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gravedadoasis · 2 years ago
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  estar en aquel lugar era algo bueno para él, o eso le habían dicho todos sus amigos después de la gran pelea con aquel titán. todo había cambiado y bucky se estaba acostumbrado a esos cambios; tener un amigo que era captain america, que el antiguo captain america ya no fuera steve, estar viviendo con sam y también natasha romanoff debido a que la antigua base de los avengers estaba en reparaciones. vivir con sam era una cosa, pero vivir con aquella pelirroja era algo que no estaba esperando. natasha era simplemente alguien que lo dejaba sin habla, una persona que deseaba saber más de ella y la encontraba increíble en la batalla, simplemente tenía halagos para ella. natasha simplemente es perfecta, y es algo que no dirá en voz alta. el castaño sale de la habitación con una camiseta de su propia mercancía (una broma de sam, esta vez), y con unos pantalones de buzo, el soldado se encontraba en descansado debido a que últimamente estaba teniendo ciertos dolores de cabeza y algunas pesadillas que no lo dejaban tranquilo. en segundos se encontraba en la cocina preparando un café, para luego ir a sentarse en aquel enorme sillón que tenía el contrario. tal vez el dolor de cabeza y aquellos recuerdos no se iban de su mente, pero necesitaba distraerse con algo en este momento, sabe que seguir descansado será algo horrible para él, debido a que siempre ha sido una persona en constante actividad, pero después de todo lo ocurrido el mundo y hasta ciertos villanos se han detenido en algunas cosas. @bubblesxndunicorns 
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ohwowimlonley · 5 months ago
Satiated - Bucky Barnes
Warnings - smut, swearing, kinda hair pulling, praise kink, size kink, innocence kink, subspace, oral (f receiving), fingering, cockwarming, fluffyyyyy, teeny lil bit of angst, terrible writing, idk it's just nAsty lol. Established relationship btw!
Characters - dom!bucky barnes x virgin!fem!reader
Summary - y/n wants bucky to be her first. Bucky doesnt know shes a virgin. Smut ensues.
Authors notes - this has been in my drafts since I first started my tumblr so it's terrible for the first bit but it gets better (hopefully?)
You was so sure that this was it. Tonight would be the the night. You were finally going to give up your virginity. To Bucky.
You meant to tell him that you were a virgin. Really, you did. But it just never came up. You had been with Bucky for just over four months now. There was no point in keeping it from the others, mostly because of how clingy you were with him. It was strange for you; being this clingy - this needy - with someone. You'd never felt anything like it before. Granted, you'd never had a boyfriend before Bucky, he was your first kiss too. Not that he knew any of that, of course. But with him you felt so at home. You didn't think he'd need to know. It wouldnt make any affect, right?
You'd set the mood, you thought, just right. You didn't want to throw sex in his face so you opted for your LED strip lights to be set to a light red with the main light off. You were wearing his longsleeve Beatles tshirt and a pretty cute lingerie set that you bought in preparation. You decided against wearing shorts, after all, the mission was to fuck the guy, why let another bit of clothing get in the way?
"Hey doll, I'm back," Bucky's infuriatingly attractive voice rang out. He'd just gotten back from a HYDRA mission. You knew he hated going on those missions, especially when you weren't with him. You rushed over to him.
"Hi there darling," you wrapped one arm around his neck and the other went under his shoulder, crushing the life out of him in a hug. He returned it with equal force which made a grin wriggle its way onto your face.
"How was it?" You pulled away and smushed his face in between your hands, "are you okay? Did you need to go to the medi lab? Do you need another hug? Do you want to eat? I think I have some snacky things in my mini fridge but-"
"Doll, I'm fine," he interrupted, moving your hands from his face and putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "I didn't get hurt and I'm not hungry. I will take you up on that hug though. Can we watch something shit and cuddle? I missed you."
You almost melted at his little pout, "okay baby, why don't you climb into bed and I'll sort out some of The Flash, yeah?"
He leaned down to kiss your forehead before pulling away and getting under the covers. You went to turn on the TV and pulled up The Flash. You were well aware that Bucky was staring at your ass, which was sticking out of the bottom of his tshirt, giving him a peek of the lavender lace that barely covered you.
When you were done, you turned to see him with blown pupils but a calm smile on his face. He beckoned you over and you skipped towards him happily, your high ponytail swishing behind you. You jumped onto the bed and wiggled under the duvet with him.
Bucky immediately wrapped has arms around you and pulled you literally on top of him. You whined at him and squirmed.
"Buckyyyyy I can't seeeeeee!"
"Don't whine doll, you said so yourself that it's shit. So just stay here with me, yeah?" He held you tighter against him so you complied.
"Y'know, I have the best boyfriend, like, ever. Like it's not even funny anymore you're just awesome," you rested your chin in between his ribs and smiled so wide it was almost a grimace. He rolled his eyes at you.
"You're a sap, dollface," he was smiling, though, so it proved that he liked it.
You sent him a wink and sat up so that you were straddling him over the hips. His eyes bugged out for a second but he tried to play it cool. He leaned up to peck you on the lips.
"Hey there, princess," he murmured, smiling softly.
You kissed him again, deeper this time and with more passion. Bucky didn't seem to object so you pressed further, tounge edging into the seam of his lips and parting them. He grunted in response and sucked in the muscle, sitting upright now. His hands wandered down to your ass and squeezed, gently at first but his grip got firmer when you whined into the kiss. Bucky smirked and pulled away, eliciting another whine from you.
"What's got you like this, little one?" You shivered at the nickname. He noticed.
You distracted yourself from his words by rolling your hips on his. The sensation of it was sending chills down your spine making you shiver and your thighs tense. You could feel yourself getting... aroused.
"Like what, Buck?" You wiggled a bit on his lap, finally feeling that hardness under you that you'd never felt before.
"Like this," he muffled a gasp from your movement, "all... horny,"
You bit your lip and buried your face in his neck, groaning at his words, "stoooooop!"
"Whyyyyyyy? I just wanna know!" He insisted.
He wrapped one hand around your waist and the his prosthetic metal one in your hair. He pulled you back by the hair at the nape of your neck, the tiny bit of pain made you let out a moan.
"What's going on with you?!" He'd never seen you like this before.
You looked down, still firmly sat on his now very evident erection and played with the fingers of his flesh hand after prying it from your waist.
"I just- I can't-" you groaned at your inability to form a proper sentence.
"Just take a breath," you nodded, "and tell me what you want."
"I want you," you whined, "bubba please,"
"What do you mean doll- like-" you interrupted with another roll of your hips, praying that he understood. "Oh, oh,"
You nodded helplessly and grinded against him more, desperate for him to help you with the wetness that had built up from the friction between the two of you.
"You mean like, now?" He tried not to respond to your unintentional teasing but he was hard as a fucking rock because of you and your flimsy lilac panties, "y'know we don't have to if you don't wanna,"
"Baby please!" You weren't trying to be bratty, he was just taking so long and after 25 years of never orgasming, you were a little frustrated.
"Jesus Christ! Calm down doll, if I didn't know any better I'd say this was your time," he joked. But you tensed up. Oh god. Did he know?
You laughed it off, but Bucky's supersoldier senses made him acutely aware that your heart rate sped up and your breathing stopped.
"Doll if it's your first time we don't have to-"
"But Bucky I wanna! I promise. I wasn't even gonna tell you because I knew that you'd treat me like glass-- and- and that's why i never said that you were my first kiss either-" you cut him off but he returned the favour with an incredulous gasp.
"I WAS YOUR FIRST KISS? AND YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME?!" He sounded angry. His grip on your hips tightened and you winced.
"I- I'm sorry Bucky! Just didn't wanna make you worried I-" His grip tightened more, vibranium fingers digging into your bones, "ouch Bucky!"
His hand instantly retracted and he looked mortified, staring at your skin that was already yellowing from his grip.
"See doll! This is why you should've told me! I could hurt you, darling! I don't ever wanna do that," his eyes were still glued to the still-forming bruise, tears welling in his pondwater eyes.
"You could never hurt me, Buck! Not really; not on purpose!" You protested. He didn't seem convinced in the slightest, more focused on the purplish red pigmentation coming to life on your hips.
"Oh honey, it's okay! It doesn't hurt and look, look, it's fading already," that was a lie, by the morning those bruises would probably be black and blue. Not that Bucky needed to know that, "and it's alright darling, it's not you're fault, remember? You can't always feel how strong your new hand is, yeah? My big strong Bucky,"
You could see him trying to fight a smile but he refused to meet your eye.
"C'mon Bucky! How am I ever meant to learn how to take care of you if you dont teach me?" You insisted. Bucky finally raised his gaze, along with his right eyebrow.
"Teach you?" He wore a smirk now.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
"Well, think about it, baby. I mean, I've never even kissed anyone. How could I possibly know how to- how to-" your confidence faulters almost immediately, failing to realise theres no need to be embarrassed when you're with your Bucky.
"To what, princess? To suck my cock? Y' wanna know how to suck m'cock? Or d'you wanna learn how to ride me? Hmm? Learn how to milk m'cock like a good little girl?" He teased. You shuddered against him, leaning further into his perfectly sculpted pectorals. "Oh, I think you do. I think that you wanna be my best girl, huh? My perfect little sub, yeah?"
You nodded against him, but that didn't seem to satisfy Bucky.
"Use your words with me, baby, yeah? Y'gotta use your words with me or else I won't know what you want," holy heck, even when he's dominating you to all hell, he's so sweet and gentle with you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.
"Yes, Bucky," you mumbled, reluctantly un-hiding your head from his warm body when a sharp tug at the roots of your hair prompted you away.
"Good girl, well done, honey," he praised you beautifully. You felt the urge to shy away from his compliments, but instinctually you knew that he wouldn't accept that.
"Thank you d- hmm Bucky," he obviously heard your blunder but didn't focus on it, opting instead to stroke soothingly across the expanse of your thighs.
"Okay baby. Just one more thing, I want you to have a safeword, m'kay?" You nodded, "this is just in case y'wanna stop or I do something you don't like, yeah? I won't go too hard on you tonight. Wanna make it all special for you. My little princess,"
"Thank you, bubba," shyly, you pressed a kiss to his cheek which made him grin widely.
"Can you tell me what you want your safeword to be, m'love?"
"I- uh," you were half tempted to give him a stupid answer but this meant a lot to him and you could see it in his eyes.
"C'mon, little girl, don't get all shy on me now," he lilted.
"I- uh, red? I think? I-it's easy to remember, I guess?" His hand had moved from your thighs to your ass, moulding it into any shape he deemed appropriate.
"Well done, princess," he rewarded you with a kiss to the forehead. Then the cheek. Then nose. Finally, the lips. As soon as he pulled away, you chased his lips with a pout and a whine.
"Now now, little girl. Dont get whiny," he lilted.
"Bubba kissy pleaseeee," you whined pathetically.
"Okay honey, but just know that you can't always get what you want with that cute little pout of yours," he relented, pushing his lips against yours. You whimpered into the kiss, grinding yourself down against him to relieve some of the pressure that had built up over your conversation.
He seemed to love it, grappling at your ass and pulling you further onto his raging hard-on. His tongue slipped into your mouth, licking over your teeth and smoothing itself over your own tongue.
"Lay down for me, little girl," he prompted, lightly tapping your bum and moving you to lie on your back. You scrambled to stay on top of him, clinging to his thighs and securing your arms around his neck, "it's okay, honey, I'm staying with you. Not going anywhere, yeah?"
"Staying," you echoed blearily, finally slipping off of him and lying down.
"Good girl," he confirmed, spreading your legs and settling in between them.
He tugged on the bottom of your shirt as a question to which you raised your arms and lifted up slightly. He pulled it off of your body and sat back on his heels to admire you. Bucky had never particularly been fond of the colour lilac but at that moment he had fallen in love with it.
"Sweetie you look... edible," he growled, "can I take it off?"
"Yes, daddy," your eyes widened at your own words, immediately covering your own mouth and retracting from his soothing hands. Your mind was racing 'oh god what did I just do? Does he hate me?'
"Say that again," he demanded, groaning and resting his head on your shoulder. You keened at that, letting out a sigh of relief that he enjoyed it.
"Yes, daddy," you brushed your lips to his ears, an almost tangible fog settling on your mind. It comforted you.
"Fuck," he lifted himself from your shoulder, undressing you quickly and throwing his head back at what he saw.
"I'm gonna fuckin' eat you for dinner," he rumbled. He moved your thighs even further apart, almost painfully so, and leaning down so his face was level with your pussy, "oh, honey look at you! You're soaking for me! So wet for your daddy,"
You whined and raised your hips in an attempt to get any type of friction. He pushed them down but ducked his head with you.
"Shh, it's okay baby. Daddy's here, I'll take care of you," he squeezed your thigh gently, "y' ready?"
"Please, daddy, pretty please," you tentatively moved your hands into his hair. He rewarded your boldness with a kiss to your pussy lips. It felt like heaven, even though he'd done next to nothing.
After that, he went all out; he spread your lips by dragging his tongue through them. Your fingers tugged on his hair as harsh as you dared, albeit not that hard. He seemed to love it though, moving to suck carefully on your clit. You let out a whiny moan, loving the new sensation. You'd never touched yourself before; never had an orgasm. This was all new to you and it felt so fucking good.
He suckled and pulled at your clit, slowly moving his index finger to your hole. He didn't enter you with his finger, opting instead to circle it gently, getting you used to the feeling if being touched there.
"Oh, daddy! S' good," you babbled, lost in another world of pleasure. He moaned against you when you tugged his silky locks harder. "D-daddy can you- can you please put your finger in? Pretty please?"
"Of course honey, but it might hurt. Hold my hand, 'kay? Squeeze it if it hurts, don't be afraid," he smiled at you oh so sweetly and offered you his metal hand. Your grip in his hair slackened and you moved your right hand into his flesh one, smacking his metal one out of the way.
"But honey," he protested, but you gave him no room to argue.
"Daddy! Wanna have your fingers in me please! I'll be a good girl I promise, jus' want your fingers," you argued. He complied, intertwining his fleshy fingers with yours and sitting up to get a better angle so he could position his metal ones by your entrance.
"Oh? Does my little girl want my metal fingers in her? Kinky little girl," he grinned at you.
"Yes daddy, please," you whimpered. Bucky kept his grin and pushed his middle finger against your entrance. You held your breath as it slipped into you. It was definitely painful, not unbearably so but still uncomfortable.
Your hand clenched around his while your other one sought purchase on the bicep of his metal arm. Bucky, always the detective, saw that you were struggling and gave you a moment to adjust.
"Tell me when to move, m'love," he urged kindly. You were more greatful than ever before for how beautiful his personality was. So kind. So loving.
It took you more than a minute to relax; muscles tensing and untensing around his vibrainium fingertips. When you were ready, you gave him the go-ahead so he started shallowly thrusting his finger in and out.
After that, it didn't take long before you were whining and begging for another finger. 'Another another another, daddy!' Of course, he had admonished you for being so bratty but he didn't turn you down. He thought you looked so pretty when you were begging for him.
"Daddy!" You whimpered, a strange pressure building between your thighs, heating up to an unbearable pleasure that you felt.
"Aw, baby, y'gunna cum?" He smiled. Before you could respond, he pulled out his fingers unexpectedly.
"Daddy!" You fussed, tingly feeling still strong in your core and thoroughly unsatisfied. The fog was like a blanket now; covering you up and keeping you warm.
"Shh, don't whine, baby. Don't want you to cum now and be too sensitive before I get you on m'cock now, do we?" Smoothing his hand over your hip, smearing your arousal over it.
"No daddy, sorry daddy," you conceded, terrified that you did anything wrong. You wanted to be daddy's good girl.
"No, sweetie, don't be sorry, you did nothing wrong," he reassured. You sighed, so thankful that you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Daddy?" You looped your arms around his neck.
"Yes, doll?" You rested one side of your head on his, still annoyingly clothed, pectoral.
"Can I have your cock now?" Glazed over eyes stared longingly at his own.
"Of course, little one," he pulled his shirt over his head, fucking finally. Your eyes stayed glued to his abs because 'fucking hell he's so fucking hot holy shit'.
"Thank you, daddy," your fingers pressed into his muscles.
"Sweetie, how d'you wanna do this?" He moved your hands from his abdomen gently so he could remove his jeans. Beneath them, you could see how truly massive he was and fuck he looks so good.
"Baby?" He asked again, snapping you out of your trance.
You didn't answer him verbally, instead moving onto his lap and settling comfortably on his raging erection. After his assault on your clit earlier, you felt extra sensitive and that pressure against your bare core made you convulse in pleasure.
"Okay sweetie, okay," he kept that calming smile plastered on his face, gently urging you to sit up so that he could remove his boxers. You kept his eyes glued to his face until it faltered in pleasure. Looking down, you saw it. Over eight inches and thick as all hell.
"Daddy?" Your head lolled to the side, watching as his hand moved up and down it at a moderate pace.
"Yes, doll?" Groaning, his eyes locked on yours.
"How will that fit in me?" He laughed at that, so fond of your innocence.
"It'll fit, little one, don't worry," he assured you, using his metal hand to gently stroke your hip.
You reached out to grab his cock but he was quick to move you away.
"No, sweetie," he moved your hand into his hair so you could play with it if you wanted to. You whined at him, claiming that you wanted to make him feel good, "you will make me feel good, honey. When I cum inside that sweet little pussy of yours I'll feel so good I promise,"
"Okay, daddy," you leaned against his broad shoulder as he circled your hips against his cock.
"Y'ready, princess?" He double-checked for what seemed to be the tenth time. You responded by reaching for his length and lining it up with your entrance.
Ever so gently, he slid you down onto his cock. If he hadn't opened you up with his fingers earlier, you would have been in a lot more pain. He kept his hands on you when you were all the way down on him; moving them to your tits and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, causing even more pleasure to spike in your body.
You moaned loudly when he brought his mouth onto your left breast, suckling on your nipple, giving you the most pleasure you'd ever felt in your tits.
Adjusting took a few minutes but when you got used to it, you got impatient very fast. He noticed it when you grinded against him, shuddering at the immense feeling of his cock brushing against your inner walls. He couldn't bring himself to move away from your nipple, though, so he kept sucking while he moved both his hands to your hips and lifted you up so you were only halfway sheathed on his length. He secured you there so you were suspended on his cock, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. His pubic bone brushed against your clit and you were in heaven; his mouth on your tit, cock in your pussy and delicious friction on your bundle of nerves.
"Oh daddy! Feels so good!" You gasped out a breath, overwhelmed by pleasure and all of a sudden, you were falling. Falling deep into a delicious subspace. And there was that overwhelming buildup of pressure in your core again. "Daddy?"
He finally pulled off of your tit, leaving you cold without the warmth of his mouth, "yeah sweetie? What's up?"
Still thrusting up into you at a steadily inclining pace, Bucky found it hard to believe that this was your first time. You were so lost in pleasure that you hadn't acknowledged his words.
"Doll?" He punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust to your g-spot, making you see stars.
"Daddy? I-I feel-" you didn't know what you felt. Full. For sure, you felt full. Bucky's girth was splitting you in two.
"What d'ya feel, doll? Y'gunna cum? Gonna cum all over daddy's cock like my good little girl?" He teased you, kissing along your neck, bruising it whenever he saw fit.
"Yes daddy! Please, please can I cum?" You begged.
"Of course, little one, cum on daddy's cock," he encouraged. As soon as he gave permission, you let go.
You'd never felt pleasure like that, vision going white and violently clamping down on Bucky's cock, causing his eyes to roll back into his head and cumming inside of you. You fell blindly even deeper into the blissful state that made you feel oh so warm and fuzzy on the inside.
You didn't stir for a while after that. Not until Bucky gently attempted to move you off of him.
"No daddy! Nonononono!" You scrambled to stay leaning against his chest, "no movin daddy, stayin here,"
"Honey, we have to get you cleaned up," he reminded you.
"Daddy no! Have to stay with daddy," you insisted. He ran a soothing hand through your hair.
"Okay, princess, we can stay here," he relented, "but 's not daddy anymore, is it? 'S Bucky again, remember?"
"Nuh-uh, 's daddy. 'N I'm daddy's baby," you babbled, reaching to play with his fingers.
"No baby, it's Bucky. C'mon, baby, y'gotta come back f'me, yeah?" He urged you ever so carefully, scared that if he pushed too far then you would go deeper into subspace.
"But daddy-"
"No baby, say it with me 'Bucky', yeah?"
"Bucky," you repeated. "Bucky!"
"That's right m'love! Are y' back with me now?" He asked.
"Yeah, 'm back baby," you muzzled your face in his neck, hyperaware that his cock was half hard again in your cunt but your legs ached too much to do anything about it.
"Well done honey, how d'you feel?" He checked.
"What in all hell does that mean?"
"Your a 100 year old assassin and you don't know basic English?"
"I'm American!"
"You speak English!"
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boxofbonesfic · 4 months ago
Smut ask game! Number 7 👀👀
#7: “You want your [object] back? Make me.”  Title: Make Me Rating: Explicit Warnings: Dubcon, Spanking, Brat!Reader, Dom!Bucky Barnes, Aggressive Bucky (lmao)
A/N: GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT LMAO. Omg as soon as i got this this EXACT scenario popped into my head and i knew it was the one 🤣 This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! Minors, DNI! Enjoy 😘
Summary: You confront your inconsiderate new neighbor. 
 You sat straight up in bed, staring blearily around the room. 
 “Wha’ time’ssit?” You mumbled, rubbing at your eyes as you groped for your phone, lost among your sheets and pillows. You groaned loudly as another apartment shaking THUMP vibrated through your bedroom, and finally you felt the cool glass of your phone under your fingertips. You winced as the bright light blinded you, and you cursed, almost dropping it. 
 3:08 AM
 “What the fuck is he doing now?” You groaned. Your newest neighbor—newest pain in the ass, more like—had begun remodeling. You weren’t sure what he could be doing at three-oh-fucking-eight in the morning, but that had to be it. Another loud bang had you sitting back up in bed, and you threw the pillow angrily across the room. Before you’d realized it, you were shoving your feet into your ratty blue slippers, and marching across the creaky floor. 
 Three-oh-goddam-motherfucking-eight, you thought venomously, stalking single mindedly through your kitchen towards the front door. You’d been more than lenient when it came to your rather reclusive neighbor—when he’d moved in in the middle of the night, furniture banging up the stairwell. When he’d boxed your car in for four hours, forcing you to take a taxi to work—after leaving a polite but firm note on the windshield of his bike—you’d been understanding then, too. And it had helped to run into his cute blond friend leaving his apartment, who asked if maybe you might look in on his insular friend from time to time.
 But it was three-sweet-fucking-jesus-oh-eight in the goddamn morning, and you had to be up for work in four hours—you didn’t have it in you to be tolerant, not when—THUMP!—you’d barely gotten enough sleep as it was. You tore open the door to your apartment, glaring down the hallway hatefully. 
 You clenched your fists, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door labeled J. Barnes. You waited with baited breath for a few minutes before you knocked again, this time louder. Finally—finally—the banging stopped, and you heard an irritated sigh from the other side of the door.
 You scoffed. Unbelievable. You glared at the door incredulously. He wasn’t even going to open the damn door to talk to you after making enough noise to wake up the whole block?! 
 “It’s 3:08 in the morning, would you mind not hammering on the wall?” You snapped, placing your on your hips. “Some of us have to work in the morning.” You could hear the sound of the door chain being unlatched, and you stepped back a little as the door swung open. 
 Oh my god. He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. You swallowed audibly, forcing your eyes to stop traveling down the light dusting of hair just below his navel. Instead, they found the welted, angry skin connecting what looked to be a Stark-level prosthetic to his shoulder. You licked suddenly dry lips. You hadn’t actually seen your neighbor before, though if you’d known he was built like goddamn Hercules, you might have been more inclined to keep a civil tongue in your head. 
 “What’s the problem?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. You hoped like hell he hadn’t witnessed the momentary departure of all of your brain function. You cleared your throat.
 “It’s um, it’s late.” You stammered, cursing yourself. Get it together girl. “And you’re being really loud.” He held a hammer loosely in his metal hand, a testament to the construction he’d just been taking part in. You grew bolder. “Maybe try doing your remodeling during regular hours?” You suggested snippily, crossing your arms. His eyes traveled lower, and suddenly you were painfully aware that you weren’t wearing a bra. You were still in your pajamas, a tank-top and shorts that were probably too small to be decent. You quickly uncrossed your arms, not missing the lascivious smirk that spread across his handsome features. 
 “See that’s the problem doll,” He said, clearly enjoying the way you fumed at the pet-name. “I work during ‘regular people hours’.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you tried not to lick your lips as his muscles bunched and flexed under his skin. “So you can kind of see my problem.” 
 “You’re not the only person in the building,” You snapped. “Other people live here too.” 
 “And you’re the only one complaining.” He replied easily, and you fought the urge to stomp your foot. It was the lack of sleep making you tired and irritable, you already knew this, but his flippant attitude certainly wasn’t helping. You wanted to scream, but you held it in—barely. 
 “Look. It’s 3:08 in the morning, and—”
 “3:15, actually.” 
  “—AND you’re making it impossible for me to sleep. My bedroom is right behind…whatever the hell you’re doing in here.” You continued, ignoring his snide interruption. 
 “Poor thing,” He grinned wolfishly at you, his eyes tracing the outline of your breasts hungrily through your shirt. “I’d hate to keep you out of bed.” Your face heated, and you sputtered at him. 
 “J-just keep it down, okay?” Your voice came out shrill and squeaky, and you winced, turning on your heel. “Some of us are trying to sleep!” You started back down the hallway towards your own apartment, feeling his eyes on your back the whole way. 
 You slammed your door harder than necessary, and made your way back to your bedroom, your heart pounding a little harder in your chest when you realized that only about three feet of wall separated you from your hot—irritating—neighbor. You laid back down in bed, pressing your face into the pillows. 
 “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” 
 You threw yourself back out of bed, forgoing even your slippers this time as you marched back down the hall. You banged on his door again, all semblance of patience gone. He opened it, smirking down at you. 
 “Yes?” He had the hammer in his hand again, held loosely against his hip. You said nothing as your hand snaked forward, snatching it from his fingers. He was surprised and you used it to your advantage, speeding back down the hall and locking your door as he stared at you, open mouthed. 
 “Poor thing,” You said mockingly, tossing the hammer onto your counter. He could have it back when he could be responsible with it, goddammit. Until then, you would be keeping it in your custody until Mr. J. Barnes could prove that he wasn’t a threat to your nightly rest. You heard him shuffling down the hallway to knock on your door rather forcefully—but you ignored him. He knocked another time, before you heard him curse loudly on the other side of the door. 
 “Open up, doll.”
 You yawned loudly. “I don’t think I will. I’m actually about to head to bed, so…” You drawled, smirking triumphantly at him through the peep-hole. “Maybe you should too.” 
 “Very funny. Now open up and give me my tools back, doll.” 
 “Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.” A heavy thump shook your apartment, and you yelped with surprise—he’d pounded his fist heavily against it. 
 “This is all very funny,” He growled lowly, in a voice that told you he didn’t actually think it was funny at all. “But I’m serious now. I want my shit.” You scowled. He was the one who’d woken you at the asscrack of dawn with his very un-neighborly racket, and promptly refused to quiet down. You weren’t just standing up for yourself, no—you were making a stand for the twelve other tenants in the building too. 
 “You want me to give your hammer back?” You hissed through the wood. “Make me.”  
The sound of splintering wood was ringing in your ears as his metal fist came easily through the thick wood of your front door, wrapping around the handle as he unlocked it. The door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang as you gaped at him. “Y-you can’t—!” His nostrils flared as he looked at you, sprawled on the floor in front of your—now useless—door. 
 He grabbed your wrist, tugging you to your feet. “Gettin’ real tired of you telling me what I can and can’t do, sweetheart.” He growled, crushing his lips to yours. You gasped in surprise, and he drank the sound greedily, groaning against you. “Fuckin tease—s’this what passes for clothes now?” His hands found your ass, gripping it tightly through the paper thin fabric of your little shorts. You squirmed against him, moaning low in your throat. He delivered a stinging slap to your ass, groaning when you yelped against his lips. 
