wasn't looking down. “And feel...feel the ground shake with thunder. And know that I'm safe because you're the one holding me.” He cleared his throat. “Thor, can we--” “Elskan min.” Thor rumbled and kissed him gently. “Come. We will make a storm.”

#thunderiron #tony stark #thor odinson #post cacw #healing