 “Shhh,” He said softly, massaging the sore spot he’d just left with cool, metal fingers. He kicked the door shut behind him, walking you further into the apartment. “You’re a real fuckin’ brat, aren’t you doll?” He asked cupping your chin with firm, gentle fingers. You shook your head defiantly. You weren’t sure how this had gone from a disagreement with your neighbor about his after-hours noise level to him punching a hole in your door and then marching inside to deliver the hottest kiss of your life, but here you were. You could feel embarrassing slick gathering between your thighs, and did your best to ignore it. 
 “N-no! And you need to leave,” You said hotly. “Before I call—” Another sharp slap made you cry out, jerking in his arms. “Ow!” 
 “Bratty little girls don’t make the rules,” His voice was a low rumble in your ear. “I do.”  You sucked a sharp breath into your lungs as he walked you backwards toward your kitchen table. You hated him ordering you around—and more than that, you hated how wet the calm, firm delivery of each command was making you. 
 “You’re the one breaking into people’s apartments,” You snapped, struggling in his grip, the warm metal whirring as you flailed. This was crazy—you were crazy. You should have been screaming down the building; calling the building manager, calling the cops—but you didn’t. His blue eyes were locked on your face, and you were almost afraid to meet them. 
 “Only because you stole from me.” He pulled out a chair with his free hand, seating himself. The world flipped on its head as he grabbed you, turning you face down over his lap. Your belly hit his thighs and the wind rushed out of your lungs, leaving you in stunned silence. He clucked his tongue at you as his hands began unabashedly moving over the exposed cheeks of your ass. Your shorts were barely managing to help you retain even an inch of your modesty, and you shivered as cool air moved over the damp spot of cloth covering your pussy. He groped you unabashedly, massaging the cheeks of your ass with slow, satisfied movements, as though he had all the time in the world. 
 “I didn’t steal from you—” You protested, but your complaint was cut off with another resounding slap that you heard before you felt it. “Ow—stop that!” You whined, kicking your legs uselessly as you tried to wriggle off of his lap. 
 “You want another one for lying, sweetness?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly. 
 “I’m not—” SMACK. “Fuck! Stop it!”
 He soothed the sting with cool, gentle circles of his metal hand. He ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, wrapping a curl tightly around his thumb before releasing it. 
 “Now doll. You’re never gonna learn manners if I don’t punish you when you break the rules.” He spanked you again, and the pained cry that tore from your lips ended in a strangled moan. Your face heated, and you pressed it against the leg of his joggers to hide it. You could practically hear the grin dripping from his words. “Oh baby, I think you liked that one.” He chuckled, his fingers dipping between the throbbing cheeks of your ass. 
 “I don’t need my loud neighbor to teach me manners—hey, no, stop—!!” Your protests came too late, and his cool fingers slid wetly against the swollen lips of your cunt. You were glad that in this position, you couldn’t see the smug, knowing expression you were sure graced his handsome features. 
 “No?” He asked mockingly, dragging his fingers up and down your slit to collect as much of your wetness as he could. “Could have fooled me.” Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even as your pussy clenched hungrily. He slid one, thick finger into your wet heat, groaning softly. “Fucking tight, too,” He cursed. “Gonna stretch you open on my cock, brat.” He curled his finger inside you, slapping your ass again lightly with his other hand. “Nothin’ to say, huh? Figured you’d shut that smart fuckin’ mouth when I got my hands on you.” 
 You wanted to tell him to fuck off, that he had no fucking idea what he was talking about—but currently your mouth was busy hanging open, your eyes squeezed shut as he alternated between slipping his fingers into your eager pussy, and laying quick, stinging blows on the soft flesh of your ass. You could feel his hard cock pushing into your belly through his pants, throbbing hotly against you as you squirmed. His calloused thumb circled your clit and you whined, pushing your hips back into his hand. He flicked it and you jerked, burying your teeth in his calf. He hissed, gripping your ass hard with his free hand. 
 “Fuck.” He hissed under his breath as his cock pulsed against your belly. You grinned, but your pleasure was short lived as he delivered a series of harsh spanks, forcing you to cry out. You pushed at his legs, hitting at them uselessly as he held you still, his fingers still damp with you. 
 “Looks like nobody ever gave you a proper spanking, sweetheart,” He growled. “But I’ll fix that.” You howled with pain, uncaring if any of the neighbors heard you. When you were sobbing softly against his leg, your pussy soaked and twitching, he righted you, spreading your legs across his lap. “You ready to be good for me, doll?” He asked, tilting your chin up for another kiss. You nodded breathlessly. He reached for the waistband of your shorts, the now warm metal humming against your skin as he tore them easily. He bit his lip at the sight of you, scrubbing a hand down his stubbled chin. “Fuck.” 
 He didn’t bother taking off his joggers, just sliding them down far enough for the fat head of his cock to spring out, slapping against his stomach. You clenched, suddenly aware of how achingly empty you were. “You want this dick, sweetness?” He asked, tugging your top down to expose your breasts. You nodded eagerly, your eyes flicking up to his and then back down. You reached for him, your hand wrapping around the base and working up to the tip. He grinned. “Then you better ask real nice.” 
 You swallowed thickly. “I want you to fuck me.” 
 “Not good enough doll. Try again.” You pouted at him. He slid the head of his cock against you, and you hissed, sucking in a sharp breath. 
 “Can you please fuck me, Mr. Barnes.” 
 “Mmm, I like that. Say it again.”
 “Please fuck me, Mr. Barnes,” You moaned as he pushed the head of his cock against you, popping it just inside. He cursed, throwing his head back as his eyes slid shut. 
 “God fucking damn.” He fucked up into you, expletives falling continuously from his lips as he helped you ride him. “So good,” He grunted, his fingers tightening hard on your hips. “Should’a done this weeks ago.” You felt so full, and his hands were everywhere. Ghosting over your back, tweaking your nipples and slapping your already sore ass. You already felt heat building in your belly, tension forcing you to move your hips faster, angle him deeper—and he grabbed your hips, pulling your down hard against him. He swore, pulling you off of him. 
 You only had time to moan once in complaint before he bent you over the table, kicking your legs apart as he fisted his cock with his other hand, lining himself quickly back up with the tight hole he’d just been occupying. 
 “Shi-it,” He groaned as he slid in slowly, not stopping until his hips were pressed tightly against the curve of your ass. He fucked you hard, hard enough to shake the little vase of flowers from your table and send it crashing to the floor. Your eyes rolled in your head as your pussy clenched hard around him. So close—
 “You gonna cum, baby?” He asked, his hand sliding up your spine to cup the back of your neck, pressing you harder into the table. 
 “Oh fuck,” You mewled, nodding. “Yes, yes, yes—” You clamped down around him like a vice, fresh wetness coating his cock and the table beneath you as you came harder than you could ever fucking remember—right on your kitchen table. His cock was twitching, his hips still moving against you as you felt answering sticky heat coat your insides. He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, his lips moving silently against your skin in what you could only assume were either praises or curses.
 He pulled out of you reluctantly, and it took every ounce of your strength to turn around and look at him, your head still fuzzy. He sat heavily back down in the chair, dragging a hand across his sweaty forehead. 
 “So…” You asked, trying and failing to stand straight on your still shaking legs. “What’s, um… your name?” You asked, and he laughed. 
 “I hope you’re good with that stupid hammer, Bucky,” You panted. “Because you’re gonna fix my door.” 
1K notes · View notes
all1e23 · 3 months ago
Lavender Smoke [Pt. 1]
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Pairings:  Alpha!Bucky x  Omega!Reader
Series warnings: A/B/O dynamics. Slightly more than my previous A/B/O series. Sorta love triangle. Kinda but not really. Arranged marriage. Smut 18+. Be cool, kids. I’ll add more as I go but for now I think that’s it.
Word Count:  4074
Squared Filled: Free Space
A/N:  Another one for @star-spangled-bingo​​ 2021! Finally posting the first chapter.  It is sort of modern AU but some typical royalty/medieval aspects are still there because it is loosely based on Tristian & Isolde. I am adding a few medieval accepts but it's set in modern times.  I don’t know, okay? Just go with it. It will also be a little more A/B/O traditional because of that. As always  my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​​​​​​​​​​ looked this over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me. I am no longer doing taglists. 
***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though!***
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The southern beaches were different from the northern shores Bucky grew up near. The sand was softer, silkier, if that made any sense at all. Less shells, too, and if you picked the right spot the water was so clear you could straight to the bottom like it was made outta glass somethin’. There was a different feel to them altogether. It left you with a warm, excited feeling. Something deep in you buzzing with the possibilities of what the waves would bring in each time they crashed against your feet. When George told Bucky to take the summer to get his head on straight, Bucky knew the exact place he wanted to go— Juno Beach. The last time he was here, he was just a little boy. That was back before everything went to shit; before his grandfather died, before his father took over the throne and before he became next in line to be king and clan alpha. A lot of things changed that winter and none of them have been in Bucky’s favor.
Bucky went from kicking Steve’s ass with wooden swords and chasing pretty omegas around the dance floor, to sitting in on council meetings and learning every single law and bylaw forward and backwards. Not just his kingdom’s but all the ones surrounding them, too. He spent night after night in the father’s office, slumped down in a chair asleep with papers and books on his lap only to be awoken by a heavy boot kicking his chair hard enough the wood legs shook and threatened to cave under the pressure and Bucky’s weight. Bucky wasn’t a little kid anymore. He reminded his dad of that fact. Bucky told him the legs were going to give out one of these times and George would be sorry. He’d be sorry when his heir had a concussion from falling onto the brick floor. 
George reminded him, they always had Steve if things with Bucky ever went south. It was a shitty thing to say and wasn’t even half true. Yes, they took Steve in when his mom died. Cancer. Steve was only twelve when he lost her and there was no way Bucky would let his best friend be alone after something like that. He promised Sarah he would look after Steve and that was just what Bucky did. Steve has always been treated as his brother, as part of their family. Bucky loved him like his blood and if anyone thought to question Steve’s position, his place within the Barnes household or his relation to the crown George was the first to set them straight. Well, first once Bucky had calmed down and quit yelling. Regardless of everyone’s affection for Steve, Bucky knew George wanted Bucky to succeed him when the time came. Not because he didn’t love Steve, or because he wanted his bloodline on the throne— that one might be partly true— despite his less than warm parenting towards Bucky and Rebecca, George loved his kids very much and since Bucky was a little boy, George has always said he believed Bucky would do great things one day if given the chance. 
The alpha had a strange way of showing it. Bucky supposed, he wouldn’t truly understand the things his father has had to go through until he took over, walked a mile in his shoes and all that. Maybe then he will see that George did the best he could with what he was given. Or that’s what his mother keeps telling him anyway. Either way, it was a relief to be away from them and Bucky knows he shouldn’t find this much enjoyment in solitude, but he was so relieved when his parents told him to take Steve and Sam and get away for a little bit. One last summer to have some fun with brothers, forget his upcoming nuptials and just be himself; not king or clan alpha. He didn’t have to be a leader or someone that his people looked up to. He could simply be Bucky. 
It sounded like a fuckin’ dream and Bucky planned on enjoying every damn second. 
That’s exactly what Bucky was doing. Enjoying the moment. Regardless of what Sam and Steve thought about his current activities or company. Bucky’s knees sank a good inch into the sand, covering the little bit of thigh that was peeking out from his navy swim trunks. Pink painted nails scratched down his chest, leaving red marks in the wake, but he didn’t care. He chased the pretty beta’s lips as she pulled away, taunting him with a sultry swipe of the tongue to her bottom lip drawing him in for more. That silly grin on his face only grew when she pulled away at the very last second, giggling and rushing off towards the water. She was hoping Bucky would chase after her, that was obvious by the exaggerated wiggle to her hips and the not-so casual gaze over her shoulder as she sunk down into the water. Bucky tore his gaze from the gleaming droplets rolling down her bare back and looked back at Steve and Sam, grinning widely at the annoyed and slightly disappointed glares he was getting. 
“Y’know,” Steve started with a roll of the eyes when the young redhead called Bucky’s name for the third time. He had to grab Bucky by the chin and force the alpha to keep his eyes on him and not on the tempting view a mere twenty yards away. “When your parents suggested this little trip, I don’t think your mother meant, take up residency in a brothel for a month and sleep with anyone that calls you pretty.” 
Bucky yanked his chin out of Steve’s grip and pushed him back into the sand, laughing at the look of feigned annoyance on Steve’s face when Sam snarkily muttered, “I told you so.” 
“I want to have a little fun before I resign myself to a lifetime of misery. Give me a break Stevie.” 
Not all arranged marriages were like that, of course. Bucky knew that and knew Steve was going to make that point any second now. It’s been a week since they found themselves alone on the coast, and Steve’s only mentioned it twice. So it was overdue really. Deep down under all the annoyance, Bucky knew Steve was trying to help with all that crap. None of that really made Bucky feel any better. He’s known the omega he was going to marry since he was six, his mother said it would help to know who she was so the transition to mates would be easier. It wasn’t. He saw her portrait a handful of times. They never even spoke until recently and that was only a few letters preparing for her arrival. Her letters were formal. Bucky appreciated that. He didn’t know what he would have done if she arrived starry eyed and hoping for some fairytale that didn’t exist. There wouldn’t be a love story from their bond and Bucky was grateful they were on the same page. It didn’t make marrying a stranger any easier. 
It didn’t really matter in the end. Bucky’s unease. The importance of the match mattered more than Bucky’s discomfort. Lands were still divided and kingdoms refused to share their wealth and goods and everyone suffered from this level of mistrust and greed. They all needed to work together if they were going to keep them from becoming another Sokovia. No one wanted that to happen again, too many lives lost and homes destroyed. Bucky’s father has been working to repair the damage done by past war-torn decades and ignorant monarchs of the past. He wanted to make amends, heal and bring everyone together under one rule. Bucky’s marriage would help make that a reality. It would bond two kingdoms together by marriage and one day, hopefully, a shared bloodline. If they were willing to be honest with themselves, every clan needed this bond to work. It was a step towards peace and if this marriage would get everyone to accept a meeting to talk about the possibility of uniting, that would be the breakthrough they’ve all been waiting for. Bucky was willing to sacrifice his freedom and his true mate to make that happen. 
What were the chances true love and fairytales were real anyhow? 
“What if you like her? Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. Your parents were arranged and it turned out okay.” 
Fairly predictable Steven. As always. 
“Steve,” Bucky grumbled, unlit cigarette balancing between his lips as he spoke and brows furrowed as he fought the urge to push Steve over again. He was still shaking the sand out of his star-covered shorts and that was enough to make Bucky crack a smile. 
“I know you don’t remember, but they hated each other when they first met and it took decades for them to get to love.” 
Steve shook his head and waved his hand as if Bucky was making the whole thing up or it wasn’t as significant as Bucky was suggesting. 
“They still got there.” 
Yeah, they did. Minus the months they spent unable to look at each other and all the years they spent in silence. 
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to fight for twenty years only to settle into a comfortable convenience that feels something like love.” 
“That’s not an option. Your dad is king. Head alpha. You’re going to be clan alpha. It’s your responsibility to fix the divide and bring everyone back together-” The loud, slightly obnoxious groan that left Bucky’s lips had Steve’s words drowning in the background and before he could start up again once the silence settled, Bucky cut in, putting an end to the discussion. For today at least. 
“Steve. I know all this okay? Why do you think I begged and begged for this? After this, I’ll marry her, bond and do all the shit I have to do but I want this one last moment that’s entirely mine. Is that so bad?” 
Steve opened his mouth and Sam shushed him before he ever got a word out. Sam has been a little more understanding this trip. Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve was really sore with him or if he was worried if Bucky bolted, he would have to shoulder those responsibilities and marry some random omega he didn’t love. He couldn't blame Steve for dreading that. He’s known his path since he could walk and he still hated it. Sam slung his arm around Bucky's shoulder and shook his head at Steve who rolled his eyes in return. Bucky was starting to like having Sam on his side for a change.
“Nah, it’s not so bad, Buck. Let’s live it up before your life really turns to shit.” 
“Thanks. Thanks for the help Samuel.” Bucky chuckled and pushed Sam’s arm off his shoulder and forced himself to his feet, looking towards the northern end of the beach. Sam followed his gaze and cleared his throat, causing Bucky to tear his dreamy gaze from the shore and back to them. 
“There’s a party tonight at the little place a few miles up. The traveling-”
“The fair set up on the northern beach?”
Sam got to his feet and yanked the cigarette from Bucky’s mouth, tossing it into the bag they were using for trash. He really hated being cut off and when Bucky smoked even more. “Yeah, the fair that follows the coast. One of the girls working there said they had music, games and omegas drink free. You wanna have a little fun? That’s where fun is gonna be tonight.” 
Bucky glanced at Steve who threw his hands up in forced agreement and Bucky grinned. 
“Yeah, alright. Let’s do it. Think we can get your sister here by tonight-”
Sam stuck his finger in Bucky’s face making Bucky’s grin turn sheepish and his own features turned deadly serious. 
“I’ll break your neck.” 
“What? She loves music and free drinks!” 
“I’m serious. I’ll drown your ass.” 
“No you won’t. You think I’m adorable.” 
“Head alpha or not, you touch my sister and you’re done for.” 
Bucky threw his head back and cackled loud enough to be heard several miles down the beach.
“Alright, children,” Steve sighed. “Let’s settle down. The night is still young. Plenty of time to kill each other before the night is over.”
“Pietro says he may have found somewhere for us to go.” 
Y/n looked up from the evening's playlist in her hand at the sound of Wanda’s voice and frowned as she processed her friend’s words. She hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe she should have. It was only a matter of time really. Not everyone was made for a nomadic lifestyle. Y/n wasn’t sure she was really cut out for it but it was better than where she was. At least here, she could make her own choices and live the life she wanted, not one someone forced on her. 
“Somewhere safe. He spent the day talking to one of the high ranking council members and apparently they are very accepting. In fact, he said that their king hoped one day we all would be under one rule living together. Can you imagine that?”
"You want that? You want to leave all this behind to live in some strange alpha’s kingdom? Follow their laws and be tied down?” Y/n asked with a chuckle but it was hollow and her nose wrinkled. She couldn't imagine the thought of living with a bunch of strangers who you were supposed to trust without any real reason to. The only thing close to a family that she knew was Wanda and Pietro. It would be hard to lose them, but would it be harder than losing her freedom? Y/n doubted. 
After fleeing the kingdom they were born in, Wanda and Pietro have talked of nothing else. They want to find a permanent home where they can settle down and truly feel safe. Not a traveling camp that follows the road and coin. Y/n has listened to Wanda talk about starting a family one day for years now. Days on end of talks of dreams and family and a home with no wheels. She wants an Alpha and twins some day. So they will always have each other the way she has Pietro. She shouldn’t be surprised they finally found a kingdom worth settling down in. It still made her heart hurt and her stomach burn with uncertainty for them both. 
“To have a family again? People you can rely on? People who love you? Yes. Of course I want that. We aren’t meant to do this alone.”
Y/n nodded in understanding because she truly did understand where Wanda was coming from. It simply wasn’t for her though. Not anymore. A younger version of her perhaps. A less jaded, more naïve version of herself. Unfortunately, the omega she was now, didn’t allow for childish notions and foolish daydreams. 
“I don’t think I could do it again,” Y/n whispered. Even through the thumping of the music she knew Wanda heard her by the way her eyes softened a fraction. She didn’t want pity. It made the nerves she was feeling simmer and boil over into anger. Not all alphas were bad. Y/n knew that. She’s heard stories of other kingdoms with kind leaders. Stark, Odinson and a few others, they were kind and those without a clan flocked there, hopeful gleam in their eyes as they asked for refuge and possibly a permanent home. Y/n knew all about them. She’s also been witness to the less kind clans. Ones that operated with old customs and outdated hierarchies. The small kingdom she was born to, Cerberus,  was home to a man that was only kind when it suited him. Y/n has been victim to more than her fair share of alpha power and abuse. She had no interest in tying herself to another clan and another alpha that would seek to serve only himself. As if Wanda knew what terrible thoughts were plaguing Y/n, Wanda placed her hand on top of Y/n’s and squeezed it gently.
“Not everyone is like Billy,” She spoke softly enough that those around them wouldn’t catch onto Y/n’s secret. “Pietro said they are heading back at the end of summer and if we go with them we would have to leave then. Give it some thought. You could come with us.” 
“I’ll think about it. I promise,” Y/n muttered quietly, pouting as she did and Wanda laughed.  She laughed but let the topic fade into the background. Yn didn’t talk about Billy often, when she did it usually soured her good mood for the evening and Wanda didn’t want to darken Y/n’s night. Not when she had been so excited to have the night off and she deserved to have a little carefree fun after everything she’s been through.
Y/n dropped the list of songs on the temporary bar they set up this morning and spun around to the sea of people dancing. The dance floor was one of those snap together floors that vendors carried to outdoor venues. They didn’t always need it but at locations like this, near the beach or somewhere mainly outdoors, they had to create the right atmosphere to draw people in. Y/n liked to watch the semi-drunk people attempting to dance on the slippery fake wood that was covered in sand thanks to the movement on and off the floor. She wasn’t much for dancing but she did like to laugh at all the alphas tripping over all the omegas swaying their hips and batting their lashes. It was half ridiculous and for a dumb reason she didn’t want to admit, the sight left a twinge in her chest.  
The heady smoky, cedar scent catches her attention, she searches the crowd for the source when she spots someone across the dance floor — a golden skinned, long haired Alpha clearly searching for someone of his own. His icy blue eyes landed on her and he grinned, sending a shiver through her. Her hand found its way to her neck, without thinking, and she could see the alpha’s eyes sparkling at the gesture. He had been searching the room for her. She didn’t know why she did that. She’s never been one of those omegas. Then again, she’s never had an alpha that looked like him, staring back at her the way he was. 
He slowly pushed through the crowd of party goers and she found herself pushing off the bar walking towards him, ignoring Wanda’s calls for her to come back and despite telling her feet to turn around and go back where it was safe. Or at least stop at Pietro’s booth to tell him who she was meeting so he could keep an eye on her. Neither of them stopped though. Not until they were face to face, standing in the middle of the dancefloor. There were two larger alphas standing off to the side watching them with interest and shouting something she couldn’t make out while she was drowning in the gleaming blue of his eyes. The man in front of her flipped them off without looking away and she laughed. He grinned at her as if he was completely enamored by her and they haven’t even spoken. The alpha leaned forward to shout over the music and chatter around them, “I’m Bucky. What’s your name?” 
She told him her name and the whimper that left his lips made her stomach flip.
“You smell good,” Bucky groaned and immediately threw his head back, obviously mad at himself and slightly embarrassed judging by the crimson shading his cheeks. “I know that sounds like some knothead alpha line. I’m sorry. I caught your scent the second we got here and I had to find you.”  
It was a cheesy line. One she’s heard a few times but it felt different coming from him. It didn’t make her stomach twist with something ugly or make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and he’s the only alpha to say it and seem genuine. 
“It’s okay. So do you.” 
Bucky practically beamed and Y/n melted at the sight. She meant it, too. He did. A deep cedar scent that made her chest warm. There was something else she couldn't place under all that. Maybe a hint of cherry in there. Whatever it was, it was sweet and she liked it. 
“Yeah,” she repeated dumbly, grinning like a fool to match the dopey smile Bucky was wearing.  
“Wanna dance with me?” 
Gods did Y/n want to, but she didn’t dance. She didn’t exactly have two left feet but she wasn’t going to draw in her true mate with the moves she was sporting on the floor. Bucky tilted his head to the side and gave her a pleading smile with wide eyes, set for begging if needed. Y/n shoved his shoulder and Bucky caught her hand. He said something about not needing to worry when he pulled her close. He would make sure she only crushed two or three of his toes. As if he already knew her that well, like it was so easy for him to read her that he knew her trepidation came from her own lack of skill and not from fear of him.  
They danced for a while, to whatever came on. It didn’t matter if it was fast or slow, romantic or silly. They stayed on the sandy wood floor, hands on skin every chance they got and shouting questions back and forth over the music. Favorite color? Red. Favorite season? Winter. True mates? For kids but a nice thought. Last time you bathed? You sayin’ I smell? Your Worst trait? Stubborn and I can be a little bit of a flirt or so I’m told. Biggest regret? Letting once in a lifetime slip by. They danced and talked for so long that the songs came and went, slowly drifting from one to next. She didn't know how many they listened to but her legs felt numb. They tingle a bit and her ankles were sore from her shoes, knees weak from the way he was staring at her. All of that was nothing compared to the way they caved when Bucky leaned in, pausing just before her lips to make sure he was reading this right. Just because an omega scents interested, didn’t mean she wanted to be kissed or held like this. Y/n did. Bucky caught on fairly quickly when her hands slipped into his curls and she tightened her hold on the delicate strands tickling the back of his neck and nudged him that last inch and when their lips touched, he swore he saw sparks.
Soft lips brush against her, eager and willing. Their kiss was languid, as if they were searching for something more than this. Bucky’s right hand came up to cradle her jaw, his left pressing against the small of her back and urging her against him so he could envelop her by his arms. The moment his tongue parted her lips, she sank into him and gripped his biceps to steady her unsteady legs. It was slow. Intense. Y/n could feel it with every beat in her chest, she didn’t know how long they kissed for but when Bucky pulled back just enough to take a break the song had changed to a much slower beat. 
“Ah, shit,” Bucky whispered against her lips. There was an unspoken question of concern in her eyes, wondering if she had done something wrong or gone too far and that definitely wasn’t the cause of Bucky’s hesitancy. Bucky kissed her a few times too many and took another grounding breath. 
 “You’ve got my head spinnin’. Just need a minute to catch my breath s’all.” 
Not that a minute would make a whole lot of difference. There was no going back now. Bucky knew when he caught her scent she was different and after having her on his lips, he was sure of it the moment he claimed her lips; she claimed him the second they touched and they were both in deep, deep trouble. 
Masterlist // Next
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sj-ficrecs · 3 months ago
What I’ve been reading and enjoying lately, as usual, no specific order. :)
If you’re new, this is a just a fic rec blog where I reblog all the fics I’ve been reading/enjoying! Mostly Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, Sebastian x reader, maybe a few others occasionally. 
Divider by @whimsicalrogers​ :)
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Bucky x reader:
Mess Is Mine by @scrumptious-delusion​ Boxer!Bucky x reader
“as a date night surprise your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago, and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.”
Sweet Eyes by @houseravenclaws​ high school!Bucky x high school!reader
“in which bucky wants to take you on a date and you keep saying no. good thing, he doesn’t give up on what he wants.”
(Un)cool by @belowva​ Rockstar!Bucky x journalist!reader
“in the summer of 1973, after covering the howling commandos’ concert for a night, you - a young and inexperienced music journalist - accidentally end up following the up and coming band from new york city across the country. between shows, parties, backstage nonsense, interviews and failed attempts at writing a cover story for rolling stone magazine, you end up developing a love/hate relationship with their brooding, but devilishly handsome, guitarist james “call me bucky” barnes. (based on “almost famous”)”
I Like You by @deaan​ College!Bucky x reader
“they say that there are five stages of having a crush. This is the story of how Y/N goes through each of them while harboring a crush on the popular nerd-slash-jock at her college, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes”
Pour Some Sugar on Me by @buckycuddlebuddy​ Rockstar!Bucky x virgin!reader
“you were hypnotized. his handsome face was contorted with such emotions, he was so lost in the music, lost in the instrument, and it was mesmerizing to watch.”
Dirty Paws & Wet Kisses by @sunshineandaisies​ Modern!Bucky x reader
“Holy shit, your dog led you to the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.
The stranger took note of you before you had a chance to say anything, and he raised his brow at you while angling his face away from Hazel’s kisses. “Does this belong to you?” he asked, pinching the tags on Hazel’s collar between his thumb and two fingers. “Hazelnut Mocha.” He snorted. “Is that your dog’s name or your Starbucks order?””
I Saw You and I Knew by @sinner-as-saint​ Biker!Bucky x reader
“You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to.”
Construction worker!Bucky asking you out by @angrythingstarlight​
Based upon an ask about Beefy construction worker Bucky trying to ask you out on a date. 
Fairground by @softlybarnes​ Bucky x reader
“The reader and Bucky go to a summer carnival. Bucky is determined to win a prize for the reader.”
The Mess by @sanguineterrain​ Bucky x Avenger!reader
“A wild night in Vegas changes everything between you and Bucky. Suddenly, all eyes are on you and you’re left wondering just how much can change between you and a man whose guts you hate (and who also hates yours).”
The Football Player by @sunny-reys​ College!Bucky x reader
“Based on this request: “Bucky is a football player and you are a fan of the team but you’re also really shy. Secretly Bucky also developed a crush on you. He sees you getting mocked by some idiots and he gets in between to stand up for you. Later then he asks you for a walk and he kisses you.”
Sprinkle of Cinnamon by @forever-rogue​ Bucky x reader
“Another dull day at your coffee shop turns much better when an unexpected visitor becomes your favorite regular.”
Troublemaker by @jurassicbarnes​ Bucky x reader
“In which you thank Bucky in your own wonderful way. He kinda loves it.”
Find Me by @wicked-mind​ Bucky x reader
“Bucky finds his peace with Sam in Louisiana after dealing with the Flag Smashers. But when nightmares of a woman he can’t remember start haunting him, he has to find the reason why.“
Fool For You by @baroquebucky​ Bucky x reader
“bucky just wants to be with you forever“
Softcore by @kaitkat​ College!Bucky x reader
“You transfer to NYU in the beginning of sophomore year after getting an internship at Stark Industries. You needed a fresh start and it was the perfect opportunity. You meet your new roommates and immediately get along, they adopt you into their friend group. They're an unlikely bunch, but one of them catches your attention, Bucky Barnes. The two of you instantly click, but an amazing first day in New York quickly comes to an end. You try to forget about it, but it's not as easy as you want it to be. The fresh start isn't all you hoped it would be. Does a new city mean a new romance? Or does it mean new heartbreak?”
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Sebastian x reader:
Three Days by @revisionaryhistory​ Sebastian x reader
“Sebastian picks up more than just chocolate chips at the grocery. A lot can happen in three days.“ 
Lost in Your Eyes by @multifandomwriter​ Sebastian x actress!reader
“You and Sebastian have been dating for a few years, since you met during the filming of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. While it’s adorable that you both are still in the honeymoon phase, it can get you in trouble when you get too distracted by each other at a panel at Comic-Con”
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shurisneakers · 6 months ago
harmless (v)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, ghosts, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, rats
Word count: 2.3k
A/N: why did i like this chapter sm someone explain. anyway!! y’all are so passionate about these two i love it mwah
if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part || Series Masterlist
He dislikes the subway. 
Other than his other valid reason to have disdain for trains, the subway is dark, it’s shady and he’s sure he’s seen rodents fight to the death here on several occasions.  
Still, he’s following you down the stairs of the station, watching as you whistle along to the song blasting through your headphones. There’s a backpack swung over your shoulders, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie and converse doing a skip every now and then. There’s a bandana that’s tied across your face, acting as a mask to hide your identity. 
He realises that you’re dressed like a commuter. Were you going to dress the part every single time?
You walk along with the crowd. He follows, a few feet away.
Until you stop. He abruptly stops too, leading someone to walk right into him. 
“Watch it, dumbass,” they hiss with the courage of someone who has no idea who he is. He ignores them. 
He looks on as you dig around your backpack and pull out a roll of paper. A poster, he realises soon when you peel off a layer from the back and press it to the wall. 
Was it legal to put up posters in the subway? He wasn’t quite sure. 
He observes as you turn around and continue down the path. He waits a few seconds before trailing up to the poster.
Volunteers needed!
If you’re interested in being turned into a ghost for a couple of hours, this is your chance! Should be okay with being on camera so that we can make money off of taped paranormal sightings.
Paid opportunity. You get to pick your outfit. Randos don’t apply.
He yanks the poster of the wall before continuing down the same place you did.
He finds another poster along the way. He doesn’t hesitate in pulling it down. You were advocating to kill people. 
He knows he’s going in the right direction because more posters creep up along the wall.
The both of you are on the platform by now but to him, something changes about the placement of the posters. They were growing in frequency, the distance between them decreasing as they were situated close to each other.
He pauses in front of the next one, hand hovering over the paper.
All it reads is ‘STOP’.
He furrows his eyebrow, pulling it down before peering over at the next one.
‘TAKING’, is all that it says.
It doesn’t take him very long to make his way through all the posters in the hallway. 
The train’s arrived by now but a quick scan over the crowd and he knows that you haven’t entered. That, and he knew that you were too dramatic to leave without a trace or a small conversation with him. 
Tasteful, he thinks. 
“It took effort to make them, stop ruining it,” you whine from the end of the hallway. It’s empty, given that rush hour was over a while ago. 
Even though the mask covers half your face, it’s obvious that there is mischief etched under it. The twinkle in your eye is telling. 
“You’re literally killing people.” He holds up the poster. Not the ‘dickhead’ one. He pockets that for later. 
He knows there are a few minutes before the next train arrives and more people flood the station. The eccentricity of today lay in the lighting from the incandescent lamps and acoustics of the platform. It made his voice echo like a movie scene. 
“I very much am not,” you huff. 
“You’re turning them into ghosts. That’s what a murderer does,” he says pointedly. 
“Well, only if you keep saying it like that. You’re making me look bad.” You cross your arms across your chest. “What are you, Fox News?” 
A scurry next to him earns his attention. Two rats nibble at a piece of fallen food. He wonders when they’ll starting brawling. 
“Explain this.” He waves the poster around. He isn’t taking it too lightly he hopes. If it’s actual murder then it’s going to be an issue. 
You pull out a black cylinder, slightly bigger than a pen. He can’t really see any more details, but you hold onto it like a wand. 
“I’m turning them into ghosts. I’ll post videos of them doing stupid shit. I get famous and then boom, cash money.” You rub your index finger and thumb together. “I’ll give you a share if you volunteer.”
“You’re not explaining the death part.” 
He can feel it. You’re about to start derailing. 
“Winter Soldier, the ghost story. Literally.” You grin, yanking down the mask from your face to prove it. It pools around your neck. “That’s so funny, c’mon, it’d be amazing.”
It’s been years since he’s heard that. Never in this context. 
“No,” he says sternly, “and I’m going to have to bring you in if you’re going to kill people.”
The rats were ignoring everything that was going down like the hardened criminals that they were. They had probably seen worse. He can’t stop paying attention to them.
“I’m not killing them, bro.” You raise your hands in exclamation. “I’m just moving some molecules around, some frequency shit. They’re alive, just ghosts.”  
He’s always been one for science. Straight As throughout high school, attended science conventions as a hobby, alive even at 100 through some mad experimentation, definitely seen some weird shit during his lifetime. 
But this doesn’t make sense.
“No,” he repeats. “Give me the thing.”
“Fine, I’ll show you.” You roll your eyes. “Since you have absolutely no faith in me.”
He does a quick review of his surroundings. 
No one’s around, which is good. 
But that just leaves him in front of you, which is bad.
“Don’t you even thin-” he starts, muscles tensing as he shifts into a defensive stance.
You whip out the little pen thing from beside you but before he can react you turn around and duck. 
The click of a button releases a bright light, small but intensely stronger than the fluorescents in the station.
He reels back, feet carrying him away from where you’re crouched. His eyes quickly look down at his body. 
Nothing’s changed. 
He lifts his hand to check, runs it over his face. Still alive. He thinks.
“Behold,” you declare, “Ghost rat.”
He looks to where you’re pointing. The two rats from earlier were still nibbling on their food but something was off about them. 
He could see the faint outline of the tiles on the wall behind them, almost like they were... translucent.  
You aimed at the rats, not him. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at the fake threat.
He watches as they move. They don’t look hurt or injured.
“Cool, huh?” you say smugly. 
He can’t stop staring at them. 
“Bring them back.”
“They’re fine, look how abstract it is.”
“Bring back the rats.” He can’t believe this is what his life has come to.
Bucky Barnes, Rodent Protector.
You aren’t fazed by his indifference, instead wonder filled eyes gaze at the animals. “Astral mice, sarge. Embrace the miracle of modern science.”
“You killed them.”
“They’re alive, they’re just ghosts.” You raise a finger to point. “Look, they’re still eating. Biological functions are still taking place.” 
 Which was true. But still. He doesn’t know what is going on.
“Bring them back to... non-ghost alive.” 
“You sure you don’t want one? That one kinda looks like you.” One hardened glare after you realise the answer. “Jeez, alright then.”
You dig through your bag before pulling out a matte black replica of your current invention. 
“Sexy colours, right?” You hold them up. “I modelled them after your arm.”
He looks down. Sure enough the gold and black matched his cybernetic limb. It was oddly flattering. 
“Say thank you, Y/N, for letting me be your muse-”
“Un-ghost the rats.” 
“Ungrateful,” you narrow your eyes at him. 
Still, you comply with his demands, ducking down to their level again.
A click of the button, a bright light and the rats are back to normal. Non-transparent normal.
“Okay, give me that.” He takes a step towards you. 
“Nuh uh.” You pull your arm back. His mouth twitches at your response; what are you, five?
The black one is stuffed back into your bag but you wave around the gold like a threat. 
He sighs, making a pass for it. In a second his arm is twisted and shoved against his back, forcing him to spin so that he’s facing away from you. His eyes widen.
What the fuck?
“Now we’re having a good time,” you whisper into this ear. 
He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist to rotate his own out of your grip. 
“Since when can you fight?” he asks.
“Are we getting to know each other now?” You raise your leg to give him a semi gentle kick in the side, using his momentary distraction in blocking it to give him a knock on the head with your free hand. “This is so romantic, sarge.”
There’s a low rumble in the distance and he knows the train would soon start pulling into the station. It was still a distance away, but his heightened senses warned him that it wouldn’t take much time. 
He groans. How much longer would he have to go at this?
He could easily win this fight and he knew it. But something in him itched, pulled him back from doing it.
He blocks another attempt at his head. “Stop that.”
You grin. “You know what’d be fun?”
He knows you’d reply even if he didn’t encourage it. The lights from the train light up the tunnel around the corner. 
“This.” You don’t give him a second to recover before you flick your wrist away from him.
The device flies out of your hand and right onto the track. The both of you watch, you in glee, he in horror, as the train runs right over it, unleashing the brightest light he had ever seen. His eyes shut instinctively before it blinds him.
He forces himself to pry open his eyelids, look at the damage caused. 
The train, sure enough, is translucent. He can see the posters on the other side of the platform through the carriage, through various people holding onto the poles for support or seated on the seats.
“Ghost train!” you cheer. He’s mortified.
“Fuck no,” he mumbles, yanking the backpack off your shoulder. He rummages through it, looking for the gold version.
“You lookin’ for this?” you ask nonchalantly, holding it up in your hand like it isn’t the solution to stopping a bunch of ghosts from wandering around New York. 
“Turn them back.” He gives you a chance. 
“Do it yourself, coward.” You grin, holding it above your head. The train is going to stop and he needs everyone to be alive and non-ghost before they leave.
He doesn’t wait this time, instead turning to you. The thing is still held in your grip above your head. He rolls his eyes, doing a quick assessment before grabbing your free hand, tugging you closer and plucking the device out of your hand before you have the opportunity to retract it.  
“Great, now figure out which button to press.” You’re dangerously close to him. He can feel your hoodie brush against his tactical jacket. “Also if you wanted to be all pressed up against me, you could have just asked.” 
He furrows his eyebrows, letting go of you as you give a loud laugh. He looks down at the device. It has several buttons, littering up and down the side. Each look the same. 
The train’s slowing down. 
“They’re both the same device; this version is not a magical solution to the other one. If you press the wrong button then both of us are going to be fucked.”
The last carriage is getting closer. 
“Say I win this round and I’ll fix it.” 
There’s a gleam in your eye. He knew this was exactly what you wanted. 
He wishes he was as stubborn as Steve, just run through each button until the right one worked.
“You win this one.” He hands it back. He wasn’t like Steve and judging by the number of items the idiot jumped out of planes without a parachute on a daily basis, Bucky was glad about it. At least Bucky did it sporadically.
“Yay, two each for the both of us, then,” you say, taking it from him and twisting, eyes running down the sides. “Close your eyes, old man, or else your cataract’s gonna get worse.”
Right as the train pulls to a stop, you press down on the button before throwing it and the blinding light that emanates from it. It lands on the top of the train right as the doors open. 
The passengers start stepping out. Some of them are looking at their hands and legs in a little disbelief, most just push through the crowd to leave.
He can’t see through them. It’s a good sign. 
He turns to look at you but you’re not there. Instead, the weight of the small device weighs down in his pocket.
The sound of a thud on glass draws his attention. 
He looks up at the train. The window of the carriage in front of him has a bit of fog on it. You trace a heart in the condensation and blow him a kiss before pulling your mask back on.
The train starts moving, leaving him alone in the platform again with your invention.
He lets out an exhale, wandering outside to grab a sandwich before waiting to catch the next train to go home. 
Later in the evening, he catches hold of a bit of tape and the ‘Dickhead’ poster finds a place on Sam’s door. 
He doesn’t appreciate it.
So now it’s tucked away in the shelf of Bucky’s bedside table along with a freeze ray, a ghost-inator, and some discount Pym Particles. 
Next part
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healingchurch · 4 months ago
Fusion: Projection: Reflection, Part 1/?
Summary: When you get a call from Sam Wilson to help out on a “sensitive issue,” it’s the first time you’ve heard from anyone associated with the Avengers in a long time (a fact that you’re definitely not bitter about.) 
Zemo catches your eye in a way you can’t fathom, nor control.
Word count: 4966. A03 link.  PART TWO.
Zemo/Female Reader. Rated M, 18+ in subsequent parts is likely. No use of y/n, reader is a D-list Avenger with A-list powers. 
Warnings: Manipulation. Zemo’s a baddie. 
Thanks to the wonderful @ex0rin​​ for beta reading! Read her brilliant fanfiction here.
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It starts with a phone call- one that you consider sending to your voicemail.
But you pick it up anyway, countering your indecision with action. It isn’t every day you get a call from an Avenger, after all.
“Sam,” Your voice sounds a little weaker than you want, so you clear your throat. “It’s been a while. What’s up?”
You can’t stop the flood of nerves through your body, the conscious way you evaluate the tone of your voice. Do you sound casual enough? Can he tell you feel like it’s a little hard to catch your breath? You try to reason with your body and let it know there’s no need to be nervous. It’s just Sam. It’s just a phone call.
“I hate to call you for a favour when we haven’t spoken in so long, but…” Sam lets the words trail off. The indication is clear, without him having to say it. He needs your help in a professional capacity. This is not just a phone call. 
Your hands feel clammy.
“What, is Ant-Man busy?” You ask, attempting to joke. Sam doesn’t answer immediately, a pause that says all too much.
“This is, a uh… sensitive situation. And we need someone who can get here like soon. Like, now,” A headache is already starting to bloom in your right temple, which you rub gently as you sigh. “Having someone like you around would really give us a leg up.” Of course, he needs you for your abilities.
You chew on your lip, debating internally. This is the first you’ve heard from Sam- from anyone- in months. Following Tony’s funeral, the contact from the Avengers (and associated) had tapered off into silence. You ignore the nagging bitterness that wells deep down inside of you.
You make a list in your mind. Pros: you get to see (and even interact with) other living human beings again. You maybe even make some friends and really become properly accepted as an Avenger this time. Sam was always nice to you. Cons: Death much more likely? Horrible nightmares? Government finds you and tries to run experiments on you again?
As if sensing your apprehension, Sam adds in, “We could really use someone else on our team here. But it’s your decision. I know these things are dangerous, so I don’t blame you if you want to sit this out.”
Your desire to be accepted wins out. “Alright, hold on. Keep the call going,” You say, resigning yourself to doing this as you close your eyes and focus.
The phone call is a link- a long distance connection between your point in space and Sam’s. It’s a thread that connects you across thousands of miles, a bright line that you can fold in on itself like a piece of string to make a jump to the other end.
Reality begins to shift around you as you focus on the connection, curling in on itself and shifting to make room for your travel. You don’t know how it works, exactly, but you’ve never needed to know.
As you take a step forward with your eyes still closed, you think, far too late, that you probably should have changed. Or packed a bag. Or grabbed a weapon.
All it takes is a blink, and you’re there.
“That is never going to stop being weird,” Sam calls out to you, hanging up the phone as you step onto the hard concrete of a parking garage. You open your eyes to find yourself some 15 feet in front of him. Behind you, reality smooths back over, your gateway disappearing and leaving no trace of your travel.
You must have travelled a fair distance, because you’re left feeling nauseous. Taking a moment to collect your bearings, you take stock of your surroundings. You have no idea what country you’re in or what time it is here, but you can see a lot of very nice cars. Fighting back dizziness, you give a casual wave to Sam and Bucky, who you can see furrow his brow at you.
“You didn’t say you were calling in extra help,” Bucky remarks to Sam, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Neither did you,” Sam replies, and you feel as though some kind of unresolved issue has just flown over your head. Jamming your hands into the pockets of your hoodie (and really, you should have at least grabbed a jacket on the way out) you walk over to the pair. Being here now, seeing them in person, your anxiety has dulled.
“What’s this about a sensitive issue?” You ask, as a third man steps out from behind one of the vintage vehicles.
You’re first struck by a sense of vague familiarity, like he’s someone you should know, but can’t quite remember. His appearance isn’t striking like Sam’s, nor is he classically handsome like Bucky, but he’s immediately attractive to you. The man is wearing either a police officer’s uniform or a security guard’s, but it looks a little ill-fitting and out of place. There’s a smattering of stubble across his jaw, and his mouth quirks into a small, but mischievous smile. Like he’s about to let you in on a secret.
“This is Zemo,” Sam says through clenched teeth.
Zemo... Zemo? You suddenly realize why the man is familiar. When his intense, curious gaze falls on you, you feel as though you’re a butterfly being pinned into a display case.
“Oh, you blew up the UN!” You blurt out, and instantly regret it. Why did you say that? He appears almost sheepish.
“Helmut Zemo,” Zemo corrects, inclining his head toward you in a nod. “A pleasure. James felt that I would be an indispensable asset to the team. It seems Sam felt the same way about you.”
When he addresses you directly, you feel a completely inappropriate fluttering through your stomach, the kind of easy, instant interest that you haven’t felt in a long time. Smothering it as best as you can, you give Zemo a nod of greeting in return, and turn to address Sam and Bucky.
“So, this is why you wanted me to help out. You needed someone discrete, because you’re working with…” – don’t say ‘a terrorist’, he’s looking right at you – “…him. I’m guessing the prison he was in didn’t let you guys just walk out with him.”
“Funny you should mention that, because no, they didn’t.” Sam’s irritation is clear, and he glares at Bucky. Taking another look at the tension between Sam and Bucky, and Zemo’s words, you quickly put two and two together.
“What’s the plan?” You ask, trying to manage some of the tension.
“We’re headed to Madripoor, to connect with an old acquaintance of mine, in the depths of the criminal underbelly of the city,” Zemo says, taking the lead, “But first, to a safe house I kept not far from here. From there, I can grab what we’ll need to pull off this plan. And get cleaned up, of course.” He rubs a hand across his stubble. “It shouldn’t take long.”
You look at Sam, who looks at Bucky, who nods. Looks like you’re going along with Zemo’s plan for now. As Zemo heads toward the garage door, duffle bag in hand, Sam peers into the window of one of the cars. You’re starting to walk after Zemo when Bucky approaches you.
“Hey” He says, voice lowered as he walks beside you, “I didn’t mean to seem like I’m not grateful for you coming along to help earlier. Just caught me off guard. You been doing alright?”
Bucky’s always been a bit cold, but you recognized a commonality between the two of you. Whenever you spent time around the Avengers, you’d always felt a little like you were back at high school. They were the popular kids- cool, stylish, gorgeous, brilliant and charismatic. Frequently kind to you, in an uninterested way, often altogether self-absorbed. You’d gotten along better with some of the newer Avengers, like Scott and Sam and Wanda, but even they were funny, charming and sharp in a way that seemed to eclipse you.
You’d tried your best to fit in and be friendly and thought you’d managed well enough. You thought they’d all liked you, even if you weren’t that close to them. Until no one called you for months.
There she is, carrying the lunch tray. Looking for a place to sit in the cafeteria among a homeroom of Gods and icons.
You’d met Bucky briefly in Wakanda, and then again years later when he returned from the dust, at Tony’s funeral. You’d both been a bit uncomfortable going, and had chatted during the reception, recognizing a mirrored awkward introversion within one another.
But it would be a stretch to call you friends.
Shrugging, you answer nonchalantly. “Sure, not bad. I’ve been holding out. How about you?”
“Yeah. I’ve been alright.” The lies exchanged between you are understood to be just that, but neither of you want to dig into how you’ve really been. He’d definitely brush you off if you tried to get him to open up to you, anyway.
Suddenly Bucky stops you, his metal hand grabbing your arm. You stare at it, and then at him. He lets go.
“Listen, about Zemo,” Bucky says, keeping his voice down to ensure he’s not overheard, “It’s great we have another pair of eyes on him, but you’ve got to be careful. He’s good at getting under people’s skin, and he’s dangerous. More than he seems to be. You can’t trust him.”
“Trusting the guy who broke up the Avengers wasn’t exactly on my to-do list,” You reply, an eyebrow raised, “….You broke him out of jail, didn’t you?”
Bucky sighs, and then nods. “He’s a means to an end.”
Like me? The voice in your head suggests, before you can stop the thought.
“Well, I appreciate you looking out for me. But don’t worry,” Smiling at Bucky, you look back to where Zemo loads up the trunk of one of the vehicles. “I’m not so easily fooled. You guys need me here to help out, then that’s what I’m here for.”
Bucky nods again, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and as Zemo starts the car you teleport into the back seat, just because you can.
The safe house is not a safe house. It is a safe mansion.
“Okay, I’ll bite. I have no idea where we are,” you admit as you flop down onto one of the many plush chairs that decorate the parlour. There’s an almost vintage style to the furnishings, a Victorian flare that makes it clear that the owner of this place has money to burn.
You’re pretty sure you’ve jumped a time difference, but you couldn’t place any of the scenery on the drive to the safe-mansion. You take a wild stab at it: “Vancouver?”
“Way off,” Bucky remarks, smirking, and you frown. “Germany,” Sam reveals. You swear under your breath. And here you thought you’d been getting better at location-guessing.
Zemo heads upstairs quickly, presumably to get a change of clothes and a shower. As Sam and Bucky play a game of rock-paper-scissors to see who will head upstairs with him to make sure he doesn’t jump out of a window, you push yourself off the chair.
“I’m going to head out for a sec,” You say to Sam and Bucky, “I’ll pop back home and pack a bag, and then come right back. I’ll call you in about fifteen minutes?”
“Sounds good,” Sam says, grinning because he’s won the rock-paper-scissors match. As Bucky trudges upstairs, looking pissed, you close your eyes, focus, and take a single step back into your apartment.
The space is still, quaint and dark, almost four thousand miles away from where you’d been only seconds before. Outside your basement unit, you hear a horn blare as New York City traffic rages on outside. Rain beats against your window, and the glass pain shudders from the pressure of it, threatening to let in some of the water spill in. Home sweet home.
You close your eyes, and blink hard a few times to try to stabilize yourself. The room spins around you for a solid minute before you shake it off. It’s been a while since you travelled so far, so quickly.
On the drive, Sam had filled you in about the Flag Smashers and the super-soldier-sized havoc they were wrecking across the globe. You’d need utility clothes, some comfy track pants for the plane ride, pajamas, your toothbrush...
First, you take a quick shower to freshen up, and put on some basic makeup. Looking at yourself in the mirror for a long moment, you tuck some hair behind your ear. You look tired.
But also cute? You try to shake off the thought, but instead you think about how long it’s been since you’ve been with anyone, and your heart gives a painful little twist.
No time to waste. Tearing yourself away, you gather up some clothes, makeup, and pajamas to toss into a bag. You unplug the toaster, grab a jacket, and lock your door before you give Sam a call. It’s only a minute later that you’ve popped back into Zemo’s safe house in Germany, your stomach roiling.
“Fuuuck,” You groan, stumbling to sit on the ground with your head in your hands. Sam comes over to your side, concerned.
“Hey, you alright?” He asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. Through your vertigo and swimming vision you can see that he’s frowning, and you’re almost pleased to see he cares enough to worry. “I didn’t know it took a toll on you.”
You wave a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you say as you squeeze your eyes shut and press the palm of your hand against your brow. “It’s just far distances over a short period of time. I’ll be good in a minute.”
“I can imagine that bending space to travel thousands of miles in a second is enough to make anyone dizzy,” You look up at the sound of Zemo’s voice, his words carried by his smooth and rich, unmistakably Sokovian accent. Wincing, you let go of your head and watch as he makes his descent from upstairs.
Zemo has shaved off the layer of stubble which had coated his jaw and is wearing a purple sweater that looks like it’s made from the softest, most expensive material you’ve ever seen. He seems more relaxed and confident as he strides across the room, like he’s donned more than just a change in wardrobe and some, very, very good smelling cologne.
Bucky follows down the stairs behind him, looking annoyed. Zemo is either oblivious to Bucky’s mood, or actively ignoring it as he looks around the parlour, smiling in a way that displays clear satisfaction. His eyes settle on you.
“It’s just a bit of jetlag,” You joke, standing up only a little unsteadily. You adjust the duffle bag strap on your shoulder, surveying the group. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
You see Zemo’s eyes watching you, and the way they linger even after his smile fades and as he pulls out a cellphone, dials a number, and holds it up to his ear. It’s a noticeably older model- probably one owned before his lengthy period of incarceration.
He speaks a language you recognize but can’t understand- Sokovian. A few sentences later and he’s hung up the phone and reached to grab a large coat from the coatrack.
“Let’s go, then,” He says, shrugging on the fur-collared coat. It dwarfs him, but adds an unmistakably proud quality. “I’ve made the arrangements for our travel.”
“So all this time you’ve been rich?”
“I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before you and your friends destroyed my country.”
You’ve never ridden on a plane before, much less a private jet. But that’s what waits ahead of you as you cross the wide-open tarmac of the runway. The sun beats down on you, cool as it is out, and you stifle a yawn. With so much travelling back and forth within the last several hours, you could use a rest.
This was not how you’d pictured spending your day when you woke up that morning.
“You know, you don’t have to come with us on the plane. We can just call you when we land, right?” Sam points out to you. The words are casual and easy, “Between you and me, I’d skip the ride if I could.”
Sam’s probably just trying to save you trouble, but you have to make an effort to mask the disappointment you feel to keep it from showing on your face. He’s right, of course. There’s no real reason why you need to ride in the plane with them, besides a want for their company. It would be much simpler for you to pop back home, take a nap in your bed, and to wait for their call so you could just teleport to Madripoor.
You try to think of an excuse that sounds better than, “I want to hang out with you guys.” Surprisingly, you don’t have to.
“Come now Sam. It isn’t every day someone gets to ride on a private plane. Perhaps she would enjoy the view?” Zemo suggests, grinning as he catches your eye, and something in the look you share tells you that he’d caught on to your reluctance to be left behind. A surprise rush of gratitude fills you at his sensitivity.
“Unlike you Sam, we don’t all get to see the world from up high all the time,” you tease, truthfully excited to fly. “Besides, you brought me along to keep an eye on him, right?” You gesture to Zemo, glad for the moment for recovery that his interjection has afforded you.
“She’s got a point,” Bucky says, hands shoved into pockets of his jacket as he squints at the plane.
Sam shakes his head. “Hey, if you want to join us, be our guest. I was trying to save you from an overnight trip with these two.”
As Zemo embraces and speaks in Sokovian with an older man who you can only assume is his butler, you, Bucky, and Sam file onto the small plane. Despite the oak wood panelling, the interior of the plane is sleek and modern, with four cream-coloured chairs facing each other, and another two toward the back. It’s clean and comfortable. Each seat affords you a view out of a tiny window, so while Sam and Bucky take the seats facing each other to the left-hand side, you take the seat beside Bucky’s on the right.
Of course, this will leave you facing Zemo for the duration of the plane ride, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Despite Bucky’s warning, he’d been nothing but cordial so far. You didn’t trust him for a second, of course, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy speaking with him, right?
It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the way his voice makes you feel like you’re bathing in sunlight, or the way you get chills of nervous pleasure when he meets your gaze and smiles at you. Nope.
Zemo enters the plane with his butler, his coat curled over his forearm. He stashes it with the luggage and grabs a book before he takes the seat across from you, slipping into it as the butler heads into the cockpit. 
As the plane takes off, you can’t help but to press your nose to the windowpane and grin as the plane rockets along the runway and takes off into the sky. Watching the way that the ground grows more and more distant, you can’t tear your eyes away until the plane has settled into a level pace and slowed its ascent.
When you look away from the window, you catch Zemo watching you with a slight smile. The tips of your ears seem to burn as your eyes dart away from his face, looking anywhere else.
The butler- Oeznik, Zemo tells the three of you- brings out some champagne for Zemo as you begin to settle into the journey. You hope he comes back with snacks soon.
You’re not really paying much attention to the conversation, your gaze still on the clouds outside your window as you think about what kind of snacks the butler might bring, until Bucky hurls himself across the gap between you and Zemo to grab him by the throat. Jumping at the sudden movement, you look at Sam, alarmed.
“You touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky hisses, before he plucks his notebook back out from its place between the pages of the book Zemo had brought. You realize Zemo must have grabbed it from Bucky at some point while they were getting ready back at the safe house, but you couldn’t fathom how subtle he must have had to be to successfully steal it.
Sam thankfully diverts the conversation away from Bucky’s notebook, and you’re grateful that the tension seems to dissipate as the men talk about music. The tone nearly becomes lighthearted, but it doesn’t last. When Zemo turns the conversation to Steve, you can practically feel the friction between the men on the plane, crackling like electricity threatening to spark.
“The danger with people like him - America's Super Soldiers - is that we put them on pedestals. They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”
The four of you enter an uneasy silence. Pondering his point for a moment, you consider his view. You couldn’t deny that you understood where he was coming from, but that you felt that it would be hard to argue that there was no need for heroes at all. It leaves you conflicted. What kind of symbol will you become, if you keep working with the Avengers? Was it inevitable for a hero to become an icon?
“May I ask you a question?” Zemo asks. It’s directed toward you.
“Sure,” You reply, surprised.
“Why was Sam certain that you would not alert the authorities about my escape?”
Sam looks from you, to Zemo. “You don’t have to answer that,” He interjects protectively, frowning.
This is one of the first questions that’s been put to you in a long time that wasn’t about what you could do, and it’s a bit refreshing.
“No, it’s okay,” You murmur to Sam, fidgeting. You try to think of what to say, how you can explain what happened between you and SWORD and why it makes you want to avoid them as much as possible. No one’s really ever asked you to explain it before.
“Most of the people who work with the Avengers who have special abilities know where they came from. You know, there might be a serum, or they might be from another dimension, or an infinity stone exploded on them or whatever, right?” You start, noticing Bucky and Sam’s attention is focused on you as well.
“In those cases, there was some kind of triggering event that made them different,” You fiddle with the sleeves of your jacket as Zemo nods encouragingly. “I didn’t have that. I have no idea where my abilities come from. I was normal as a kid. And then one day, I could just sort of… do things. Like teleport.”
His interest in your answer is unwavering- he seems to hang onto every word out of your mouth, and it’s flattering. This is the most you’ve talked about yourself in a long time. Feeling a bit more self-assured, you continue.
“The Government and SWORD obviously wanted to find out how and why I can use these powers. I joined up just after Ultron, and before you… before the group schism, Tony convinced me I should let them run a few tests. A few turned into a lot. I listened to them for a while, stayed on-site voluntarily.  And then I’d had enough of the tests.” You give a little shrug, feeling a little disconnected from the story you’re telling, as if it wasn’t your own past that you lived.
“They wanted me to stick around, but I’m a pretty hard person to keep anywhere.” You smirk at that to yourself, “I don’t think we’re exactly on good terms, but they don’t seem to be actively coming after me. Although I guess they’ve had bigger things to deal with.”
You glance at Sam, who appears to be a little uncomfortable. There’s no way he doesn’t know most of this, although you were sure it’s been framed it to the Avengers as you, a mostly unknown variable, refusing to cooperate and assist. But he knows what it’s like to be on the run, and the strange limbo between being hunted and tolerated. Bucky is harder to read, though his expression is grim. “If I were to contact the authorities about you, there’s no way that SWORD wouldn’t get involved. And I’m still doing my best to avoid them.”
“Now that the dust has begun to settle, you’re worried that they may come for you again.” Zemo confirms. You give a motion that’s halfway between a nod and a shrug.
“I don’t think they have any authority to try to put me in the Raft or anything, but I’d rather not have them dogging me for answers I don’t even have,” You say.
Oeznik interrupts the conversation, bringing out little butter tarts and drinks for each of you this time. As you all eat, you relax, and it isn’t long before the silence between you is more comfortable than awkward.
Staring out your window, you find the hum of the plane to be relaxing. Travelling almost feels nostalgic to you now, something you perpetually associate with childhood. A bygone from the period of time before you developed the ability to teleport. Tired as you had been when boarding, you stay awake long past Sam and Bucky, who fell asleep beside you as the sun dipped from the sky.
Zemo cuts through your thoughts, his voice quiet but clear.
“It’s interesting,” he murmurs across from you, “How they underestimate you.”
You frown slightly. “What makes you think they underestimate me?” You ask him, looking at him directly, honestly curious for his answer.
“You’re more powerful than they know you to be, aren’t you?” He asks, but his voice is certain and nearly smug, like he already knows he’s correct. “You mentioned your abilities earlier. I believe they know you to have a singular ability- to teleport great distances.” He drums his fingers along his arm rest, his head tilting as he regards you. Every word seems to be carefully considered before he speaks it. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
It hits you like a home run. It knocks you out of the park. How quickly he’s picked up on something it had taken SWORD months to figure out.
That it’s not just teleporting. That you can bring others with you when you travel across the globe. That you can create barriers by twisting reality around you, to protect yourself and others from harm. That your abilities seem to be developing into new forms even now, with limits you haven’t even breached yet.
“I can’t blame you for keeping it hidden, of course. I’m sure that if it was common knowledge, many would plead and bribe and blackmail you to fight for their cause,” He hums. “But you would become a God among men. Like some of your friends.”
Friends. You wonder if he used the word deliberately as you grimace. “I’m fine with being a D-list Avenger,” you say, hushed in reply.
“Are you?” He asks. You consider the question, looking down at your hands. You don’t need to be adored. You don’t need, or even want, the attention of millions on you. You just want…
“Perhaps it’s not underestimated then,” He says quietly, as if he’s read your mind, “But rather… under appreciated.”
Something lodges in your throat. Zemo has stroked a raw nerve, hit it in a way that strikes into you to the centre. He watches you expectantly, and for one horrible moment, you worry you might start to cry.
Thankfully, you don’t. You look down, look away, and then back out the window to look at the dark expanse of the evening sky. Swallowing the lump in the throat, your mind grasps for a way to change the subject.
“What’re you reading?” You ask, gesturing to the book as you take a sip of your water. If he notices your clumsy attempt to change topics, which he almost certainly does, he doesn’t bring attention to it.
“Ah,” he says. “Das Nein In Der Liebe. Abgrenzung Und Hingabe In Der Erotischen Beziehung. The Open No in an Erotic Relationship, roughly.” You nearly choke on your water, and a wicked flash in his eyes suggests he’s enjoyed surprising you. Or perhaps he enjoys the way colour is flooding into your cheeks.
“Oh?” You ask, your voice a little too high.
“It’s a book by a well-known psychoanalyst which suggests that if lovers forget how to say no to one another, they will soon forget how to say yes. It’s about the importance of setting boundaries in your relationships, as you overcome the isolation of the individual and surrender to the relationship between you.” He passes the book across to you, which you take and look down at.
“I… see,” You say, flipping through a few of the pages. No pictures. You take another sip of your water, hoping to quench the sudden dryness in your mouth.
“You can keep it for a while, if you like,” He says, “Particularly as we will be playing lovers in Madripoor.”
This time, you do choke on your drink.
A/N: "In Peter Schellenbaum's Das Nein In Der Liebe, he explores three developmental stages in emotional relationships: Fusion, where the distinction between the two personalities is blurred; Projection, where the unconscious parts of oneself are erroneously cast onto the other, thereby separating individuals from each other and their surrounding; and mutual reflection of the guiding image, wherein the beloved becomes a guiding image reflecting previously unknown possibilities for loving."
Thanks for reading! More on the way soon ♥️
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thefanbasewhore · 2 months ago
T o x i c a t i o n
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summary: taken out of cryo with a mission at hand you and the winter soldier are sprayed with some kind of mysterious plant.
warnings: dub-con, smutty, 18+ content, minors DNI, sex pollen, spitting kink (idk if that's a thing)
paring: Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) x female reader
This is for @fuckandfluff 's writing challenge, I chose number 22. Toxic by Brittany Spears. If tags don't work I will have to repost - FYI
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"Sodlat." She warns, voice low and filled with venom. Her teeth clenching as he steps closer, gun slung around his shoulder and long forgotten but he still keeps his hand firm around the knife on his belt.
"It got under the mask." The soldier speaks and reaches behind his ear to discard to the face covering. Much like her own skin, his is flushed, heat creeps up the soldier's neck and warms his belly with an incurable hunger.
"Stay back." She hisses again, "It's the plant."
It happened so fast, one minute they're frozen in cryo and the next they're being sent on a mission on the middle of no where, together. The objective was to locate some documents from an abandoned HYDRA base overthrown by the Americans. It's not their first mission together, the two super soldiers have seen their fair share of battles and definitely not their last.
The plant had produced some type of red, warm powder that managed to puff both of them straight in the face. That leaves them in the middle of an abandoned lab, one all too familiar to the winter soldier.
"I can't help it." Even words are painful as he lays a hand on the front of his stomach, feeling the hardness of his muscles but trying to sooth the ache in his stomach. "I-It did something to me, I need to be close."
"Me too." She admits. Sweat beads both of their foreheads, throats drying as a shock of pain knocks her onto her knees.
Sodalt squeezes his eyes shut and the moment he takes a deep breath he wishes he never did. The sweet smell of vanilla and oranges, no doubt the shampoo she used only hours ago causes goosebumps to break through his skin.
"Come here." He beckons her close, extending an arm for her to hook onto him. With shaking legs she manages to stand and start her slow ascend. The moment the pair's skin touches Bucky's fingertips dig into the thick bicep of her arm and lifts her onto the table into seated position.
Bucky's torso parts her legs, cautious but wanting as a flat hand finds the apex of her quads, "I can't stop -"
Much like him, she never got a choice in what she wanted but this, this is something only both of them can control. "You can touch me, Sodalt."
It's instinctual, the way his tongue moves without little thought to taste the skin of her neck, to feel to rapid pulse underneath the flesh. With a harsh push her back meets the metal surface of the table. Open mouth kisses pressing along the skin but she's inpatient, hips lifting from the cold surface of the lab table to press against the thick hard line of his erection.
Bucky hisses at the sensation following the curl of her fingers that pierce through the skin of his back. "Please, I can't wait any longer. Need it, Soldat."
Something inside of him ignites, an endless flame to hear her say the words over and over again. It's filthy. Cool appendages press against the base of her neck, feeling the life beat underneath it. He squeezes it gently, a small test before a wanton moan makes his stomach flip.
She looks so... pretty like this. Flushed cheeks with equally wild eyes and messy hair spread across the table underneath them. The metal thumb runs along the side of her jaw, feeling the strong structure before reaching the dip of her chin to bring her eyes to his own. Bucky doesn't say anything, imitating to anyone but instead of feeling frightened but not her, she tries to clench her thighs together to create so friction to relieve the throb between her legs.
"Butterfly." The soldier whispers under his breath, the only name he's ever known for her, "I want you to look at me."
Unsure eyes resemble his own - someone, a different life hidden behind those wanting orbs. Brain scrambled just as much as his own except for one thing, "Stick your tongue out for me."
The way she obeys makes his heart thump inside the confides of his chest. He has to swallow - more like gulp as the words leave his mouth, "Good girl."
The pad of his false thumb presses against the fat of her tongue until her lips close around it and suck. The coolness trails down her tongue until her eyes water until he feels her throat tighten around the appendage.
It's been a decade since he's last touched a woman but somehow it feels natural, a part of his old life that lingers inside him. James Barnes is still in there, even if he doesn't realize it. A little bit of Bucky is slipping through the cracks of his mind.
"Open." Like putty in his hand she follows the command, a long strand of spit follows as he cups her jaw. The winter soldier doesn't say a word, he stares down at her, hand cupping her throat as he leans forward.
It's happens so fast - the way his lips pucker to collect saliva and spits it into her open mouth. A hand cups under her chin to clatter her teeth together, "Swallow, butterfly."
Bucky hums in appreciation, fingers slipping underneath the waist band of the tight tatical pants. He doesn't even need to feel to know she's wet, the heat and scent of her arousal fills the air around them and he's drunk on it. He decides not to waste anymore time, two large hands cuff the hem of her pants and pull them down to her knees.
The sight is enough to make his skin burn and a hungry urge fill his belly. Arousal smears the inside of her thighs and glistens across her sex, it drips onto the table and pools, no doubt a side affect of the mysterious powder.
Fed up and with a huff she uses her elbows to try and lift herself from the table but the large hand across her chest stops her and pushes her back onto the cold surface. The soldier isn't talkative, never has been, quiet but knows what he wants as two flesh fingers smear her wetness around.
The room has grown unbarebly hot as if it was possible the best could increase. Much like the temperature so did their appetite for each other. Despite her being a mewling mess it wasn't so hard to fight the urges for the winter soldier. He's had more discipline over the years but it doesn't stop him from rutting his hips against the table, his aching cock looking for release.
She curses something in Russian as fingers spread across her clit, and push against her hole to gather the the juices of her slick. It's unintentionally teasing, the way he slowly fills the gaping hole until he can't push his fingers any further. Inch by inch until her back arches from the table with a loud whine, thighs snapping together around his arm at the sudden intrusion.
The two fingers scissor against the silky walls, coat with her arousal that lubricate and make the next thrust of his wrist more impactful, hitting the spongy spot deep inside of her that makes her squeal. The winter soldiers groans - eyes squeezing shut to relish on how good she sounds.
With every thrust of his fingers, electricity shoots up her spine and sends shivers down her skin. He's so caught up in the pretty sounds she makes he doesn't realize he's been dry fucking himself into the table. The head of his cock peaks out from under the belt, pre-cum smearing the head and dripping out and onto his pants.
The skillful fingers never lead up, filling her again almost as soon as they leave. Even the winter soldier is surprised at the fact his hands are bringing her apart and for once not wrapped around a blade or a neck. A surge of confidence runs through him and his pace seemingly increases.
Flesh fingers curl deep inside and massage the deepest part of her, her own fingers coming down to wrap around his wrist and stop the brutal pace but instead the metal fingers find the skin. She expects to be pushed away and sushed but he brings her hand to his chest, feeling his rapid heart beat underneath the layers of leather and buckles. He speaks softly, "I'll make it better."
She nods, head rolling back to hit the surface of the table harder then they would both like. There's no time to think as a hand presses against her hip and with very little effort at all to flip her onto her knees, cheek resting against the cool metal. The winter soldier takes this time to really look at her - ass in the air, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing but on display for him only.
A hand travels down and feels the ripple of muscle underneath his shirt to unbuckle his belt, throwing it somewhere across the room and then follows his pants. He's left in a pair of black briefs and the leather top but the dire situation left no time to fully enjoy what could be.
A rough hand kneads over the flesh of her ass check and the other one rubs the gentle circles against the strong muscles of her lower back. A cry mixed with pain and admiration breaks goosebumps through his skin and sends a shiver down his spine.
Surprisingly he follows the urge to press a small kiss to the back of her neck. A large hand follows afterwards, feeling the grooves and prominences of her spine, feeling the dip until he's once again kneading her ass. "Stay down, little one."
He's silent, conniving and soaking up every part he can to commit it to memory. He presses himself into the woman, throbbing between her cheeks. The mix of heat and arousal that shears his balls makes him gasp, the sound is deep and beautiful.
Without much thought he pushes into her, the act alone is enough to hitch her breath. The pleasureable but burning feeling as the winter soldier stretches her pussy open. A small gasp falls from both of their mouths, eyes squeezing shut as another wave of heat fills their bellies.
He nudges deeper, humming as she jumps forward at the sensation but two hands keep her grounded and pull her back onto his cock. The first roll of his hips is purely experimental but he can't seem to stop.
He nestled so deep it's hard to breathe, the burn follows but mixes with a pleasurable sting of his metal digits digging to her hips. The flesh hand rests against the swells of her ass, he can't help but look down - the filthy site of her sobbing cunt swallowing him whole. The sounds coming from her lips, the begging it's all too much - sensory overload as a chill runs over his being and hands clench around the fullness of her hips.
Hips snap faster, never leaving the site of his cock disappearing into the silk opening, over and over again as his body tingles with pleasure.
With ever roll of his hips, his orgasm builds inside his stomach. He's loosing his balance, thighs shaking with immense pleasure as she angles her hips back to meet him. The sounds that fill the room are filled with moans and cries, tears of pleasure roll down her cheeks.
At this point the winter soldier is completely lost, feral inside of her pussy. Taking out every confusing flash of memory and frustration out in the only way he could. The way she reaches to cup her lower stomach, the bulge of his cock showing with every trust. It hurts but in a way she enjoys, this pain comes with choice made by only her.
The way her pussy swallows him and squeezes, silk and smooth as one final moan falls as her legs start to shake. The building orgasm snaps and the winter soldier feels a thick wave of heat coat his forehead and she leaks her orgasm all over his cock and abdomen.
"That's it." Bucky whispers under his breath, a memory much like this one slips through the cracks but it's different, one of his old life. "So good, petal."
Back arching to push him deeper inside of the shuddering pussy to hit that spot that makes hee cry as a hand rest against the small of back giving him a better angle to fuck her harder.
His stomach churns, a soaring heat building as white hot pleasure makes his skin hot. Thrust growing haphazardly forming a new messily pattern that makes his forehead drop between her shoulder blades. His body shakes, fatigued and fucked as black orbs fill his vision.
With one final hard trust he twitches inside, pumping his thick ropes of cum inside her velvet walls. He does dare move, she collapses under the weight as he huffs, resting his cheek against the sweaty skin.
But it's not over yet, she shifts her weight back onto him with want and the same firey feeling fills his groin again, instantly growing hard but he turns her around so he parts between thighs, gentle metal fingers knot in her hair and he whispers.
"I hope they don't make me forget this, I don't want to forget you again." The soldier's sad eyes flicker towards her own as her mouth opens to speak, a deep voice pierces through the com link.
"Babochka, Soldalt, доклад о миссии." [Butterfly, soldier, mission report.]
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tags: @aquahogcodes @leyannrae @nahthanks @mamacitapascal @thesneakylittleminx @bucks-bunny @mardema @Je55 @Fajitasandfics @positionsfyou @fuckandfluff @kpopgirlbtssvt @slytherdorxmd @rrlyendofthelinemyass @stolenxkissess @Jallen0126 @sugarpunch-princess @old-enough-to-know-better73 @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @devilswaldorf @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @grubler @SodDy030 @agent-catfish-kenobi @scarletglowss @abitchforbarnes @xxlovingfandomsxx @jewishdelis @Klorpski @xxlovingfandomsxx @kaitieskidmore1 @peterpstuff @akaaaaashiiii @angelsandsorcery @moony-is-bae @yliumy @bellar-01 @watermelonsponge @peakascum @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @crvecem @Emmy @likealadygodiva @harrysthiccthighss @burnerbitchh @sergeantjamesbbarnes @amelia-song-pond @sableseb @hallecarey1 @jbuchanan-barnes
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yelena-bellova · 5 months ago
Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
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chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five
Series Masterlist
Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.
Word Count: 7.4k
Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it
A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot. 
“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion. 
The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”
“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.
“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”
“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.
“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”
“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”
Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.
“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.” 
I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?” 
“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”
My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.
“We’ve got our next stop.”
“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”
“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.
With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.
“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”
Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”
“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.
“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”
“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.
“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”
“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.
“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.
“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.
“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”
“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.
“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.” 
“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.
“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.
“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”
The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”
“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.
“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”
We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”
“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.
“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” 
Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.
Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.
“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” 
Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.
When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.
We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”
Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”
“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”
Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.
“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.
“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.
“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.
“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”
Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”
“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” 
With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——
The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.
As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom. 
“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.
My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters. 
“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”
I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”
“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.
“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.
“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “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,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”
“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that. 
Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.
We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)
I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.
We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”
The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”
The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.
“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.
“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.
“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.
Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.
“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.
“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”
Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side. 
“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.
“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.
The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” 
“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”
I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor. 
“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.
When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)
“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.
We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”
Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act. 
“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” 
“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 
Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.
“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. 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.”
I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.
“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” 
A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.
“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” 
“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”
“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”
“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”
Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.
Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, 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,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”
We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”
A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.
“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.
“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”
I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.
“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.
“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”
Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.
“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”
“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.
“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.
Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”
“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”
“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”
While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.
Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.
“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.
“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”
“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”
“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.
I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.
The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.
“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.
“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”
“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”
There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.
A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.
Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders​ @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​
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theconstantsidekick · 3 months ago
The Whole World Is Watching (2) | b.b
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Past Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, OC x Stark!Reader (brief)
Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst.
Summary: Sam and Bucky call on the only Stark left in the Superhero business—codename Static—to help take down the Flag Smashers. Only problem is, she’s pretty damn reluctant.
(These scenes incorporate y/n into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced)
Warnings: Swearing, kinda.
a/n: Aight, aight. Here’s the skinny; I function purely on attention and praise, so please leave a comment. I’m a narcissist; I make no apologies. Let me know what you guys think, I love reading your hot takes. Entertain me in exchange for all the entertainment I’m providing you. No, but seriously, let me know what you guys think, always love to hear from y’all. Also oh, the tag list is open.
sidenote: would ya’ll be interested in flashbacks to previous MCU films explaining the reader’s origin? Also, there may or may not be a hidden easter egg for Sebastian Stan fans. Reblog if you find it!
The Whole World Is Watching (1) | The Whole World Is Watching (3) | Series Masterlist
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“Well, I got nothin',” Bucky informs as they all walk back into Zemo’s place after what was a very unsuccessful attempt at gathering information at the camp. “No one's talkin' about Donya,” he states while walking over to the couch, with Sam in tow. Zemo makes his way over to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Y/n positions herself next to the pillar closest to the entrance, leaning on it with her shoulder.
“Yeah, it's because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam explains. Bucky sighs audibly and sits down. “And she's not wrong,” Sam adds.
“What do you mean?” Bucky asks as he watches him take a seat diagonal to him.
“For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild,” Sam argues. “It wasn't just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom.” he snaps his fingers, “Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli's doin' somethin'.”
“You really think her ends justify her means? Then, she's no different than him,” Bucky counters, pointing at Zemo who’s… brewing them tea??? Regardless he continues, “or anybody else we've fought.”
“She's different. She's not motivated by the same things,” Sam states.
Bucky looks ahead as Zemo approaches them with a tray carrying their fucking tea? “That little girl. What'd she tell you?” He asks.
Zemo hesitates. Bucky can tell he’s weighing his options. Calculating how much information to give up to be helpful enough to keep around but not so helpful that he becomes redundant. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Zemo says, “The funeral is this afternoon.” He sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of them. He picks up a glass of it for himself.
“You know the Dora's coming for you any minute,” Bucky warns. “In fact, they're probably lurking outside right now,” he nods towards the door, “Keep talking,” Bucky states.
“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli.” Zemo hums, “ I prefer to keep my leverage.”
And all the shit Bucky’s been through today comes barrelling out. He doesn’t know why he’s so fucking angry over a pretty dame distrusting him but he is. He’s also pissed off the Wakandans, the only people who helped him when no one else could, for this fur coat-wearing douche, and he’s had enough.
He calmly gets off the couch, steps towards Zemo pulls the glass of tea out of his hands, and throws it violently at the wall. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”
Zemo looks absolutely petrified, and sue Bucky, he fucking relishes in it.
Sam quickly steps up to the two, pushing Bucky away, “Take it easy. Don't engage him. He's just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”
At Sam’s words, Zemo un-tilts his head.
But Bucky’s still seething.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Sam look over Bucky’s shoulder, and nod in his and Zemo’s direction. And a second later there is a hand on his right shoulder.
“James,” is all Y/n says.
Bucky angrily shrugs his shoulder to escape from the contact and is weirdly upset when he’s successful.
“I’m gonna make a call,” Sam calls out. “You got this?” He asks Y/n, who presumably nods in response, because then he begins walking away, with a friendly smack to Bucky’s shoulder.
“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo inquired, with mock innocence.
“No, you go ahead,” Bucky replied with disdain clear in his tone, finally tearing his eyes away from Zemo and walking away to the kitchen.
“James?” Y/n calls him, following him.
Bucky wants to avoid this conversation with everything in him. But he can't.
He leans over the kitchen island, resting his hand on the tabletop at the head of the table, with his back to the windows.
“Hey?” She tries again.
“What?” He snaps at her. He’s finally looking at her, where she’s standing diagonal to him. She’s changed out of the sheer blouse from the night before and discarded the blazer as well. Opting instead for a white turtleneck sweater, with an oversized full sleeve beige collared shirt on top. The first few buttons are undone and sleeves rolled up. The faded cerulean blue of the wide-leg pants from last night with the addition of the beige shirt makes her match with the brown and blue of their surroundings; ancient yet beautiful and terrifyingly unmoving.
She doesn’t flinch away from him like he’d expected, only her face goes blank as she puts her hands into her pockets. And the sudden switch to her calm demeanor along with the dexterity of her actions informs Bucky that he might just have fucked up.
“I understand you’re upset with me, but you called me on this mission. You asked me to help you out... I was doing my job, and if that pisses you, I’m sorry to inform you, I’m gonna need you to eat your damn snickers and suck it up, Sergeant.” She states with finality that leaves no room for disagreement. “I didn’t want to be here, but now that I am; I have no intentions of fucking up the job just cause a pretty boy spun me around on the dancefloor.”
Bucky feels like he’s been gut-punched. While he hates the coldness in her tone, he can’t help but think that it matches the one in his own that he's had every time he’s addressed her since the morning.
Hold up, did she just call me pretty?
Before he can say something, anything (not that he knows what he would), Sam’s coming back into the room. “Sharon’s gonna keep a lookout,” he informs them as he pockets his phone. He turns to Y/n, “You think you got any strings you could pull?”
Y/n turns to Sam, shaking her slowly from side to side, contemplating and saying, “There might be some Stark satellites I could borrow.”
She pulls out her phone and walks away.
“You pissed her off,” Sam declares walking over to him while looking over at Zemo behind them who’s apparently enjoying the whole show with a glass of tea in his hand as he sits on the couch.
“What makes you say that?” Bucky asks, petulantly trying to avoid the accurate accusation.
“Call it intuition.” Sam stands next to him, looking towards the windows. His head cocks over to Bucky when he asks, “What happened?”
“You know what happened; she followed me.”
“Kinda what we called her for.”
“So she says.”
“But..?” Sam urges him.
Bucky exhales, “I can’t—I can’t explain it… Just thought it’d be different now...”
“Now that you thought you two had become friends,” Sam summarizes.
Bucky can’t help but grumble in response. He doesn’t want to agree but he also can’t disagree cause Sam is right. Sam lets out a soft short laugh and pats him lightly on the shoulder.
“The big bad cyborg’s got a crush,” Sam sings, as he walks over to the couch.
“I don’t have a—” Bucky’s cut off as Y/n walks into the room still on her phone.
“—for the last time; it is not hacking if I give you the damn access codes!” She screams into the phone.
“God, you must be real fun at parties,” the voice on the other side, a man replies, sarcastically. Bucky shouldn’t be listening, but sometimes he can’t shut off his hearing, and other times he’s just nosy. This might be either of those two times. He’s not gonna bother clarifying, even to himself. “Anyway, what do I get if I do this?” the voice asks.
“Nothing. Consider this your legal fees for the shit you pulled with that Carter Baizen kid,” She replies still annoyed. Her brows are furrowed and she’s clutching onto the phone pretty tightly in one hand while the other is in her pocket as she’s pacing around.
“He was blackmailing girls with those pictures. What did you expect me to do? Just stand by and watch?” the man argues, finally losing the casual tone.
“Fuck no. This is not me reprimanding you for doing it, it’s me reprimanding you for getting caught!” She throws back.
“Well,” the casual tone is back, “pardon me, I was half a bottle down some really strong vodka.”
“That’s the damn lesson, airhead,” she says exasperatedly, throwing her head back, “Don’t revenge hack when drunk.”
“Di—did you just call me an airhead?” The man asks, rhetorically with a chuckle. Y/n exhales heavily like he’s grating down the last ounce of patience she’s spent years upon years gathering. “What are you, a 100 years old? Oh, wait—”
“—Alright, junior. I’m hanging up now—” she begins taking her phone off her ear.
“Oooh, did I hurt your feelings, grandma?” the man mocks.
“Harley Keener, you’re on thin fucking ice!” She shouts into the phone before hanging up.
All three men look back at her in shock, never having seen her lose her cool like that before. She, however, slips back into her unfazed demeanor instantly, putting her phone back into her pocket. When she realizes all three of them are staring at her with their jaws wide open she cocks her eyebrow and says, “We’ll have something in a couple minutes.”
She walks over to the coffee table, picking up a glass, and begins sipping the tea. She nods her head in favor of the taste, then looks over to Zemo, “Pretty good.”
“Glad you like it,” Zemo replies, still pretty lost in the scene that just unfolded in front of him.
A couple minutes pass in tense silence before Zemo breaks it, “Shall we?” getting off the couch and gesturing at the door.
They all begin to walk out when Y/n’s phone rings. She pulls it out, puts it on speaker. “Hey junior, you’re on speaker.”
“Greetings skimpy latex wearers,” The man, Harley sings out mockingly.
Y/n just grumbles in discontent in response before asking, “You got anything or not, kid?” She asks as they all fall out of the door stepping onto the sidewalk. Zemo up head, Sam and Y/n side to side, with Bucky in toe.
“Yeah yeah, don’t get grumpy on me just yet,” Harley chides. “Not much on the flag smashers front, I could crack their app but—”
“—Absolutely not. Stay out of it,” Y/n warns. And suddenly Bucky realizes why she was so easily rattled by the kid. She’s treating him like a kid… like her responsibility.
“—you won’t let me.” Harley finishes, “Which is stupid.”
“Harley,” She warns again.
“But… I did find something else. Not that you asked for it but thought you'd wanna know that the new Captain America and his sidekick are on their way to intercept you in—”
Before Harley can finish the sentence, John Walker and Lemar Hoskins are running down a flight of stairs in the middle of the street and walking towards them as Walker screams out, “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.”
All four of them walk out onto the main road.
“Already intercepted.” Y/n says into the phone as Bucky shouts out to them, “Ah! How'd you find us now?”
“Ah shit. Sorry,” Harley curses.
“Nah. Not on you. But great catch, kid. Text me if you find something else.” She hangs up as all of them walk over to John and Lemar.
Meanwhile, Lemar shouts out, “Come on, man. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”
“No more keeping us in the dark,” Walker declares. “You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,” he says, pointing towards Zemo.
“He did that himself, technically,” Bucky defends.
“This better be an unbelievable explana—” Walker shouts while walking towards him as they all collide at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam interrupts Walker, stepping in between and holding him back with an arm on his chest. Simultaneously he notices Y/n step up to flank him in his periphery.
“I know where Karli is,” Zemo exclaims and begins walking away slightly to his left.
Only to be stopped by Walker with a hand to his chest. “Well, where?” he asks.
“All we know is, it's a memorial. So, we're gonna intercept her there,” Sam explains while Zemo pushes Walker aside and begins walking again. The rest follow him.
“That means civilians. High risk of casualties,” Lamar assesses.
“All right, good, we'll move in fast. Take her by surprise,” Walker states.
Who the fuck told Walker he was in charge?
“No, I wanna talk to her alone,” Sam interrupts.
“I'm not losing her again,” Walker spits out.
And Sam’s gotta be a saint for all the patience he answers with, “Look, the person closest to her died, she's vulnerable. If there's any time to reason with her, it's now.”
“What? No. Wait, no!” Walker jogs up ahead to overtake Bucky and Zemo ahead of him. Lemar follows suit. “No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” He shouts out, stopping everyone in their tracks. “I think we're way past reasoning with her unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.”
Bucky keeps imagining how much fun it would be to look at Walker with a black eye. And then, how much more fun it'd be to be the one who puts it there.
“Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you,” Lemar tries.
“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die,” Sam counters.
“You're gonna let him do this? Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?” Walker asks, turning to Bucky, voice laced with condescension.
“He's dealt with worse,” Bucky defends easily. And just for safety’s sake, “And he's not my partner.”
Walker exhales audibly then looks at the back, where Y/n is standing silent yet observant, behind the three men. Bucky’s head turns with Walker’s gaze.
“You're really not gonna stop them?” Walker chides. “Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?”
“Whoever told you that?” Y/n throws back with a cocked eyebrow, “I’m just the very good-looking muscle.” She nods over to Sam, “He’s the one who calls the shots.” When she looks back at Walker her glare is so cold, Bucky’s impressed that Walker doesn’t just run away and hide.
“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse,” Sam reasons as he walks over to the front over to Walker, from behind Bucky. He’s trying to diffuse the tension, Bucky realizes.
“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea,” Walker argues.
“Wait, John. If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try,” Lemar ventures, looking over at Walker. Bucky thinks he probably wouldn’t have minded Lemar if he wasn’t associated with Walker.
Walker doesn’t respond. The silence stretches out until Y/n chimes in from the back, “You heard the boss. You either move out of the way… or I. Move. You.”
And fuck him, Bucky doesn’t know if the threat should make his insides so damn giddy and… warm, but it does. It’s not even aimed at him but the sheer severity of her voice is doing things to Bucky that he’d rather it didn’t. Especially for his best friend’s girl. Well, a voice inside of him calls out, ‘ex’ girl.
Bucky can’t do anything but mentally shake his head and tell his inner monologue to shut the fuck up.
Walker, on the other hand, takes the threat as intended. He scoffs and moves out of the way before adding, “We'll deal with you later,” pointing at Zemo.
“I'm sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion,” Zemo remarks sarcastically, hands flying up. He points to the little girl from the camp this morning, standing ahead of them, and says, “My associate is just up ahead.”
Read part 3 here.
Find series masterlist here.
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simmerandwrite · 11 days ago
Blink Twice [3]
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Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong? 
 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader 
 Word count: 6.3k [part 3/5] 
 Previous: Part 01 Part 02
Warnings: some angst/comfort, some minor violence in future chapters
Notes: Thank you again to everyone reading! As I said before, this is a little self indulgent side project and completely un-beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. I appreciate any feedback but it’s certainly not required. Just happy to have you along for the ride. If you see me out in the wild interacting, it’s under my main @simmerandcry​
That first day, you and Bucky exchanged a total of maybe a dozen full sentences with each other. Just as he said, he kept to himself and seemed to have plenty of projects around the cabin to keep his mind and hands occupied.
You, on the other hand, were left to your own devices. You discovered that the big trunk in the living room was housing some dated technology - including a VHS player accompanied by a variety of romantic comedies and bad action movies from the 80s and 90s. The bookcase was littered with lots of old books - mostly full sets of classics, included. You concluded Bucky must have taken the first Lord of the Rings book because it seemed to be missing in the trilogy.
The fridge was full of food - a variety of produce and basic fixings for meals. The cupboards housed enough dishes for a small family and plenty of pots and pans to produce some home cooked meals over the next few days. Bucky implied you were well stocked and you agreed, but you also wondered how that had happened so quickly and what would happen when and if you needed things replenished.
Outside though, you had a lot less to think about. Near the back corner of the property, Bucky came and went from a shed as he tasked himself as the cottage contractor. You sat out on the deck briefly, basking in the sunlight and simply listening to your surroundings. It was surprisingly peaceful and you hated to admit how much you appreciated the quiet.
You had learned to lull yourself to sleep with the city noise but this was a different type of calm. Just down to the left of the cabin was a stream that ran through the property. The water flowed gently through the slight slope and you could safely wade across it to sit on the other side in the shade of a big cedar tree. You situated yourself against some brush and found a comfortable position with your feet resting in the cool water and your knees acting as a table for a notebook Natasha had taken from your apartment.
Although you certainly preferred writing with a keyboard, this was the next best thing. Truthfully, it took a lot out of you to focus on something like writing so you didn’t give yourself many rules. Maybe just write down some thoughts, add a few lines to the speech you were supposed to give at your cousin’s wedding, and try to practice some descriptive passages based on the scenery. 
Between that and watching Bucky work in the yard - with his shirt off - most of your day got away from you. You cursed to yourself when you felt a rumbling in your stomach. Hyperfixating on things often caused you to forget about much more important actions like eating . Given the location of the sun, you figured it was much later in the day than you thought.
You made your way back to the cabin, bypassing Bucky who was replacing some of the screens on the porch windows. You paused at the door, turning to glance at him. “I’m going to make something for dinner. Should I cook for two?” 
Bucky pressed the large staple gun into the wood frame then turned his head over his shoulder. “Sure.”
“Anything you’re allergic to? Food aversions? Foods you find revolting?”
He shrugged, turning back to adjust his staple gun. “I don’t like cooked cabbage.”
For some reason, you found that simple confession endearing and you wondered why. Swallowing the thought, you nodded and headed inside. “Perfect. One cabbage soup coming right up.”
Bucky was always up early. If the sun was up, he was too. He didn’t mind how the serum seemed to keep his sleep needs at the bare minimum and given his current location, waking up early was an added sense of serenity in his day. He ventured outside in the cool morning air, wrapping a hooded sweatshirt on as he started his routine - a long trail run to check the sensors.
When he got back to the cabin, usually you were awake, too. He spotted you sitting at the table in the covered porch, a cup of coffee in hand and a stack of National Geographic magazines ahead of you.
If Bucky could go back and start again with you, he would. He usually couldn’t help having his guard up and he’d be the first to admit most of his defensiveness came from just feeling run down and tired after his last few weeks of work. There were certainly worse places in the world he could be spending his time currently and your company wasn’t a bad thing.
But, he had a wall up and it seemed as if you did, too.
You had taken on most of the responsibility when it came to cooking. Not that Bucky had requested you to do such a thing but it seemed to keep your mind busy and maybe it was something you enjoyed. When he walked inside following his run, there was a plate on the island wrapped in tinfoil. Scrawled in marker on top of it was a note: breakfast - for the ghost who lives down the hall.
Bucky smirked, tearing off the foil and inhaling the scent of cooked bacon and eggs.
Bucky didn’t need to check the sensors more than once a day but when his hands grew tired of his self-appointed house labour and he was finished yet another chapter of The Lord of The Rings trilogy, a walk seemed like a nice escape. 
You were sitting down near the stream again, toes dipped in the water while you fiddled with a set of binoculars in your hands. Bucky wasn’t sure where you had found them - maybe the storage closet inside where you also managed to unearth an old stereo and even set up the TV for watching those movie tapes.
Bucky turned his head as you shouted for him, standing carefully in the water and waving him to come towards you. He sighed and headed down the slope just enough to get closer to your eye line. 
“Uhm, the air conditioner upstairs is broken, I think. Is there any chance you can take a look at it? I’m not sure if it’s fixable but it’s.. Just really hot up there at night.” You sighed as he stared at you. “Actually, forget it. Maybe I can just -
“I’ll take a look at it.” He waved his hand to stop you. “I’m just going for a walk but when I get back, I’ll see what I can do.”
You reluctantly broke into a smile. “Thank you, handyman ghost.”
Bucky chuckled that time, stalking back up the hill. He paused halfway and turned back around. “You should be drinking water throughout the day if you’re in the sun so you stay hydrated. And did you put sunscreen on? Might be time to reapply.”
You rolled your eyes, though it was hidden behind the frame of your sunglasses. You supposed you could thank him again, for looking out for you. But there was a thin line between Bucky doing his job to look after you and keep you safe and actual kindness. So far, you weren’t sure what was Bucky being nice and what was Bucky doing his job.
Really, did it matter? If he was doing his job and being nice to you in the process, was there anything really wrong with that?
Later that week, Bucky was cleaning up the dishes after dinner. You had at least worked out a wordless exchange where he would always clean up if you cooked. He had suffered through a terribly bland pasta dish, insisting in just a few words that it tasted fine but you were cursing yourself. You’re not sure why you felt like you failed - it was just pasta, after all. But given that you had literally nothing else to prove your worth, you were feeling weirdly crushed.
You had flopped down on the couch, contemplating how you could waste time before bed and another day of the same thing. You had set up the VHS player earlier that week and considered diving into the large trunk and pulling out an old movie. 
When Bucky was done with all the dishes, he moved towards the door. “I’m going to build a fire.”
You just nodded, not bothering to look back towards him. It was strange he was announcing his plans to you, though. He usually only told you what he was up to when he was leaving the property.
“You can join me, if you want.” That made your head turn. When you looked over at Bucky, he met your eyes and he shrugged, though there was a kind smile on his face. “No pressure.”
You managed to smile back. “Uhm, yeah.. Maybe I will.” 
It had been a very long time since you had been around a fire. Fond memories filled your mind - long nights camping with your family, roasting marshmallows and cooking over the fire, complaining when the tent got too hot or too cold or too wet. Your dad had always been so patient with you, teaching you some basic survival skills and letting you learn by example. Truthfully, those warm summer nights were some of your favourite memories as a kid. Before life got too complicated and good intentions overlapped with danger and bad guys and consequences. 
A campfire sure beat another night sitting lonely inside.
You changed into your best campfire clothes, pairing your jeans with an old zip up hoodie. You pushed through the door and followed the sight and smell of the fire, which Bucky had already amassed to an impressive size. You looked up into the fading blue sky, hoping that your distance from real civilization would grant you a wealth of stars to gaze at soon enough.
Bucky had pulled up two chairs on opposite sides of the round firepit and was perched on the edge of one. You watched him across the fire - the warm glow casting a soft illumination onto his features. Even in the soft darkness of the night, he looked quite handsome. When his eyes flicked upwards, you gulped hard as he caught your stare. 
He sat back in his chair, smirking to himself.
The fire crackled.
“So - if you weren’t stuck in the woods with me, what would you have been doing with your time off?” You figured his invitation to the fire was something akin to wanting company, so you were going to revel in the opportunity to actually have a real conversation with him.
Bucky hummed as he pondered your question. “My plan had been to drive up the coast on my bike. Up towards Maine.” 
“What’s in Maine?”
He shrugged, tilting his head as he gazed at the flames. “Nothin’ in particular. Just always wanted to visit.” 
“I’ve been to Maine! Once, as a kid. My dad had some outlandish plans for us - me and my brother - during our summer vacations. His goal was to take us to visit every single state before high school and didn’t want to hang out with him in the summers anymore. All I remember about Maine is going to some trolley car museum. At least I think it was in Maine.”
You could have sworn you saw a smile flicker across Bucky’s face but it seemed to disappear when he replied. “How many states did you get to?” 
“Over the years, I think we managed about 20? Which I thought was pretty good. Some of the distances were too much for our car to handle so we mainly tackled inland midwest states and the east coast.” You scrunched up your face, trying to recall the list of states that lived somewhere in the back of your head. “I’d love to finish the list - my dad really wants to get to Alaska one day. That’s the top priority now. He watched one TV show about fly fishing and that’s all he rambles on about.” You didn’t intend to keep rambling but Bucky stopped replying and seemed content to let you keep going. Or he wasn’t listening at all anymore. 
So you trailed off and leaned back in the chair instead. There was a part of you that just wanted to scream across the fire at him, to apologize for being such an annoying burden with all your questions and chatter and -
Bucky cleared his throat and stood up, walking a few feet away to grab another piece of wood for the fire. He spoke as he dropped it into the flames. “I’ve always wanted to visit Hawaii, actually.” As he sat again, he laughed to himself. “Fresh pineapple, ya know.”
You tried to hide the tight smile forming. You pulled your feet up onto the chair and did your best to hug your knees towards your chest. “Good choice. Fresh air, lots of green mountains.They probably make good poke bowls, too. And shave ice! Plus, that’s where they filmed Jurassic Park so they must have scenic set tours or something silly like that.”
He let out an awkward laugh. You had lost him at poke bowls. “Jurassic Park is the one with the dinosaurs?”
Now it was your turn to laugh. “Yes, it is the one with the dinosaurs.” You stopped yourself from getting too mouthy - while Bucky was still a bit of an enigma, you knew his backstory and that he was still relatively new to this century. “Not sure if you have a list of important movies to watch, but that one should take priority.” 
For a second, you wondered if it was in that old trunk full of VHS tapes inside and if a movie night could be in order for you two. The idea of sitting together on the couch seemed awfully appealing all of a sudden. Maybe he’d stretch out his arm and you’d lean into his side and -
Bucky smiled. “I do have a list. I’ll pencil it in.” 
“What else is on the list? Just movies?”
“Movies, tv shows, music, food, books, sports, trends, cultural movements, scientific discoveries...” He paused to adjust his position on the chair, sliding back and raising his head upwards to look towards the sky. “Nat just unloaded a ton of music on me - ska and grunge from the 90s, I think. Bruce put all these papers I might be interested in on my tablet, Steve keeps wanting to watch old ball games together. It’s..” He sighed and pulled his eyes back down to look over at you. “It’s just a lot.”
“If I may add one more thing to your list,” you said with a smile. “One of the top pop songs of the year 2001 - Drops of Jupiter by Train.”
Bucky nodded. “How does it go?” When your mouth fell open for a moment, he just laughed. “What? I hear you sing to yourself when you make breakfast every morning and when you’re in the shower and -
“I’m not a good singer,” you argued back to him, rolling your eyes. “I just.. Like to do it.”
“You sound just fine to me,” he shrugged. “I was just joking, doll. But if it’s such a good song...”
“Okay, fine. Okay.” You closed your eyes and shifted forward on the chair. “I kind of remember all the words, it starts like… Now that she’s back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair - air -aiiir. It goes up at the end like that.” 
You opened your eyes to see Bucky watching you intently through the dancing flames of the fire. You immediately closed them again. “But then... The second chorus, it’s like..” You pulled yourself to the edge of your seat. “ But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get a chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the Milky Way? Did venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? Did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there? ”
Bucky was grinning now, as you half sang and explained yourself through this song.
“ And then.. We get to the bridge and arguably the best part..there’s a few lines then.. Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation, the best soy latte that you ever had and me?” You trailed off then, humming and repeating the chorus to yourself as you sat back into the chair again, tipping your head upwards to look at the sea of stars that were blanketing the sky. “It’s just.. one of my favourites. That’s all.”
Bucky smiled. “I’ll add it to my list.”
Bucky felt a tiny shift in his rapport with you following the night at the fire. Admittedly, he had been feeling strange about the distance he was keeping and most of that was driven by his own racing thoughts. It’s not like he wasn’t interested in meeting new people. He met new people all the time now - some good, some bad, some boring, some interesting. 
He supposed he was just attaching you with an overall feeling of frustration, irritation even, from his life being interrupted. Though you had nothing to do with it, of course. It was really a Bucky thing and he had resolved to quietly co-existing until Nat figured out what was going on with the HYDRA team. The timeline was unclear and to be determined, still. 
You mostly kept your distance from him, respecting the invisible boundary he had drawn. You seemed content to occupy yourself with anything and everything - from watching for wildlife down near the quiet stream to making your way through National Geographics to building a house of cards or setting up that old movie watching device technology. 
Outside of a few questions about what was for dinner and other occasional commentary, you kept to yourself. You talked to yourself a lot, he noticed. If you weren’t singing some song stuck in your head, you narrated when you cooked or you re-read passages of books out loud. Sometimes he listened, even from afar. 
He liked it, even. You seemed sharp and eager to learn and do and stay occupied. You asked for help when it deemed necessary and always made an effort to say goodnight before making your way to the lofted room upstairs.
More than anything, though, especially after your evening spent together outside at the fire, Bucky felt something new. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it - truthfully, getting ahead of new emotions was still difficult at times. After years of emotional stasis, he was still re-learning. But sometimes, when he caught you smiling, he felt a strange twist in his chest. When he first overheard you singing in the shower, he couldn’t believe the grin that grew on his face.
It was downright confusing and Bucky was struggling to understand it. So, he just ignored it instead. But he did decide that he wanted to make a bit more of an effort - maybe invite you on one of his hikes, or offer to play cards or watch a movie after dinner. 
You bounded outside of the cabin quickly following breakfast that morning and before Bucky got the chance to stop and ask you, a message came into the tablet from Nat about a check in call. He propped up the screen on the kitchen island and waited for her to appear.
To his surprise, it was Steve on the other side of the screen.
“Stevie, hey.”
“How are things going, Buck? Nat just had to take a phone call so she let me have a few minutes of your time.”
Bucky laughed and leaned back against the opposite counter, crossing his arms as he looked towards the tablet. “They’re going fine. Quiet, mostly. Nothing too exciting.”
“Playing nice, I hope.”
“What does that mean, punk?”
“You can be a bit standoffish, that’s all.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Not sure what you expected to happen here - we’re getting along well enough and she’s safe from harm.” There was a shuffling on Steve’s side of the call and soon it was Nat filling the frame instead. “What’s the news, Romanoff?” When she let out a heavy sigh, a strange sense of worry coursed through him.
“Let’s start with you - anything to report?”
Bucky filled her in on the last week, indicating there was no movement or signs of concerns on the property line. Things were quiet and their position remained secure. When Nat clarified she wanted a report on you, Bucky faltered.
“Uh, she’s good. Keeping busy.”
“Keeping busy? Is she feeling okay with what's going on? Do you talk to her at all, Barnes?”
“We talk,” Bucky tried to defend himself. Sure, he knew he hadn’t been trying hard but he was shifting gears now. Though, what did Nat expect from him? He hadn’t signed up to be your therapist. “Sorry I don’t know what she’s writing in her diary. I don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about right now an-
“Where is she? Let me talk to her.”
Bucky sighed and headed towards the door, pulling it open to scan for your location - you were sitting at the empty fire pit. He shouted your name and waved you towards the house.
You had been perfectly content reading out near the fire and had intended on spending your time there until the sun got to be way too much. But Bucky was mumbling something about a call from Nat as you walked inside and you could hear her through the tablet screen. When you appeared in front of the camera, Nat greeted you with a tight smile.
“I have an update for you both on what’s going on. But I wanted to make sure things are going alright?”
You appreciated Nat’s concern, you really did. But what were you supposed to say with Bucky standing right beside you? Things were going as well as they could be, given the lessening awkward rapport you had with Bucky. 
“Yeah, things are good? It’s been a while since I’ve gotten so much fresh air. So.. silver lining, I guess..” You trailed off but gave Nat a hopeful smile. 
“Is Bucky being nice?”
Bucky sighed and raised his arms up in frustration. “What kind of question is that? I’m not mean to her. Christ, Nat.” 
You raised an eyebrow at his reaction. “Uhm, that’s right. We’re.. amicable?” 
“How much longer are we going to be here, anyway?” Bucky pressed on, hiding from being on camera. The last thing he needed was Nat’s follow up commentary on his pouting. But what gave her the right? He was doing her a favour here. 
“Unfortunately I don’t have any news. Well, nothing good. We did track down Sean though-” Nat pulled a photo from off screen and held it up for you to see. It was a mugshot . “Turns out Sean’s name is actually Nikolai Strom. Did he tell you that?”
You swallowed hard, eyes wide. “Obviously not. He barely told me anything.” You tried to hide your trembling lip as you stared at the stupid photo on screen. Nat filled you in on his connections to HYDRA - a cousin of his uncle had tasked him with getting close to you. “So it was.. He found me? How?” 
Here you were, right back at the start of this mess. Trying to contain your breathing and rationalize your actions and justify why you had even originally exchanged numbers with that handsome stranger. 
“This was a first for us, actually. It turns out your cat’s microchip is part of a national database and when you went to that veterinarian, it indicated a new location where he was a patient. They had been tracking that database, apparently.”
Your jaw fell open briefly. “They used.. Luigi to track me down? And that’s why he ran into me right outside the vet’s officeI.. I’m an idiot, wow. I can’t..”
Nat said your name to cut you off. “Hey. Stop. Don’t blame yourself. It doesn’t matter now anyway, you’re safe and he’s in custody. We’re trying to get some more information out of him to find who he is actually reporting to.”
“Oh and Luigi is doing great!” Steve leaned into the screen in front of Nat, offering you a smile in the silence. “He caught a few butterflies in the conservatory at the tower the other day.”
You couldn’t even pretend to think about how cute that probably was because you were stuck on the Sean news. You rested a hand on the table to steady yourself and closed your eyes. “Can you give me an update on my dad and brother at least?”
Nat said your name softly this time. “They assigned them to a new officer. I’m not privy to any news about them anymore - they’re trying to maintain more distance given the evolving situation. I’m sorry.”
“Wait - what? Really? Did they have to move locations, too? You can’t tell me anything? Or you have information and you won’t tell me?” The panic in your voice was growing and you were embarrassed at both your volume and how your words came out in such a broken mess, as if you were unable to form a complete thought. “Can you send them a message from me at least?”
“I can’t, I’m sorry. I know that they are somewhere safe and -
Bucky jumped in before you could continue your flurry of thoughts. He was hardly hiding his frustration now. “Nat, do you have a timeline for us, at least? What’s the estimated time of our stay up here?” He looked over at you and you quickly turned your head away from him. “How much time are you devoting to this search right now? Maybe once Sam gets back he can swap out for me here. I could be helping you.” Nat had already made it clear she doubted his ability to even be nice to you so maybe he had already failed in her eyes, anyway. “I feel like this isn’t the best use of my time and abilities. Plus, she -
“Barnes, I know you don’t want to be there but you agreed to this. Could you just do your job instead of telling me how to do mine?” The anger in Natasha’s voice was obvious this time.
You let out a frustrated groan. “You realize I don’t want to be here either, right? God fucking damnit.” You slammed your fists against the island and shook your head.
“Well, throwing a tantrum isn’t going to help your situation,” Bucky muttered out.
“Wow, that’s rich coming from the Angriest, Grumpiest Man in the World,” you spat back at him, pushing away from the island and heading towards the door. “Have a great fucking day.” You raised up both your hands to flip him off before slamming the door behind, ignoring Natasha calling you from the tablet screen.
“God damnit,” Bucky shook his head. He had a feeling this had just undone all the progress he was trying to make in his developing friendship with you. After confirming the upcoming food delivery, Nat signed off, apologizing for ruffling feathers and wishing him luck on the undetermined amount of time you’d have to still spend together. 
She had thanked him once again, too.
Bucky just sighed, pulling at the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t sure if it was the leftover anger from that call or the heat of July, but suddenly everything seemed to get a bit more uncomfortable. 
You spent your day as far away from Bucky as possible. After your night spent around the fire, you thought maybe things had changed for you two. It had taken a lot of baby steps to actually exchange some laughs and stories with him and yet following the call with Natasha, you were reminded this was all circumstantial. 
You weren’t on vacation in the middle of the forest. You were hidden away for the sake of your safety and your actions had put yourself and your family at risk. This wasn’t leisure for Bucky either, it was his job. 
You fell asleep on the deck for most of the day, ignoring your body’s cry for something to eat or drink besides a granola bar and a cup of coffee. Normally, the dry heat of July would drive you to seek out a lake to jump into or to hide away in a cold basement. For some reason though, your body seemed content to suffer through the heat. 
Bucky mostly kept his distance. You could hear him going in and out of the house, occasionally slowing down at the other end of the deck as if he might say something. But, he just carried on. 
Around dinner time, you dragged yourself inside and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You barely managed to stomach it though - it seemed as if your bad mood had caused your appetite to disappear. Though you slept most of the day away and the sun was barely setting, you just went to bed. 
When your head hit the pillow, you felt okay - but exhausted and very warm. When you woke up a few hours later covered in sweat, things felt immensely worse. You groaned quietly as you sat up in bed. Everything felt so hot, so so hot. The air was sticky and heavy and whatever Bucky had done to fix your A/C unit clearly hadn’t worked. 
Slowly, you sat up and wiped the sweat off your forehead. You needed water or something, anything. Standing wasn’t easy and when you got to the staircase, you held on for dear life to stop yourself from plummeting down to the bottom. 
The main room was dark and though you had no idea what time it was, you only assumed Bucky was already in bed, too. When you made it to the kitchen, where the air was significantly cooler, you barely had the energy to find a cup for water. 
Maybe you had enjoyed too much time in the sun after all. Just sipping on the cool water from the sink caused your stomach to stir and it took all your remaining energy to hurry to the bathroom. It wasn’t long before the contents of your stomach came up, though hugging the toilet was surprisingly refreshing. 
The next problem, though, was trying to stand up again. When you got to your feet, your knees buckled and you narrowly missed smacking your head against the counter as you collapsed against the floor. 
Well, the bathroom was much cooler than upstairs at least. 
A loud knock at the door kept you awake. Bucky was calling your name. “Are you okay?”
You mustered the energy to groan back a response. He repeated himself outside the door, then barely waited for a follow up before pushing it open. You were leaning against the wall, head lolling to the side when you tried to look over at him. “M’fine.”
“Shit,” Bucky muttered out as he crouched beside you. With his flesh hand he pushed back the sticky hair on your forehead. “What did you eat today? Have you been drinking water?”
“So hot upstairs,” you replied, shaking your head slowly. “I had.. half a sandwich for dinner.”
He grimaced, he could only assume that’s what you had thrown up moments ago. “This looks like heat exhaustion, doll. We’ve gotta cool you down. Can you stand?” Bucky had plenty of first aid experience and was running through the quickest solutions he could think of: get to a cool place, get the patient hydrated, try to lower body temperature. 
He helped you to stand, holding you steady as he looked over you a bit more closely. Your skin was red across your forehead and down towards your shoulders. “Don’t pass out on me, okay?” You mumbled something inaudible into his chest as he moved you a few feet further into the room. 
Pulling the curtain open, he held you upright against him with one arm while the other reached in and started the water. “This is gonna be cold but we’ve got to get your temperature down.” He said your name to get your attention. “C’mon.” He tried to urge you under the water, still fully dressed but you maintained your position against him. 
Bucky sighed. “Okay, guess we’re both cooling down..” Without another second of hesitation, he lifted you enough to get over the low lip of the shower stall and suddenly you were both encompassed by the cold stream from the shower head. 
He couldn’t help but laugh when you yelled out, startled by the extreme temperature change. You tried to bury yourself into his chest so he just moved you both even further into the water. Slowly, you pushed away from him and although it felt like your entire body was shivering, the cold water and cold air was the most refreshing thing you had ever experienced. 
Bucky squeezed your shoulders as you stood across from him. “Let me grab some towels.” You nodded and closed your eyes, turning around once he left the space and let the water stream down your face. You were already feeling a thousand percent better. 
You shut off the water when you heard Bucky come back into the bathroom. When he pulled the curtain open, you found him holding a towel out for you. He had managed to quickly change out of his previous damp clothes and was wearing just a pair of black sweats. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled out. You wrapped the towel around yourself and closed your eyes. While, yes, you were feeling better, a lingering nauseous feeling remained. 
Bucky motioned his head outside the bathroom and when you made it to the hallway, he turned you towards his bedroom. Before you could ask questions or argue, you crossed over the threshold and immediately you noticed how it was significantly colder in his room compared to the rest of the house. 
“This is how your window unit upstairs should be running,” he explained, motioning to the air conditioner that was running across the room. “Usually I don’t keep it this cold but -
You weren’t listening anymore. You stepped in and flopped down onto the bed, burying your face in the Buffalo plaid comforter. “Holy shit.” Bucky came back a few minutes later - when did he leave - and dropped a few pieces of clothing on the bed. 
“You should have told me it was getting that hot up there,” he sighed, watching as you remained still on the bed. “You’ve gotta get out of those wet clothes.” He left again, this time closing the door to give you some privacy. You stripped down and changed into the dry t-shirt and shorts he had acquired from your clothing upstairs, then you promptly returned to laying on the bed. 
You took a few deep breaths to collect your bearings and finally looked around the room. It was full of dated wooden furniture against the line walls, much like the rest of the house. On top of the long dressers, Bucky’s clothes were neatly piled alongside what appeared to be some weaponry. 
You chose to ignore that. 
You nearly fell asleep to the whirring of the air conditioner when Bucky came back to the room, carrying bottles of something and a box of crackers. He quietly asked you to sit up and you did, resting against the headboard while he sat in front of you sideways off the bed. 
“You know, when I was suggesting you drink water and wear sunscreen it wasn’t to be annoying.” He cracked open one of the bottles and handed it to you. “Drink.”
You took the bottle cautiously then took a sip, twisting your face in disgust. “That’s super gross.”
“It’s a high concentration of electrolytes. It’s not going to taste good.”
“Haven’t you heard of Gatorade?”
He rolled his eyes. “Drink.”
You did, but you made it well known you weren’t enjoying it. He opened up a sleeve of saltine crackers for you to nibble on, too. 
“I know those also taste like nothing. Recipe hasn’t changed in a hundred years apparently,” he said with a small smirk. 
“Don’t worry - I won’t, uh, how did you put it? I won’t throw a tantrum over it.”
Bucky sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. He turned and spoke your name quietly. “Listen, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Natasha just pissed me off and, well, that wasn’t a fair reaction.”
“I mean, I was basically throwing a tantrum.”
His lips lifted into a small smirk. “Maybe so but there was no need for my commentary on it.” 
You swallowed your last piece of cracker and shrugged. “Maybe we should start again. If we both don’t want to be here, it doesn’t mean we can’t make the most of it.”
“Well I’m clearly gonna have to keep a better eye on you since you’re incapable of drinking the proper amount of water every day. Nat would kill me if we had to do an emergency evacuation because you got heat stroke.”
You laughed at that one. “And if I didn’t die, she’d kill me too.” 
Once you finished the bottle of electrolytes, Bucky left another one on the small side table. “You can sleep in here from now on, I’ll take the couch.”
You shook your head. “No, that’s not fair. I can just -
He cut you off. “Grumpiest Man in the World is not arguing about this one. You nearly passed out earlier.” He sighed and stood up from the bed. “Please, I’ll feel better knowing you’re comfortable and rested.”
You just nodded through a yawn instead of getting into it further. “Okay. Fine. I guess I’ll sleep in this very comfortable bed and indulge in the cold air. If you insist.”
Bucky smirked, patting your leg as he turned towards the door. “Thank you. Wake me up if you need anything, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”
I think I got everyone here who wanted a tag!
Tag list: @theoneandonlygoat​ @bookstan0618​ @amigaytho​ @amb-reads​ @itsdawnashlie @shawnie--jo​ @xxpeachyxo​ @thesneakylittleminx​ @toothhurtyam​ @boofy1998​
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astro-rain · 5 months ago
delicate; b. barnes
chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”
delicate masterlist
word count: 4k
synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.
pairings: bucky x fem!reader
[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D
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The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.
"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.
Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.
"Your highness," he greeted.
He smiled bashfully at the title.
"I have some news for you."
Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.
"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."
Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.
- - -
"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.
The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.
"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."
Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."
She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."
"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."
"You're-... what?"
"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."
They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.
Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.
"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"
"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."
"It wasn't his fault."
"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."
"Was Rogers mad?"
"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."
He wasn't alone.
"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."
"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."
"I'll see you. Be safe."
"See you."
- - -
"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"
"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.
Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.
"Wilson," he deadpanned.
"Barnes," he returned the greeting.
"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."
"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."
"I'm not losing my head."
"You never had it in the first place."
The blonde changed the topic of conversation.
"You were with that therapist right?"
"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"
Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."
"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."
"You sure she's alright?"
He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.
"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."
"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."
Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"
Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.
"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."
"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."
"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."
"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"
"I didn't know they were friends."
"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"
"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."
"That true. She's crazy smart."
"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."
In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.
"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."
"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.
"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.
"It's a long story..."
"What did T'Challa say about it?"
"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.
"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."
Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.
"Where are you guys gonna stay?"
"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.
When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.
"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.
He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.
"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."
"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."
Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.
"Not like that!" he exclaimed.
She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"
"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"
"Oh, uh... are you sure?"
"Of course. I'd love to have you there."
She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"
"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."
Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.
"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.
She snickered.
"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."
The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.
"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"
"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.
"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"
The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."
Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.
"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.
"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."
"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.
"She calls you Buck."
"Yeah, so? You do too."
"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."
"She's my friend too," he shrugged.
"She's your doctor..."
"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."
"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"
Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-
He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."
Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"
"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."
Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.
The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.
"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.
"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.
"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.
Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.
"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"
"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."
The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.
He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?
He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.
After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.
He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.
The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.
Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.
He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.
She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.
He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.
"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.
"But you don't seem drunk?"
"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."
She rubbed her eyes.
"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."
Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.
He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"
Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?
"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."
Nevertheless, she cooperated.
She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."
"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.
"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."
"That why you were off all night?"
"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."
There was no hesitation when he spoke.
"I did."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"
"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."
"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"
She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.
"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."
He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.
"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."
She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.
He sat down with her, next to her.
"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"
"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."
"That's good 'cause I was worried before."
She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.
She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."
"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."
"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."
"You were counting my drinks?"
Not exactly.
"I was paying attention."
"To what?"
To you.
"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."
Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"
Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.
"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."
"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"
"I think you're the only person who sees me."
The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.
"Well I can't seem to look at much else."
He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.
"I see you now," she whispered.
"What do you mean?"
"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."
It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.
Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.
They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.
Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.
Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't... it's-"
"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."
He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.
"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."
"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."
He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.
Neither of them moved a muscle.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.
She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.
Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."
She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.
"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."
"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."
She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.
"Okay," she whispered.
She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.
He settled on a, "Goodnight."
He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.
Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."
He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.
On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.
He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.
This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?
Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...
Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.
It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.
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sky-writes-stuff · a month ago
Cosmic Glitch
Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader
Summary: You always believed your soulmate was somewhere out there and that one day you'd see color, but the day you met him you refused to accept it. (soulmate AU! where you can't see color until you first look into your soulmates eyes)
Warnings: use of y/n, swearing I think?, poorly written, clearly from my drafts, headcannon turned imagine, fluff <3
Word Count: 2.2K
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You had always been close with Sam ever since you served in the Air Force together, you were always up for any mission or task he needed help with.
After everyone was blipped back you had lost your job, so when Sam called you up asking you to tag along on a mission and promised compensation you couldn't turn him down.
You met Sam and Bucky in the garage and when the infamous Helmut Zemo walked in you locked eyes with him, and a fit a color exploded before you.
Zemo had stopped mid sentence
“I really don’t think I’m—“
Your heart sank deep into your chest
“Oh no” you said barely above a whisper.
“I uh, I’m not useful to this operation” he finished, stumbling over his words. Which you'd learn later on was very uncharacteristic of him.
You just stared at him as he nodded at you, a quiet hello.
Your luck was just impeccable wasn’t it? Zemo? Helmet fucking Zemo? It had to be him? The man that tore apart the avengers and bombed the UN for Christ sake! He was a fucking criminal!
The plane ride to Madripoor was above all else, awkward.
You barely spoke, not even making eye contact with anyone unless directly spoken to.
“You alright Y/n?” Sam asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.
You only nodded a small yes, feeling your soulmates prying eyes burning holes into the sight of Sam’s hand on your shoulder.
“Y/n, such a pretty name. I love the way it rolls off the tongue. Y/n.” Zemo said, toying with the sound of your name on his lips. Flustering you, but angering Bucky.
“Cool it Zemo, she’s just a kid.” He warned. Causing Zemo to wave Bucky off with his hand as he took a sip of his warm champagne.
But Bucky was right, you were just a kid. Your soulmate, the Baron for Christ sake, had to be at least 20 some years older than you.
Why did fate set you up with a man that was an adult before you were even born? Didn’t he have a wife before the battle of Sokovia? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic glitch.
I mean, it had to be... right?
Of course you wouldn’t be able to shake the Baron so easily, especially not when you needed a secret cover to pose as in Madripoor
There was only one role for you to play being so new on the “superhero” scene that you were unknown and considering you didn’t look like a single high profile criminal out there.
The Barons fiancé. His schatzi.
Obviously, you couldn’t just show up to a bar in low town in your suit either, so Zemo being ostentatious man that he is came prepared in the worst way possible.
You closed the door to first class and zipped open the black dress bag that Zemo handed you, telling you it would fit well with the part you were due to play.
A very short velvety plum dress sat in front of your color bound eyes. Ridiculously tall heels to match.
It was never something you’d wear out, you’d never have the confidence to wear such a short and expensive dress out to a bar of all places. But the material felt so good and with the new blessing of colored sight almost made you satisfied with outfit presented.
But you walked out fully dressed and maintained your attitude.
“Who am I supposed to be? A high-end hooker?” You quipped, trying to pull the hem of the dress down as far as it would go.
“You, schatzi, will be playing the part of my fiancé.” Zemo said simply. Fixing the cufflink on his left arm.
You stood there awestruck at what he had just said to you. It was hard enough for you to try and ignore that he was your soulmate but now you had to play the part?
“Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said, digging into his pocket and flicking a ring at you. You caught it, examining it and gasping softly. You had never seen a diamond so big.
You slipped it on your finger, it fit perfectly. Which, made you smile to yourself in a way you knew you shouldn’t have.
He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. You continually repeated to yourself the whole ride to low town, allowing yourself to think for even a second that just because he was your soulmate meant that he was a good person was not in the books. You simply couldn’t do it.
But as you arrived in the deeper part of Madripoor Zemo informed everyone that they must play their role to a T, because their lives depended on it.
As the car stopped Zemo walked around the side and opened the door for you, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hand as you stood upright.
You eyes trailed up to his as a blush became evident on your face, when you locked eyes, boom, another shockwave of color screamed into your eyes. You saw the detailing in his fur collar, the bright neon signage all around, the gold detailing in Bucky’s vibraium arm, all of it.
You wanted to see color forever, you hated knowing that if you went without seeing Zemo for too long, the color would fade out.
In ordeal at the bar came and went, the business with Selby is where things got interesting and simultaneously made you nervous.
For some reason it’s almost as if Zemo could sense this because he squeezed your hand tightly and you both sat down on the couch across from Selby.
After everyone else had either been introduced or acknowledged, all that was left was you.
“And who’s this pretty little thing you’ve got yourself here Zemo?” Selby asked, clearing prodding knowing he’d been married before.
“This...” he trailed off, grabbing your left hand to show off the ring “is my beautiful fiancé” he finished
“Oh, got yourself a little trophy wife after the other one kicked the can huh?" She added, staring down the large rock sitting on your finger.
“That’s very sweet of you to think, but this one here is my soulmate. The first woman to ever make me see in color.” Zemo said, his words so sweet honey might as well as been dripping off his tongue. His gaze turned to you, boom, another bright flash of color that made a shiver run down your spine.
“Oh how sweet, but I don’t believe it.” Selby said with a grin, Sam and Bucky tensed up slightly. Siding with Selby because they too didn’t believe Zemo when he referred to you as his soulmate.
“Test me.” You challenged, stupidly if I may add.
“Excuse me?” Selby asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you
“If you don’t believe we’re soulmates, test me. I can name any color you’d like.” You continued, a part of you always looking for a challenge, the other part also wanting to test yourself see if maybe this whole color thing was faulty or one-ended.
“Fine, we’ll start easy. What’s the color of that slutty dress you’ve got on?” She asked, angry that you challenged her
“Easy, the same color as my soulmates turtle neck. A deep purple, plum if you will.” You said carefully caressing the material of Zemo’s shirt
“You could’ve been told that before you arrived, what about my lipstick?” She pressed as she pursed her lips out
“A cheap magenta” you deadpanned, done with her games. She scoffed at you.
“And this couch?” She asked grinning, patting the cushion beside her.
“Trick question. It’s a old a dirty worn out pattern, it has no specific color” you said with a fake smile, Zemo’s hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you a little closer.
The room fell silent just long enough for things to feel awkward before Selby started laughing uncontrollably.
“Well Baron, the universe certainly has picked you a handful! Now what business did you want to do with me again?” And just like that, it was over and you were suddenly running from bounty hunters on the streets.
When Sharon rescued the four of you the ride up to her place in high town was painfully silent. Zemo kept a firm hand on your thigh. Bucky stared off into space ashamed of how easily he fell back into form, and Sam sat on his thoughts wondering if you and Zemo were really soulmates.
No one really spoke to each other, just different conversations with Sharon. After what went down at the Bar and then with Selby... a mood was set, things had changed.
When Zemo stood up and announced he wanted to go join the party and made his way towards the exit you told Bucky you’d keep on eye on him. Sam wanted to protest but at that point you both were already out the door.
You sat from afar watching Zemo on the floor of the club horribly attempting to dance along with the rest of the party-goers. When you laughed a little to yourself he looked up at you, boom, that beautiful shock of color again. It never got old.
But you quickly averted your eyes and disappeared from his gaze as you went to the bar for a drink. When the bartender slid your drink over suddenly Zemo was at your side announcing he’d pay for it.
Zemo started to snake his hand around your waist once more but this time you smacked his hand away
“We’re not playing house anymore, Baron.” You told him, using his formal title.
“But you see what I see, do you not?” He asked, tentatively reaching for your hand.
“See what?” You asked, avoiding his burning gaze. You knew damn well what he was taking about but refused to admit to even yourself. He was a horrible man, a criminal, a rich psychopath! It ached your heart that someone with such a shitty past was who you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.
“The beautiful colors. I see your bright eyes, your sleek hair, those sweet pink lips. Now color is all around me too, I can see the colors of the club. I see the blue radiating off that light, the red in this drink you ordered, the green that lady’s hair! You love opened my eyes, Y/n. With you, I can see.” Zemo pressed on, smiling as he looked in awe at all the colors around him. He placed his hand gently over yours. You flinched but didn’t move away from his touch
“But this has to be wrong. I can’t be the person for you. You had a wife and kids right? Didn’t they bring any color into your life?” You asked, feeling a warm heat rise to your cheeks from the small contact you two were now sharing
“I loved my wife and son sure, but they were always grey to me. Remember that I’m a Baron, when you’re royalty your marriage options aren’t as wide as the universe has set for you.” He pointed out, taking your hand and slowly rubbing your knuckles.
“Still surely this has to be some kind of universal glitch! I mean you’re what? 20 some years older than me? What about all the horrible shit you’ve done? You’re a criminal! I was made to be a hero! We don’t mix, let alone fall in love!” You babbled on
“Listen, y/n. I am not proud of my past, I was a grief stricken man who had just lost his wife and child along with his entire country. I was only doing what I believed to be right at the moment, is that not what you try to do as well?” He asked, trying to find similarities between the two of you. Some common ground.
“Zemo I—“ you started, turning to face him and looking into his hazel brown eyes again and feeling that boom of color that would never get old, but did make you lose your train of thought.
“Zemo I’m scared” you finished off, your planned statement turning into a confession. You didn’t take your eyes off his this time as he stared back down at you. Bring his free hand to your cheek he smiled softly.
“I’m scared too, schatzi. But the feeling you give me makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Stay with me, ride this out and see where it goes. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, sport cars, you name it and I’ll buy it for you. I’ll fly you any place you’ve ever wanted to go, show you every sight you’ll ever need to see.” He tools breathe, a single tear slipping down his face.
“Please, let’s give this a shot.” He ended. Nine years with losing your wife, child, country, and being imprisoned for a few years really changed a man; and made him that much more desperate for someone like you, his soulmate, to stay.
And stay you did. The first year was rocky wrapping things up with the super soldiers on the loose and clearing Zemo’s name in the eyes of the Power Broker and the UN. Based on his efforts to take down the last of the super soldiers and good words from Sam and Bucky his sentence was reduced to one year under house arrest, which made for a great way to get to know each other better.
The years after that were far beyond smooth sailing, they were dare you even say perfect. You traveled the world with Zemo, lived the most lavish life, saw the most amazing things.
All in color.
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viperbarnes · 4 months ago
The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]
[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]
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Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.
You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.
But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.
Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.
Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!
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You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.
It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.
“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.
“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.
“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.
Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.
Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.
“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.
“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.
“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.
The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.
“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.
“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.
You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.
Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.
You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.
But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.
An almost friend.
You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.
“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.
You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.
“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.
“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.
“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.
“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.
“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.
“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.
“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.
“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.
Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.
The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.
Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.
You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.
Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.
“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.
Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.
A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.
“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.
“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.
Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.
“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.
“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.
“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.
“I’ll fix it.”
Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.
A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.
You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.
He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.
But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.
It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.
He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.
You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.
Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.
“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”
The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.
Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.
“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.
“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.
“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.
“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.
“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”
Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.
He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.
He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.
“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.
“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”
Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.
“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.
From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.
“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.
Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.
“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”
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If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!
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waitimcomingtoo · a year ago
The Spectrum
Pairing: Peter Parker x Autistic!Reader
Synopsis: You join the Avengers and get off on the wrong foot 
Authors note: this was inspired by a reader of mine and Greys Anatomy.
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“Avengers. I found the cutest little kitten outside the 99th precinct but alas, Pepper said no.” Tony sighed dramaticaly. “I did, however, get to keep the highest ranking officer in her division, Y/n.”
Tony stepped aside to reveal you. You nervously pulled on your fingers as you feigned a smile.
“Hello everyone.” You blinked repeatedly as you looked around the room.
“He recruited another child? Great. As if Parker wasn’t bad enough.” Sam thought as he rolled his eyes.
“She looks like she’s still in high school.” Steve thought as he gave you a smile. “What was Tony thinking?”
“I think I left my straightener on.” Bucky thought. “Wait a minute, how old is this girl?”
“I’m 22.” You answered and Bucky looked at you curiously.
“Did I mention she’s telepathic?” Tony smiled proudly and your face flushed. The room looked a little impressed and a little skeptic, which was the usual response.
“Oh, great. So no more privacy.” Rhodey thought as he made knowing eyes at the other guys in the group.
“Who’s that?” You heard someones thoughts behind you a few seconds before you heard their footsteps.
“Oh, Peter. This is Y/n. She’s joining the team.” Tony introduced you as he turned around. A boy your age was standing in the doorway with wide eyes as you smiled at him.
“Oh my God, she’s so pretty.” Peter thought and looked down at his hands. “My hand is gonna be so clammy if she shakes it.”
“I don’t shake hands, so it’s okay.” You assured him and his eyes got wider.
“Did I say that out loud?” He looked at Tony fearfully for answers and was met with his cocky smirk.
“Nope. She heard you.” He shrugged and Peter looked at you with confusion.
“You can read minds?” He asked.
“Here we go.” Sams thoughts sounded behind you.
“Parker found a girlfriend.” Rhodey thought and laughed to himself.
“Yeah, I can.” You said shyly and twisted the ends of your hair between your fingers.
“That’s amazing! That’s gonna be super useful.” Peter praised you and you stopped twisting your hair. “Can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”
You looked at him for a moment as you read him mind.
“You’re thinking about where you can buy Gushers because you haven’t had them in a long time.” You chuckled when you heard what he was thinking.
“That’s right.” He gasped. “Also, does anyone know where I can buy Gushers?”
“7/11.” Bucky answered immediately.
“That’s my man.” Steve thought proudly.
“Why don’t you two go together? Get to know each other before your mission tomorrow.” Tony suggested and you looked at Peter for his approval. Peter nodded and you blinked a few times.
“Come on. I’ll swing us there.” Peter nodded towards the door.
“Swing?” You asked as you followed him out.
“They’re so gonna bone.” Tony thought as you and Peter left together. You shot him a look as Peter explained his superpowers to you.
The following day, you sat on a jet with a few of the Avengers as you flew to your first mission.
You went over the plans Tony had laid out in your head as you twisted your hair between your fingers.
All you had to do was land and go straight to the power core. A dirty CEO known as Maverick had opened a portal to import weapons from Nidavellir. Your mission was to close the portal by shutting down the power core. It was simple enough as long as you followed the rules.
And you always followed the rules.
“Wait, I’m getting something.” You shut your eyes as you neared the building. You could hear lots of voices coming from inside. “The lobby is full of guards.“
“We didn’t account for guards.” Peter looked at everyone in a panic.
“What should we do? Curl Bucky’s hair and dress him up like a pretty girl and distract them?” Sam laughed and folded his arms.
“Why would we do that?” You asked him.
“It was a joke.” Sam looked at curiously and you realized you missed a social cue.
“Oh. Funny!” You faked a laugh and twisted your hair between your fingers.
“Weirdo.” Sam thought and looked at Bucky. They both laughed and you looked down sadly. Peter caught your solemn expression and shot an angry look at the boys.
“We should split up and try to take out as many guards as we can.” Bucky suggested.
“But that’s not the mission.” You said immediately. “Mr. Stark said to go directly to the power core and shut the portal down. We should just go around the back.”
“Yeah, but Tony didn’t know there was gonna be an army of guards waiting for us. We can take out the guards and then go to the power core.” Sam defended Bucky. You repeatedly punched the side of your thigh and blinked a few times.
“But that’s not what Mr. Stark told us to do.” You tried to stay calm. Peter noticed your movements and silently researched what you were doing.
“Well he isn’t here right now. He’s dealing with his thing, so we’re dealing with ours.” Sam said to you and it was clear you weren’t going to win this fight. “Is everyone okay with the plan?”
“No. We have to stick to the original plan.” You said again and blinked rapidly as your stress levels rose.
“Listen, I know you’re new, but this is how things go around here. Sometimes, plans change and we have to make out own calls. We can’t always be teachers pet and follow the rules.” Bucky added. You blinked more and let out a short breath.
“I’m not being a teachers pet.” You said quietly.
“How about Y/n and I go to the power core and Sam and Bucky handle the guards?” Peter tried to appease both sides.
“Fine with me.” Sam shrugged and you sighed in relief. You stopped your movements and Peter smiled.
“Glad we have a diva on board.” Sam thought.
“She better not do this every mission.” Bucky thought as he eyed you.
“I wish I brought my Gushers.” Peter thought.
You looked down and let their thoughts roll off of you. You had to focus on the mission right now, not what the team thought of you.
No matter how much it hurt.
“We’re here.” Sam said and you snapped out of your thoughts.
“Let’s roll.”
You got off the jet and parted ways. You and Peter traveled to the basement where the power core was located in silence.
“Don’t think about it. She can hear your thoughts. Just don’t think about it.” He thought as you walked down the steps. You chuckled slightly and looked at him.
“You’re thinking pretty hard about whatever you’re trying not to think about.” You commented.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never been around a mind reader before.” Peter laughed shyly. “I’m trying so hard to keep it PG up there. I never realized how much I think about boobs.”
“I cannot believe you just said that, you donkey.” Peter thought and you laughed again.
“It’s all right.” You assured him. “I’ve been reading minds all my life. There is nothing you could possibly think that I haven’t heard before.”
“I am so pathetic for crushing on her her second day into the job but she is making it so damn hard not to.” Peter thought as he smiled at you from under his mask. Your face flushed as you approached the power core. It wasn’t fair that you had heard his most intimate thoughts, so you kept your mouth shut to preserve his dignity.
“I like you too.” You thought.
You and Peter came to the power core and examined the holographic boarder around it.
“It’s gonna take me a minute to access the actual core. Maverick set up a bunch of firewalls.” Peter said as he began to get to work.
“Can you crack it?” You asked him.
“Please, I’m a nerd. Of course I can crack it.”
“Cool.” You nodded and watched him work.
“I’m glad she’s with me though.” He thought as he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. “I hope this impresses her.”
Peters hands moved rapidly as he took down the walls one by one. Your eyes watched him work, impressed with how efficiently he was moving.
“Firewalls down.” He announced and looked at you for approval to move forward.
“I hope she thought that was cool.” Peter thought desperately. You decided to throw him a bone, just because you could. 
“Great.” You smiled. “That was impressive. You’re really cool, Peter.”
The tips of Peters ears turned pink under his mask and he was glad you couldn’t see it.
“We’re here. We took out the guards.” Sam and Bucky entered the basement and walked to where you were.
“Peter got through to the core. We just have to shut it down now.” You caught them up on the mission and they nodded.
“How do we turn it off?” Bucky gestured to the glowing orange core as metal bars revolved around it.
“There are directions on the side to power it down.” Peter discovered as he walked around the color. You came to Peters side and read the directions over a few times until they were engrained in your brain.
“Un uh. There’s a hundred steps and we are low on time.” Sam said as he came behind you and Peter to read the directions. “I’m just gonna rip the wires out.”
Sam moved forward but you held out your arm to stop him.
“You don’t know what that will do. We have to follow the rules.” You protested and Sam looked at the ceiling.
“What is with you and rules?” He said but thought, “Is she really that stuck up?”
You heard both, and they both hurt. Sam and Bucky shared annoyed looks and you pulled your lip between your teeth.
“Sam, lay off. This is her first mission.” Peter spoke up and you gave him a grateful smile.
“And she’s gonna ruin it for all of us if she keeps trying to become Tony’s favorite by following all the rules.” Sam shot back.
You balled your hand into a fist and began to punch the side of your thigh as Bucky ripped the side of the machine open to expose the wires. As soon as Sam ripped the wires out, the buildings power shut off. Red lights turned on and an alarm started to sound. You immediately clenched up and covered your ears as tightly as you could, the loud sound sending you into overload. Bucky and Sam scrambled for a way to shut off the alarm, looking all around the room for a way to turn it off. Peter noticed your demeanor as you began to rock back and forth. He took off his mask and held it in front of you before asking you to open your eyes. 
“Hey, Y/n? Look at my mask. Can you try to focus on this?” He asked calmy as you slowly unclenched your eyes.  Sam noticed what Peter was doing and paused for a moment before continuing his search.
“It’s really loud.” You mumbled but Peter heard it because of his advanced hearing.
“I know. Don’t focus on the sound, okay? Focus on the mask. What color is it?” Peter asked you and you blinked a few times.
“Good!” Peter smiled in relief. “Can You name five other red things for me?” 
“Apples, the star on Buckys arm, um...” You trailed off. “Thats all I can think of right now.”
“That’s okay!” Peter assurred you. “Focus on the mask. What can you tell me about the eyes?”
“They’re black and white. They move when your eyes move.” 
“That’s really good, Y/n. Can you think of anything else thats black and white?” Peter asked. Sam and Bucky snuck glances at you and Peter as they continued to look for a way to shut off the alarm. They didnt admit it, but they were highly impressed. 
“Um, umm...” You tried to think but your mind was blanking out. 
“Us.” Sam spoke up when he saw you struggling, gesturing to him and Bucky. You smiled a little and nodded. Peter’s technique was working until Bucky pushed a buttom that triggered another alarm. Your body tensed up again and you got on the ground, pulling your knees to your chest as you covered your ears. Peter got on the ground as well but gave you space.
“Put your head between your knees and breath with me. Just focus on the sound of my voice.” Peter commanded and you obeyed. He breathed loud, long breaths until yu were able to match your breathing with his.  
“That’s it.” Peter encouraged. “Just listen to me.”
You calmed down enough to walk over to the wall and type a passcode into the alarm system. The alarm shut off and the room fell silent.
“How’d you know how to turn it off?” Sam asked after a beat of silence.
“I can hear the thoughts of one of the guards.” You panted. “He’s on his way up here. We have to leave.”
Everyone went out they way you came and boarded the jet before the guards could pile into the basement. You stared out the window and thought about everything you could to down out everyone else’s thoughts. Even if they weren’t bad, you just didn’t want to hear them.
“What happened out there?” Tony demanded as soon as you stepped off the jet. “Whats this I hear about guards being hospitalized?”
You and Peter shared looks and Bucky and Sam looked at each other. No one wanted to be the first to speak and admit what had gone wrong.
“We took out some of Mavericks men before we went to the power core.” Sam began.
“The mission was going fine before Y/n messed it up.” Bucky mumbled and you shot him a look.
“I messed it up?” You scoffed in disbelief. “You two set off the alarm when you ripped out the wires.”
“If you hadn’t been pestering me about the rules, I could’ve figured out the right way to turn off the power.” Sam folded his arms as he stood his ground.
“You mean like the directions I told you to read?” You shot back. Tony looked at Peter for answers and Peter sighed.
“She’s right, Sam. You didn’t listen to her.” Peter sided with you.
“Is that true, Sam?” Tony raised his eyebrows. Sam looked at you angrily before addressing Tony.
“We didn’t have time to read the directions. Parker’s only standing up for her because he’s got a crush.” Sam retorted.
“I do not.” Peter sputtered as he thought, “How did he figure it out so fast?”
“Silence, children. Daddy’s talking.” Tony sighed and tapped his finger against his lips. “I didn’t want anyone going after the guards because Maverick has his own private security system. The guards Frick and Frack over here took down didn’t even work for him.”
“Am I Frick?” Bucky wondered and shot you a look when you chuckled softly. You quickly stopped laughing and looked at Tony. 
“I said straight to the power core, did I not?” Tony laughed humorlessly as he looked at the four of you. “I didn’t say take a detour, grab a cake pop and beat up random guards. I said go straight to the power core. How come Y/n is the only one that listened?”
“Because she came from the NYPD, all stuck up and ready to please Mr. Stark.” Sam said with cheerful sarcasm. You kept your eyes down as you lightly punched your thigh.
“Wrong. Because she’s smart.” Tony determined and you stopped your movements. “And she will be coming with me on the next mission, not you two. Meeting adjourned.”
You left the room before you could catch the dirty looks from Sam and Bucky.
Their thoughts were enough.
“Good morning everyone.” You smiled brightly at the team the next morning. It was a new day and you were putting the past behind you. Sam and Bucky kept their eyes down as Sam and Rhodey gave you tight smiles.
“Good morning.” Steve nodded stiffly and went back to his newspaper. You took a seat at the table, fully aware of the tension in the room.
“Be nice. She’s just a kid.” Steve thought as he rolled his eyes. You blinked a few times but tried to hide the fact that you heard that.
“I can’t believe she got Sam in trouble.” Rhodey thought and your breath hitched in your throat.
“What? Sam didn’t follow the mission plan. That’s why he got in trouble.” You spoke up and everyone looked at you.
“What?” Rhodey looked up from his mug and you shrunk into your seat.
“Sorry, I uh, I heard your thoughts.”
“I know you’re new around here, Y/n, but we don’t exactly tattle on each other.” Steve said as politely as he could. You looked around at all the faces of your team mates and realized they were all in agreement.
“I didn’t tattle. Mr. Stark already knew what happened when we got back.” You quietly defended yourself.
“That doesn’t matter. You still questioned my decisions and that could’ve cost us the mission.” Sam cut in and suddenly, the whole team was against you.
“You not following the rules is what could’ve cost us the mission. That’s what Mr. Stark said.” Your voice faltered as you tried to keep your calm. It was only your third day and already the team hated you. Your hands went to the ends of your hair and you began to twist.
“Right.” Sam nodded stiffly and sipped his coffee.
“Again with the rules! I do not know what Mr. Stark saw in this girl. Other than reading minds, she is just a child with no place on the Avengers. I saw her on the jet. All nervous, blinking a hundred times a minute and twisting her hair. She could barely keep it together. And then she goes and tries to undermine me? Please.” Sam thought.
“Those are tics. I tic.” You mumbled and began to blink rapidly as your stress increased.
“What was that?” Rhodey asked, noticing your movements and feeling sympathetic towards you.
“This is what happens when Tony puts children on the team.” Steve thought as he shook his head. His words stung you, having heard them many times before.
“You guys don’t think I belong on the Avengers?” You whispered, not bothering to hide how hurt you were. The men exchanged looks and cleared their throats.
“No one said that.” Steve told you.
“But you thought it.” You stated. “You don’t think I belong here.”
“Y/n, we’re not trying to be mean, but we have to put the safety of this team before everything. No one said anything and you’re already upset. How are you supposed to stand in front of actual bad guys and take them down? I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel. It’s how we all feel.” Steve shrugged with remorse. “We don’t think you belong on this team.”
“He told me I’d belong here.” You muttered to yourself as you tried to make sense of it.
“What?” Rhodey asked you, beginning to worry they had been too mean.
“I have to go.” You stood up quickly and rushed out of the room.
Peter almost bumped into you as he walked into the kitchen. His heightened senses picked up on your sniffling as you wiped your face. The first thing Peter noticed was the guilty expression painting on everyone’s face as they sat around the table.
“What happened to Y/n?” He pointed over his shoulder and everyone looked down.
“What did you guys do?” He asked again, demanding answers this time.
“We just told her the truth. Or we thought the truth.” Sam rolled his eyes and set his mug down. He tried to pick it back up again but Peter webbed it to the table.
“Is there a reason you guys don’t like her?” Peter asked angrily as Sam tugged on his mug.
“Is there a reason you do like her, other than the fact that she’s pretty and your age?” He shot back.
“Yes.” Peter snapped. “She’s also kind and funny and really good at her job. What is wrong with you guys?” He shook his head is disdain and realized they were the reason you were crying.
“We’ve been dealing with these kinds of things a lot longer than you have, Peter. You don’t understand what it’s like to have someone brand new waltz into your territory and try to tell you what to do.” Rhodey shrugged as he tried to explain his side of it.
“She wasn’t telling you what to do. She was just trying to follow the rules.” Peter expressed and shut his eyes. “God, it was her first day and I just saw her in tears. Are you guys honestly happy with how you treated her?”
To Peters surprise, the men at the table looked shocked.
“She was crying?” Steve asked quietly. Sam chewed on his lip as he realized what he had done. Even if you annoyed him, you were still a child. He should have known better than to throw you under the bus.
“Yeah. Wonder why.” Peter scoffed and left the room. He went to find you, but you were nowhere to be found. In fact, the rest of the Avengers tried to look for you too with apologies equipped and ready. It wasn’t until it was time to go home that Sam caught you in the elevator. The elevator doors opened and your eyes met Sams. You gave him a weak smile and he returned it.
“Hey.” He nodded politely.
“Hey.” You replied as you stepped onto the elevator.
“Look, I don’t know how they did it over at the NYPD, but things run a little differently around here. I don’t care if you were the biggest, baddest cop on the streets because of your little mind reading trick. You’re with the Avengers now. If you want my trust and respect, you have to earn it.” He said calmly. He wasn’t trying to reproach you, just set some boundaries. You nodded slowly and looked him in the eyes.
“Are you familiar with Asperger syndrome, Sam?” You asked him. He narrowed his eyes at you, not understanding what you were trying to say.
“If this is about…” He began to speak but trailed off. He was familiar with Aspergers. He had a cousin with Aspergers. A cousin who had a sensitivity to loud sounds and liked to follow a rigid schedule. A cousin who chewed on his fingers when he was stimming. Or as you called it earlier, tics. 
“You’re going through the symptoms in your mind.” You read his thoughts as he thought about his cousins stims. “Aaaand, you’ve made the connection.”
“I didn’t know.” Sam said quietly as he looked at you. You shrugged and met his eyes.
“No, you didn’t know.” You agreed. “But you still made me feel bad for the way I behave.”
“I never would’ve teased you if I had known you were autistic.”
You let out a breath when he said the word, feeling the weight of your secret lifting off your shoulders. If he knew one thing about you, he could know the rest.
“I was the only woman at my precinct before Mr. Stark recruited me.” You began and he gave you his full attention. “I would have to go into work every single day and get objectified, teased, and talked down to by my coworkers. They didn’t even know about my telepathy. They called me Officer Model.”
Sam could hear the pain in your voice and felt bad for making your new work environment as bad as your old one.
“Sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely.
“Yeah, me too.” You laughed sadly. “It was hard to enjoy the work when I was doing when my environment was so abrasive. It almost made me quit. But then, Mr. Stark found me.” You smiled to yourself. “I was hesitant to join the Avengers because I couldn’t handle getting rejected again, but he promised me that I belonged here. He told me that the Avengers were made up of the kindest, most genuine people he’d ever met.”
You looked at Sam up and down and shrugged.
“He must’ve been talking about somebody else.”
The weight of what you said hit Sam like a knife and he let out a breath as if he had been punched in the stomach.
“Y/n…” He began but he had no idea what to say. You were counting on coming to a better place and Sam had been one of the factors making it worse.
“I don’t think I like this job very much.” You spoke softly as the elevator doors opened. You gave him one last look as he opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. “Have a good night.” You smiled weakly at him and walked out of the elevator. Sam watched you leave, thinking about what he had done with every step you took.
As soon as you walked into the kitchen the next morning, everyone’s eyes were on you. Everyones thoughts flooded in at once and you knew what was going on.
“You told.” You looked at Sam in betrayal and felt tears rising in your eyes.
“I thought they should know.” He said and your face twisted in pain. He thought he was making the right move, but the look on your face made him think otherwise.
“That wasn’t your secret to tell.” You tilted your head in confusion. You thought your conversation with him was gonna change things around the tower, but it only made things worse. Instead of disliking you, they pitied you. Somehow, that made you feel even worse.
“Y/n, it’s okay.” Steve spoke up. “Nobody here thinks any differently of you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You laughed sadly. “It’s not like anyone liked me before.”
“Y/n-“ Rhodey spoke up but you shook your head.
“I don’t want to hear it.” You cut him off. You looked around the room once last time and left it.
You ran out of the room and down a flight of stairs until you found a bench to sit on. Your bottom lip trembled as a sob rose in your throat. Hot tears of shame, embarrassment, and misery ran down your cheeks. You buried your face in your hands and cried into them, body shaking with hallow sobs. The door opening caught your attention and you looked up from your hands to see Peter.
“Go away." You croaked and wiped your face with the back of your hands.
"You don't have to talk to me or tell me anything. I'm just gonna sit here with you." Peter said calmly as he took a seat next to you. True to his word, he kept his mouth shut and sat with you in silence.
"Please, just leave." You said weakly. You didn’t want anyones pity, especially not his.
"I'm not leaving until you smile." Peter stated. You picked your head up and looked at him through glassy eyes. You knew you looked awful, mascara running down your face and snot coming out of your nose, but Peter wasn't phased. He just gave you a gentle smile and his company.
"It's called Aspergers." You said suddenly, before thinking it through. He knew anyway, he might as well hear it from you. Something about Peters gentle manor told you you could trust him.
"You don't have to tell me-" Peter began to speak but you cut him off.
"Its okay.” You assured him and he quieted down. It's called Aspergers and it's a form of autism. I was diagnosed when I was 7, the first time I had an episode."
You watched his reaction carefully and went on when he didn't show any signs of judgment.
"I was a quiet kid. I used to get in a lot of fights but I didn’t talk much other wise. That kept me from making many friends. My mom just thought I was shy.” You shrugged. “But I was in the kitchen one day when our burglar alarm went off. My mom had opened the door to let the dog out without turning the alarm off first, so it went off. I had never heard it until that day. It's loud. Really loud.” You shut your eyes as you remembered, the sound of the alarm distant in your mind. “It's supposed to wake you up incase someone breaks in while you're asleep. I don't really remember what happened when the alarm first went off. I just remember my mom finding me underneath the table, screaming. I couldn't speak for hours afterwards. She took me to the doctor to find out why I had such a bad reaction to the sound. They ran some tests and found out I had Aspergers."
Peter nodded as he processed what you told him. You held your breath as you waited for his response.
"You're not really what I picture when I picture someone with autism." Peter said after a minute of silence.
"That's because there's a lot of misconceptions about people with autism. It's a spectrum.” You explained. “Some people are just further along than others. I'm not that far down on the spectrum. Some people are completely non-verbal because of their autism. Others, like me, just have trouble doing certain things, like reading body language or responding to change. And of course, my sensitivity to sound. I need things to be straightforward. I live my life in patterns. I don't like it when things change.“
“That’s why you follow the rules so closely.” Peter realized.
“Yeah. I’m not stuck up, I just don’t response well to sudden change.” You told him and he install felt guilty for not sticking up for you in front of Sam. “Autism is never really depicted like that on television. Autistic characters are usually just weird, dumb boys. Real people with autism aren't like that. Some are actually incredibly brilliant. Others just need a little more help. It's different for everyone.”
"I had no idea." Peter said softly.
"That's because I didn't want anyone to know. And now they do." You groaned and hung your head in shame.
"Maybe it won't be as bad as you think. So you have autism. So what? You're still the smartest, most beautiful, and biggest badass I’ve ever met.” Peter laughed shyly, making you look up at him fondly. “This won't change that. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. So get back in there and let everyone know you're still the HBIC."
"HBIC?" You asked.
"Head bitch in charge." He said sheepishly and you cracked a smile.
"There. I smiled. You can leave now." You teased and nudged him slightly.
"I don't want to." Peter said quietly and touched your hand with his pinky. You took the initiative to lock your hands together and gave his an appreciative squeeze.
“Y/n”, Peter began, “you're not any less of a person because of this. You're still the amazing cop who got recruited to the Avengers. You’re one of earths mightiest heroes, and you always have been. So, don't start doubting yourself now. You're one of a kind, and your autism just makes you even more unique."
"Maybe I don't want to be unique. Maybe I just want to be normal." You said softly.
"Normal is boring. And you, miss, are never boring. Go back in there. Show them who's boss." Peter urged you. You gave him one last smile and kissed his cheek before standing up up. Peter stayed seated, still recovering from the kiss as he touched light fingertips to where your lips were.
"You coming?" You asked and Peter smiled proudly at you as you stood up.
"Right behind you."
Peter lead you back to the common room where the Avengers were waiting. They all stood up upon your entry and you furrowed your brows in confusion.
“We wanted to apologize.” Steve said and the rest of the Avengers nodded.
“Okay.” You looked at Peter nervously and gave them your attention.
“I fought in a war. I should know better than to tell someone they don’t belong somewhere.” Steve apologized. “I joined this team because I wanted to fight for the little guy. And here I was, making her cry. I’m sorry for what I said, er, thought. You do belong. Of course you belong.”
“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that.” You nodded at him and looked to Bucky.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like an outsider.” He said sincerely. “I should’ve known better too.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m sorry I put regular milk in your coffee yesterday morning when you asked for almond milk.” Tony clinked his mug against the table before taking a sip.
“It’s okay.” You laughed lightly.
“I know I have to say something, but she probably hates me.” Sam thought, still too ashamed to speak to you.
“I don’t hate you.” You looked directly at him and he sucked in a breath.
“You should.” He said and you shook your head.
“I don’t hate anyone.” You assured him. Sam stood up and made his way over to you.
“I’m so sorry for how I treated you.” He said sincerely. “I don’t have an excuse.”
“I wouldn’t want an excuse.”
“What do you want? How can I make it up to you?” He asked desperately.
“Educate yourself. Learn about it and how to help me when I need it.” You told him and put your hand in Peters shoulder. “Peter knew making me focus on something would help me when I was overstimulated by the alarm. Maybe you could learn a few things from him.”
“How’d you know?” Sam asked him.
“I suspected she had it on the jet. I was reading some articles while you guys fought over the mission plan.” Peter answered.
“Then we’ll do that too.” Sam nodded at you and you believed him.
“Thanks.” You smiled in appreciation at him and he smiled back.
“Mr. Stark, I’d like to propose Y/n designs the mission plans from now on.” Sam said to Tony. “She knew what she was doing more than any of us. I think she’s a great addition to this team.”
“That’s fine with me.” Tony shrugged. “I need to make more time for my water coloring anyway. What do you say, Y/n?”
“Only if Peter designs them with me.” You answered. “I couldn’t have completed the mission without him.”
Peter smiled proudly and gave you a grateful smile.
“I am so falling in love with this girl.” He thought and you beamed.
“All right. Then it’s settled. Two 22 year olds will be running the Avengers. I’m gonna get so much water coloring done.” Tony rubbed his hands together in excitement.
“What are you gonna paint?” Steve humored him. Tony looked at you and Peter, still caught in a loving gaze, and smirked.
“These two.” He decided. “To honor our new team leaders. They make a great couple, don’t you think?”
“I do.” Peter thought.
“So do I.” You said out loud.
Tag List 🏷
@maybemona @foreverxholland​ @damnyoudameron​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @spideygirl2003​ @the-crazy-fanfictionist​ @maryjanee23​ @spacebitch2​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @jillanaholland​ @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @wendaiii​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @hes-amarillo​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @silteplaittais-toi​ @kickingn-ames​ @purefluff​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @lou-la-lou​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @ohnothezombies​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland @parkerxpeterr
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sj-ficrecs · 4 months ago
1,000+ followers fic rec!
Recently noticed at some point a little while ago I passed 1,000 followers on this page! In honor of that here’s another fic rec of some good ones I’ve been reading lately. As usual, no specific order. 
(Hopefully this shows up in tags bc my last one didn’t & tumblr wouldn’t fix it) 
Thanks to @whimsicalrogers for this divider I’m using below :)
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Bucky x reader:
3B by @softlybarnes Bucky x reader
“Bucky is used to being alone, so is the girl living in apartment 3B. He keeps to his routine, to crossing off amends. But mutual loneliness forges an unlikely friendship. Alone and reclusive, sweet and incredibly strange, with deep secrets and regrets, 3B has more to reveal than meets the eye.”
(un)cool by @belowva rockstar!Bucky x reader
“in the summer of 1973, after covering the howling commandos’ concert for a night, you - a young and inexperienced music journalist - accidentally end up following the up and coming band from new york city across the country. between shows, parties, backstage nonsense, interviews and failed attempts at writing a cover story for rolling stone magazine, you end up developing a love/hate relationship with their brooding, but devilishly handsome, guitarist james “call me bucky” barnes. (based on “almost famous”)”
Your Song by @summergrls​  Rockstar!Bucky x reader
“it’s not summer without you. or, that’s what your favorite rockstar always says. it’s all happening.”
Last Love by @wicked-mind Modern!Bucky x reader
“Based on the quote “He may be your first love but I intend to be your last” by Klaus Mikaelson.”
Remember Me by @wicked-mind​ Modern!Bucky x reader
“Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?”
Cake by @tellmealovestory (Part of the Something More universe) Modern!Bucky x reader
“The wedding plans continue as you and Bucky try to decide on a cake flavor.”
My Eyes by @invisibleanonymousmonsters Bucky x reader, past Steve x reader
“Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.”
The Mess by @sanguineterrain​ Bucky x Avenger!reader
“A wild night in Vegas changes everything between you and Bucky. Suddenly, all eyes are on you and you’re left wondering just how much can change between you and a man whose guts you hate (and who also hates yours).”
The Devil Has Lilith by @write-orflight Bucky x reader, soulmate AU
“They say your soulmate is supposed to be the one person you love unconditionally. So why did they make yours so insufferable?”
College!Bucky series / Couldn’t Be Me by @drunken-imagines College!Bucky x reader
Bucky is a known fuck boy trying to win over reader
Best of Friends by @anna-phora Modern!Bucky x reader
“When your best friend steals marries Bucky’s best friend, the two of you are left with only one solution: to become best friends yourselves.”
Back to You by @celestialbarnes Modern!ex-Bucky x reader
“desperate to find a place to stay after your boyfriend cheated on you, you end up crashing at bucky’s apartment, the problem is he’s the ex that you never really got over and he’s got a new girl who doesn’t like you very much.”
It’s Been a Long, Long Time by @luminnara Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader
“When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back…and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!“
Friends Don’t by @watchtowerindistress Bucky x reader
“Reader is in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Bucky Barnes. Rule #1: no feelings - so don’t get attached (written by Bucky). Rule #2: don’t ever stay over (written by (Y/N)). After a fateful mission, one of them is going to break all the rules.”
Just a Touch by @buckychrist Bucky x reader
“Your powers? Controlling any feeling a human can have, from emotions to pain, with a simple brush of your fingertips. Your mission? The traumatized soldier with sad stricken eyes and scream filled nightmares.”
Under Pastel Skies by @redgillan Modern!Bucky x Artist!reader
“Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.”
A Long Ways Away by @ai-unknown Bucky x reader
“Connection, reconnection, and a small miscommunication. Bucky will travel however far, if it means making you smile.”
No Rest for the Wicked by @abovethesmokestacks Trucker!Bucky x reader
Based upon this ask: “i have the absolute weirdest urge today to get railed by trucker!bucky in a motel in like southern florida🤨 and it’s late too, maybe 3-4 am. the place is kinda seedy & it’s rlly humid and hot outside & the ac barely works so we’d both be sweating a lot but it makes it hotter”
Meanwhile in Louisiana by @multifandomwriter Bucky x reader
“You are Sam’s best friend and you meet Bucky when Sam organizes a party down at the docks.”
A Tender Heart by @river-soul Alpha!Bucky x Omega!reader
“You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpected fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit.”
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Steve x reader:
Jane Doe by @justkending Modern!Steve x reader
“They weren’t next door neighbors, but they did live in the same apartment complex. However, they were on completely different sides of the complex. Steve always sees her across the way doing her daily routines and way about life on her balcony from his own. Something about her has him checking in on her from across the way when he can… She’s intriguing and has a way about her life that he finds calming and captivating. He wants to know more about who she is, but there’s no non-creepy way of approaching a neighbor that doesn’t know you exist. Is there?”
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buckysparadise · 9 months ago
Road Trip
Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t know how to admit his feelings towards you.
A fluff Drabble based on the new content
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You were excited when you learned the news you would be going on a mission with Wilson & Barnes. Being an assistant had its perk. Currently, you were on the road to your secret cabin hideout with the two of them. You turned your head and secretly watched Bucky. His now short hair gave a better view of his face and his delicious jawline. If only the two of you could be cuddling with one another in the back seat.... it would be less boring...
Sam Wilson presented a small smirk in the rear view mirror as he drove. He found it hilarious that Bucky never caught your stares. The best part was Sam also knew Bucky had a crush on you.
“We should be there soon, I call dibs on the solo bedroom.” Sam spoke up.
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he cleared his throat. “But, what about Y/N?” He questioned and your eyes widen lightly at the fact that Bucky was even acknowledging you.
“I thought we promised we would give it to her” his voice becoming stern as he sits up. You’re taken by his actions, also, sitting up.
“Buck— it’s totally fine... Sam said something about his neck hurting...” you shrugged while Sam smiled lightly in the rear view mirror. His plan was falling into place.
Bucky shook his head in disbelief and sighed mumbling something incoherent under his breath.
Before any conversation could continue, Sam was already pulling up into the secluded woods. The cabin eventually coming into the view through the trees.
“Here we are!” Sam announced, parking the car and you un-click your seatbelt, heading to your home for the next couple of days.
As days followed along the mission, you awkwardly shared a bedroom with Bucky. He insisted that he would just sleep on the small couch. His legs would hang from the edge, and then he would complain about aches. If only he listened to you, and just slept in the bed with you. You really didn’t mind.
“Sam, can we talk?” Bucky requests, walking a fast pace down the road and Sam follows him.
“What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?”
“You don’t want to know. But--” Bucky stops mid sentence as he looks ahead to see you alone on the road. He wished his hands were laced with yours, reassuring you that the mission would go fine tomorrow.
“She likes you, man” Sam noticed the way Bucky stared at you these past days. And countless days before that. A lovesick puppy is what he was. 
“No she doesn’t...”
Sam rolls his eyes. If only he could knock some sense into his friend.
“Trust me, Buck. Go talk to her.“ He insists, practically pushing his friend away.
“God... I hate you.”
Bucky grunts and awkwardly jogs ahead to meet you in the road. You smile as he comes up next to you.
“Oh hey— bored of Sam already?” You tease, chuckling softly, and Bucky smiles big. His heart already fluttering every-time you speak.
“I guess so” Bucky shrugs. “I—I just didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Who? Me? Bucky, I totally understand if you want to talk to Sam. You’ve known him for years and I’m here to just learn the ropes.” There was no hard feelings.
Bucky was lost for words. He really didn’t know what to say next. He sucked at the flirting game in the 21st century.
“But we can be friends, too...”
“I thought we were already friends!” You state playfully, looking up at him, panic settling within him.
Of course, he considered you as a friend. He wanted to be more than friends, frankly.
“That’s not what I meant—! You are my friend. What I-I meant was I was thinking about the sleeping arrangements and we should totally sleep in the bed together...”
The words didn’t sound right as he spoke. His nerves were overtaking him. Bucky was switching to a new conversation with each sentence.
Sam watched the train wreck in front of him. But, he still had faith in his friend. Just give him a few more seconds. He’s got it... As much as Bucky was bombing this encounter, Sam knew how head over heels you were for him. Bucky could say almost anything and you would still find it adorable.
A smirk twitches against your lips. “Well, Bucky I’ve been telling you that for the longest. I hate to see your body in pain the next morning over something so simple. What’s changed your mind?”
Bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.
“The truth is I get nervous around you Y/N... so I thought if I slept on the couch, I could escape this problem. But it only seems to be getting worse...” he looks down, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
You smile wide, a sudden warmth flushing your cheeks. “I get nervous around you too...”
Bucky’s eyes shoot up in an instant. One of his eyebrow raises. He would have never expected someone like you to be nervous when you displayed such a cool and collected manner. “You do?”
You nod, stopping to look up at him.
“You make me nervous, Bucky... because I like you.” Bucky’s breath hitches, little shit Sam was actually right. Don’t screw this up, Bucky thought.
“I like you too, doll...” you bite your bottom lip, internally squealing inside. His hands slowly inch towards yours and naturally intertwine with your fingers. This isn't exactly how he pictured it but it was everything he wanted.
As the two of you walk in silence hand in hand for a couple of moments, Bucky finally speaks up again.
“Hey, doll... are you a kicker in your sleep?” He asks, his thumb rubbing over your hand ever so gently.
“No? Why?”
“Because I am but when I’m wrapped around something... like a pillow— it goes away.”
“Is this your way of saying you want to cuddle when we get home?”
“Yes...” Bucky shyly looks down at you and nods. His hand squeezing yours softly.
“I’d love to cuddle with you Bucky...” you tippy toe and press a small kiss against his cheek.
Bucky is officially walking on clouds. Maybe he didn’t hate Sam that much.
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lovelyavengers · 2 months ago
Every Pane of Glass (That Your Pebbles Tap)
Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
Words: 3,253
Summary: Every single time, you told him that it would be the last, that you couldn’t do this anymore. But he knew better than anyone that you wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. 
Warnings: implied sexual content, drinking
this is my contribution to @belladonnabarnes​‘s fall out boy writing challenge! the song i chose was Chicago Is So Two Years Ago (one of my all time favorites) so thank you for giving me an excuse to drive around listening to it on repeat! i hope you like it :) 
Bucky Barnes Masterlist • Main Masterlist
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Soft light came through the blinds as the sun rose, and you slowly blinked awake. Shifting slightly in the bed, you soon became aware of the fact that you weren’t alone. An arm was slung over your bare stomach, and there was another person under the covers next to you. The coolness of the limb in question would have been a shock if you weren’t already well aware of who you spent the night with. You cursed under your breath and scolded yourself silently, because you had said that this would never happen again, promised yourself you would stay away from him, because you couldn’t keep doing this.
As you tried to get out of bed without waking him, you heard him yawn and sit up, blinking his eyes in the rising sun. “Morning doll,” he said nonchalantly, like he wasn’t your ex and you didn’t just sleep together last night when you were drunk.  “What’s for breakfast?”
“You can’t stay,” you said. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Let me remind you that you’re the one that texted me,” he said as he got out from under the covers and began to collect his discarded shirt and pants from the floor. “Because the last time this happened, you had told me that we were never doing this again.”
“I did say that,” you said, putting your head in your hands. “So why do you keep coming back then? I was obviously drunk when I texted you, what did you expect from all this?”
“I keep coming back because it was part of our agreement,” he said. “And each time I leave I leave thinking it will be the last time, but I’m not going to pass up seeing you again, especially if you ask me to come over.”
You didn’t respond right away, hoping that if you stayed silent for long enough he would leave and you’d be able to recover some of your pride, but that wasn’t the case. Un uneasy tension hung in the room before you spoke again. “I mean it this time,” you said. “I can’t keep doing this Bucky, we should have stopped seeing each other a long time ago.”
“If that’s how you feel, then I’ll just go,” he said, and at this point you could predict what he was going to say because that’s how many times you have had this exact conversation. You watched with regret as he collected the rest of his clothes and walked out of your room. You heard the door to your apartment closed behind him and you peeked out the window to watch as he climbed into the driver’s seat of a car he had probably stolen from the Avengers Compound. Alone in your bed, the events of the previous night still reeling in your brain, you thought about how this whole “arrangement” began.
“Y/N?” you heard his voice over the thumping music of the bar, and you turned around to face your ex. He looked shocked to see you, and to give him credit, you had never been to this bar before and chose it to try and avoid the very person who standing in front of you. It seems like he had the same idea, because you knew he preferred another bar a few blocks over, the one you used to go to all the time, and it happened to be the one you had met in.
“What are you doing here?” you asked.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“You know what? I don’t care why you’re here,” you said. “Just leave me alone.”
“Fine by me.”
That was a short lived agreement, because three hours later you were kissing him in the alley next to the bar. You didn’t know how it happened, but your mind was slightly muddled from the cocktails you had been drinking, and as much as you would never say it out loud, you missed his touch, his kiss. Heat started to pool in your stomach as he pressed you against the wall and moved his lips down to your neck.
You continued as you were, necking in the alley under the dim light of the streetlamps and trying not to think about the fact that you were doing the exact opposite of what you had gone out to. “Y/N,” Bucky said between hungry kisses. “Should we really be doing this?”
“Every single cell in my body is screaming at me to walk away right now,” you said, panting slightly. “But I don’t give a shit. Just shut up and kiss me Barnes.”
The next morning, you woke up together in your bed, your clothes strewn messily all over the floor and your head tucked into his chest. The two of you came to a decision that morning, that you weren’t going to get back together, but that you could continue to see in each other, as long as the relationship was strictly physical. It could continue until one of you got into another relationship, because you didn’t want to be a homewrecker.
It worked for both of you like that anyway. The whole reason you had broken up in the first place was because Bucky didn’t want to introduce you to the other Avengers. He would always deflect the question whenever you would ask to meet his friends, and after a while, it felt like he didn’t even want to be with you, but that he just wanted to use you as an escape. You grappled with the fact that maybe this is exactly what he wanted, that he was just using you for sex. Because every time you saw him, it always played out the same way.
After a while though, it became clear that he was letting you have control over when you saw each other, and it normally happened when you were feeling drunk or lonely.  You would him to come over, he would always respond with some variation of “I thought we were never supposed to see each other again,” and then say he was coming over.  About a half hour later, there would be taps at your window, and when you opened it, Bucky would be standing on the grass in front of your apartment building, a handful of pebbles in his hand. “You know you could just knock,” you always shouted down at him.
His response was always the same. “I know, but it’s more fun this way.”
A month was always the longest you could go without breaking your rules. He was like a drug, and you couldn’t get enough of it. Maybe you were lying to yourself when you said you never wanted to see him again, because this didn’t really seem like the actions of someone who wanted to get rid of their ex. Another piece of you egged it on, because the entire point of your arrangement was that it was temporary. It was just until one of you got into another relationship.  And you had tried to date after him, but nothing had ever went far enough that you would have had to call off what you had with Bucky. You always told yourself it was never your fault that none of the other guys worked out, but there was always a piece of you that wondered whether or not you were the problem, and that you were still too hung up on Bucky Barnes to really get another boyfriend.
This night was no exception. It was barely three days after you seen him last, when you woke up to see him laying next to you. You always said that this was the last time, and he always gave you the same knowing look. And tonight, after two drinks, you had already broken the promise you had made to yourself the last time this happened.
“Come over,” your text read, and you waited anxiously for a response.
“Why?” was the response you got, different from what you usually received. “I thought you said we were done.”
You could have realized what you were doing, apologized, and told him not to come over, because the two of you were obviously dangerous to each other, but you couldn’t. You started to type the words out - never mind, wrong person (so maybe you could convince him that you really were through) - but you just couldn’t bring yourself to type the words. “I was stupid,” was the response that you actually sent. “I want to see you.”
You stared at the screen, waiting for a response, but nothing ever came. You had almost given up on him, thinking that he finally realized the danger you posed to each other, and you tears started to slip from your eyes. You weren’t even together, so why were you crying like this? You had always told yourself that you never wanted to see him again, so why did it feel like you just lost a piece of yourself.
About an hour later, there was a knock on your door. Not on the window, the door. You pulled yourself off the couch and hoped with all you had that it didn’t look like you were crying, because you really didn’t want to open the door to your landlord looking like you were in the middle of a mental breakdown.
But it was Bucky you pulled open the door to see, not your landlord. “What are you doing here?” the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“You texted me.”
“I didn’t think you were coming,” you admitted, stepping aside to let him in.
You never wasted any time with pleasantries, and this time was no different. The minute the door closed you were kissing him, and soon he was guiding you towards your bedroom. What didn’t normally happen though, was him stopping right before you could make it through the doorway. “We need to talk,” he said. “Because this can’t keep happening.”
“This can be the last time then,” you said, not really registering what he was saying.
“No, Y/N, you don’t understand,” he said again, and you stopped to stare at him. “I don’t want to be strung along like this, and if you’re just going to continue the way we were doing things I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“If you didn’t want to come tonight, why did you?” you asked. “Because you know the terms of our arrangement James, you don’t need to break up with me like a normal girlfriend. Because I was your normal girlfriend, but you decided that I apparently wasn’t good enough to progress that relationship.” The words came out angrier than you intended, and you knew it was the alcohol speaking, but you also couldn’t deny it was how you felt. “If you really want to end this, you shouldn’t have shown up at all. I would have got the message then.”
“I came here because I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “I don’t want to see you only when you’re drunk and lonely, I want to be us again.”
“No, Bucky, we can’t just be ‘us’ again,” you said. “Because I don’t want to go back to living like your dirty little secret, the girl you can’t be bothered to care about. I get not wanting to tell the world who I am, but not telling your friends? Even Steve?”
“You don’t under-”
“No, you don’t understand,” you cut him off. “Do you know what it feels like to me? It feels like you don’t actually want to be with me, that you’re just using me for when you want to feel like you have a girlfriend. Bucky, we dated for an entire year and we went out for dinner like once. I feel like you’ve locked me away, like you’re somehow embarrassed to be seen with me. Was I just a side chick? If you were to leave now, would there be some superhero girlfriend waiting for you? And I got tired of feeling like that, so tired I finally said you know what, if I’m going to get used for sex I might as well use you right back. Because at least when I ask you to come over I’m honest about my intentions.”
You could tell he didn’t know what to say to that. “I should have listened to you all those times before,” he said, practically spitting his words at you. “We should have never brought about this arrangement. We’re like fire and ice, forces that don’t work together, that cancel each other out. And I can’t keep living in denial that we’re not slowly killing each other.” With one last look, he walked out the door. “Goodbye Y/N,” you heard him say, his voice fading away as he walked down the hallway.
You peeked out the window and watched as he got into his car and drove away, right as fat raindrops started to fall from the sky. You continued to look out the window, as if hoping that his car would appear once again, but the only thing you saw was the soft reflection of the street lights on the wet asphalt.
You couldn’t stop thinking about his words, how the two of you were like fire and ice, and how you were both suffocating the other. It hurt to think about, but you knew he was right. You should have known from the start that it was all going to crash and burn, but you lied to yourself, especially when you began your “arrangement.”
You didn’t know why you felt like this, because you hadn’t been dating, the relationship was purely physical. But it still felt like he took a piece of your heart when he drove away that night, and you didn’t think you would ever get it back.
You laid around and did nothing for days, barely eating, and drinking nothing but coffee and alcohol. You didn’t answer the door, and your friends eventually left you alone because you never responded to their messages. You had build a wall around yourself to protect your heart, because you decided that you never wanted to feel like this ever again.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your sadness turned to an intense desire to forget, to forget everything that had anything to do with Bucky or your relationship. You threw away things that reminded you of him and buried the pictures of you two in the very depths of your closet.
You were just starting to heal, having come out of the shower a little while ago, and you sat on the couch with the curtains open, a book in hand. And slowly, a noise started to register in your brain.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You knew that sound, but you didn’t think you would ever hear it again. You listened more closely for a few seconds, but heard nothing, so you went back to your book.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
This time, you got up off the couch and walked over to the window, where Bucky Barnes was standing. He was holding a handful of pebbles from the wells lining the sidewalk, and there were a few sitting on the lip of your windowsill. “Can we talk?” he called up.
“Why?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I thought it was best that we didn’t see each other again?”
“Y/N, I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” he said. “But can you please give me a chance?”
You were silent, not sure if you should or not. This man was your weakness, that had already been proved a thousand times over. You shouldn’t let him in, your brain was telling you, he was nothing but heartbreak and trouble. Boys like him are overrated anyway.
But you didn’t listen to the voice in your head, and maybe you were being selfish for doing so. “Fine,” you called down, and you could see a smile grow on his face, one that he very quickly tried to hide.
When he knocked on your door moments later, you let him in. “I still love you,” he said, before he had even caught his breath. “I still love you, and I never stopped. I took this arrangement because I was willing to do whatever it took to get even a few moments of your time, because you were worth it. And ever since I left that night, I’ve been kicking myself for not staying, not explaining myself. So here I am now, but if you want me to leave I will.”
You didn’t know what to say. This was definitely not how you expected to spend tonight, and definitely not what you expected to hear when you invited Bucky up. “Then explain,” you said softly. “Because I want to believe you, but I can’t let myself get hurt again.”
He took a breath before responding, and you could see a look of sorrow in his eyes. “I wanted to keep you all to myself,” he said, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “Not like that, but I thought that if I took you to the compound and introduced you to everyone there you would forget about me, and I’d be stuck playing second fiddle to Steve or Thor because they knew how to gain your affection better. It was selfish of me to hide you away like that, but I also felt like a real person when I was with you. You knew who I was, but you never once judged my past or who I was forced to be for all those years. I thought that maybe if you got in the walls of the compound that you would remember that you were dating a murderer.”
Your heart broke the moment he said that. You felt like the worst person alive for what you had said to him about not introducing you to his friends, because he never once told you about any of this. “My opinion of you would never change Bucky,” you said softly.
“I know that now,” he said. “But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking it, and that’s why I pulled away. But I’ve since realized that I can’t live without you Y/N, because these past few days have felt like death a thousand times over. I want to try to be us again, if you would let me win your affection once more.”
Tears started to slip from your eyes, and you nodded slowly, not knowing what to say. “I would like that too,” you finally answered. “I’m sorry for what I said and did to make you feel bad about yourself. I was scared, and I let my own insecurities get in the way of our relationship. If you’ll have me, I would also like to try again.”
There were no words that could possible convey the emotions that were filling the living room of your tiny apartment, but there didn’t need to be. He stepped closer and close to you, and leaned down so that his face was inches away from yours. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, a look of longing on his face, like if you said no to his question he might have lost his mind right there.
“Always,” you managed to choke out, and his lips descended onto yours. All your emotions were poured out into the kiss, and you knew you were ready to start over with him.
- the end -
***this is my sideblog. i reply to direct comments on this post from my main blog @fandomsandxfiles​
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bottombaron · 8 days ago
one of my favorite winterbaron headcanons is that bucky and zemo get stupidly competitive about something irrelevant and lame
so zemo is put together and all the time right? like he won't lose his cool for most things. but he and bucky get into it over a game of monopoly and it's like that scene of leslie knope in the parks and rec episode about the model UN
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imaginestuffs · 4 months ago
Her Cowardice Pt. 2 - Bucky Barnes x Reader
MWord count: 2,793
Warnings: mentions of small injury, language, angst, fluff, tfatws spoilers slightly. I think that's everything.
Summary: Sam and Bucky try to speak with the reader, but she's scared.
This is part 2 of Her Cowardice! here is part one! hopefully, you all will like part 2!! love you guys! SLIGHT TFATWS SPOLIERS! DON'T READ UNLESS YOU'VE SEEN EPISODE 3!
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(not my gif!)
You had no idea how long you were on the floor. By then you had gotten used to the stinging pain of the alcohol painting your wounds. Tears now drizzled down your cheeks, no longer a shower. Your lashes were still heavy with the droplets of remaining tears but that was ok. They would dry again.
You carefully tried to lift yourself from the glass veiled floor. Only to get more glass stuck in your hands. You cringed and saw a few tears dripping onto the floor mixing with the small amount of blood.
You finally stood on unsteady feet and assessed the mess you had created and sighed.
"Of course I'd do this... the day I decide to try, my house ends up covered in shards of glass and my blood. What happened?" You question yourself.
-outside 20 minutes earlier-
"This is stupid Sam," Bucky spoke blatantly to his friend.
"We need her man, we've always been a trio. We can't just be a couple of dudes. All groups of people need a bad ass friend. Now hurry it up."
"We're enough as we are. We are leaving Sam." Bucky glared at Sam intensely.
"You've done enough avoiding and running, it's time to grow up," Sam spoke in confidence.
Bucky clenched his jaw and stormed towards Sam. "You don't get to say that to me. She's the one who ran from me. We needed her and she ran."
Bucky's growl turned into a soft whisper.
"She ran..." he breathed out.
Sam stood his ground although holding back tears. He remembered the day you left, he remembered the tears pouring from your eyes and the way you held them both.
"Boys, I'm leaving... you breathed out. There you stood in front of them with some bags behind you.
Their eyes went wide, and their hearts dropped.
"What do you mean? Where are you going doll?" Bucky stood up quickly to stand before you. Tears rushed to your eyes and your lip trembled.
"I can't be here anymore. It's too hard, I just -I can't- I feel like I'm drowning..." you trailed off. Sam rose from his seat and walked over to stand next to Bucky.
"(Y/n), you can't go. Doll, you can't please." Bucky pleaded, reaching to grab your shaking hands. "We need you here, it'll be ok I promise," Sam said and placed a hand on your shoulder.
You let go of Bucky's hands and wrapped them around his waist. You held each other as close as possible.
"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. Until the day I die." You cried to him. Lifting your head you bring your hands up to hold his face. He meets into your touch. You bring his face to yourself and place a kiss on his lips. You hold onto him for as long as possible. Trying to show your love. He does the same, trying not to let go of you.
You pulled away and tears rested on his cheeks as well. "I'm sorry James but I have to go." You placed a kiss on his cheek and finally turned to Sam.
"Sam, I'm so sorry. I just can't do it. I'm so sorry... please. Please take care of him." You tried to cover your mouth but you let out a sob. He pulled you into a tight hug, you held on tighter. I love you too Sam ok. Don't forget that." You took steps back.
Once again you ran to Bucky holding him tighter than before, kissing his tears away. "I love you, James, I always will. You're my forever."
"You're my best girl... I love you, please don't go." You shook your head sadly.
"I love you Bucky. I love you both. Take care of each other."
You walked out the door and Bucky watched from the doorway ready to run after you.
That was the last time they saw you.
Now here they are, outside your small little house away from any city.
Bucky was scared to see you. He didn't want to be there at all. He didn't understand why they needed you, but here they are.
Before Bucky could speak he heard someone start to speak from within the small house. With his enhanced hearing he could hear your voice.
He turned to look at the door and began to slowly walk towards Sam on his tail. Confusion etched onto his skin, wondering what Bucky was doing.
"Man, what are you doing?" Sam whisper shouted. Bucky shot him a glare and put a finger to his lips. Sam then heard you speak as well.
"After everything, I ran. After Nat, after Tony." You took a shaky breath "After Steve... my body shut down. It felt like my soul became so heavy it pulled me so far under the water. Far enough for me to give up and let the pressure of the water shatter my remaining fragility."
His heart hammered in his chest at her words. Sam's eyes were narrowed as he tried to concentrate on what you were saying. Both of their hearts ached at the memory from your perspective.
Then all of a sudden they hear what could only be a chair screech across the floor, and a shattering sound. They both jumped and Bucky had to hold himself back. Sam was about to say something when they heard another smash and shouting.
"He was there! Why weren't you there for him! You fucking coward!" They heard you yell and let out a cry.
They both sat there dumbfounded at your outburst. They had no idea the guilt you felt. It hurt them to hear you like this. You were so broken.
After a few moments, the sobs stopped and they heard shuffling.
They waited a few moments before knocking on the door. Bucky's hands shook and Dam shifted his weight from one foot to another.
They hear a floorboard squeak under your weight and prepare themselves. You pulled the door open only slightly. The people you saw made your eyes go wide and a gasp fall from your chapped lips. Your cheeks were rosy from wiping tears.
Sam gave you a friendly smile and you slammed the door shut. You had no words.
So they spoke up.
"(Y/n), please open up.. we need to see you. We need to make sure you're ok. We heard smashing and yelling. Please let us in." Sam called out to you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying with everything in you to lock the door and walk away instead of rushing out to see them. You were horrified by them, you were so scared of seeing them.
You once again said nothing and tried to quietly move away from the door and into your bathroom. Still keeping in mind the glass sticking from your skin. You were halfway across the room when you heard the voice that made you shake and cause new tears to collect.
"(Y/n), come on. Open up, please. Please..." you could hear the sadness in his voice. It broke your heart to hear his voice after so long.
Tears slipped down your cheeks once again. Before you could realize what was going on, words passed your lips.
"I can't." Your voice was hoarse from crying and yelling. From outside they heard your strained voice, and the fear it held. Sam cringed and Bucky looked away trying to blink away tears. He never thought he would hear your voice again. He was hurt but he didn't realize the guilt you felt.
Sam didn't know how much you felt.
"Are you hurt?" Sam called out again.
You had to decide whether or not you wanted to give in or hideaway. You had taken care of worse wounds but after so long of being alone you felt the need to see those familiar faces.
"You don't have to be scared doll. It's us... please..." Bucky spoke up.
The use of his name for you made your heart stop for a moment.
"I don't deserve to see you... I hurt you and I don't deserve for you to care about me." You cried out to them.
They look at each other with sadness.
You began to breathe heavily as quiet sobs once again invaded the space around you.
Before you knew it you were on the ground again. You didn't even acknowledge the pain you felt from the glass.
Bucky couldn't take anymore and he opened your front door and looked around. Sam followed and they saw all the glass shattered on the floor. Whiskey from the bottle and water from the vase. Blood mixed in with the whiskey and flowers strewn from the vase. Further, into the house they saw you crumpled on the floor. Glass littered your skin and blood dripped from your arm and leg. They hear your sobbing and cautiously approach you.
Sam stays back a bit as Bucky comes to kneel in front of your shaking figure.
"Doll." You heard Bucky's voice right in front of you. Your head snapped up with wide, teary eyes.
"What are you doing here, you shouldn't be in here Bucky you need to go." You tried to scramble backward. He reached out for you, gently grasping your un-injured wrist. At the feeling, you cringed and just looked up at him with a pleading stare.
"I don't deserve you James please..." you pleaded with him. "Let me take care of you (y/n)." He stated firmly but with those kind eyes, you always loved. You began to let some tension go. You looked up at Sam behind him with a nervous gaze. He smiled gently at you.
"Hey (y/n)." He said carefully. You nodded sadly at him. "Hi Sam..." you said softly.
Bucky lifted his hand and gripped your chin with his fingers and turned your face towards him. The cool metal was soothing to your hot skin. You sighed at his touch.
"I'm so sorry James, I'm so sorry..." you said.
"Everything's OK (y/n), let's get you cleaned up ok." He told you soothingly. You nodded and moved to stand up. Bucky quickly gripped you tightly and helped you up. Picking you up he tried to be mindful of the shards of glass in your soft skin.
You tried to hold back a whimper as you held onto him.
"Where’s your bathroom?" Bucky asked. "It's down the hall first door on the right." You answered.
"Sam, would you mind cleaning this up for her?" Bucky asked kindly. "No, Sam. No, you don't have to. I can do it afterward." You protested.
Sam gave Bucky a nod "of course." He said. Before you could say anything Bucky was walking down the hallway.
He stepped into the bathroom and you turned the light on.
"Will you be ok to sit on the counter?" He asked gently. You nodded at him.
He set you down on the cold marble countertop and it made you shiver. He then began his search and quickly found the first-aid kit.
He closed the door and looked at you. "This is going to sting a bit ok." He said and began to gently pull the glass from your skin. "You really don't have to do this." You said and reached to grab his hand.
"I want to. You always patched me up, now let me help you." He reassured you.
The silence wasn't overbearing and thick. It was soft and comfortable. Just like it used to be.
"Bucky I'm-" you didn't get to finish.
"(Y/n), no more of this. I've missed you." Bucky said while cleaning your small wounds. His hands worked quickly but gently as he took out each piece of glass.
You looked at him with surprise.
"You've missed me? How could you after what I've done?" You asked quietly with your gaze on the ground, wincing every now and again.
He finishes up and puts everything away before turning to look at you.
"Because you're still my best girl." He told you with sincerity. Your heart melted.
"I'm so sorry I left you... I left you when we needed each other the most. I love you, I'm so sorry." Your voice trembled as you reached out to take his hands. You missed the feeling of his hands in yours. You miss the feeling of the cool metal and warm flesh intertwining with yours. He stepped between your legs and looked down at you.
"I love you too... we'll work everything out I promise. Just please don't leave me again." He pleaded gently. You looked into his beautiful stormy eyes and saw tears threatening to fall.
"I promise you. I promise I won't ever leave again." You whispered as you let go of his hands to move them up his chest and around his neck. You had only then realized he had cut his hair. Those long soft locks were gone. You smiled at how nice he looked. He looked like he was starting to heal, and it was beautiful. He was beautiful.
You tug him closer and pull his head down so you can close the gap between you. Your lips were so close but you gave him time to pull away if he didn't want it.
He just reached forward and pressed his lips to yours.
It felt like home, his lips moving along with yours. So much love was put into it, his hands cupped your cheeks as yours gently clawed at the nape of his neck.
He pulled away and when he opened his eyes he saw that yours were still closed and a look of pure content rested on your features.
"Open those eyes doll, I wanna see them." He whispered and kissed your nose. Your eyes fluttered open, and he could see the sparkle in them. He saw how brilliantly they shined.
"There she is... my beautiful girl." He mumbled before pressing his lips to yours one last time.
Tears shined in your eyes. You could feel the love between you two and it made you feel as though everything was mending.
"You forgive me, James?" You asked quietly. "I forgive you (y/n). I love you."
When you walked back down the hall you saw the place cleaned up, and Sam sitting on your couch with his phone in hand.
"Hey, Sam." You spoke up. He quickly looked back at you. "(Y/n)." He got up and pulled you into a hug. You winced but hugged back nonetheless missing your best friend.
"I missed you so much. I'm sorry for everything." You spoke into his shoulder.
"It's ok now, we're okay." He reassured you.
Bucky came up behind you after you pulled away from Sam. He wrapped his arms around your waist gently. Sam smiled.
"Now, (y/n), we need you," Sam spoke up. You looked at him in curiosity, ready to listen.
He told you all about this new group of Super Soldiers called the Flag Smashers. They told you all about John Walker, the new Captain America. He mentioned that and you cringed at the thought. It made your grip onto Bucky's arm tightly in anger. He just held you closer. They told you all about their plan and revealed to you that they had an idea. They needed to go talk to 'him'. Zemo.
You were downright pissed about it, but you wanted to help the boys in any way you could. After everything, you owed them the world and this is just a start at making it up to them.
"Alright boys, let's go talk to Zemo." You sighed before going to grab your things.
You stood in your room gathering a bag of your things. Bucky helped you and every once in a while he would pass by and kiss your head.
He was just about to pass you to put something away when you grabbed his metal hand and pulled him closer. He smiled down at you. Lifting his hand you pressed a kiss to it and gently rested it against your waist. You looked at him with a smile and he knew exactly what you wanted. He moved his hand from your waist to the hem of your shirt gently letting his cool fingers travel up and around your waist pulling you into his chest.
You loved to feel the cool metal against your warm skin. He came to find out it was a comfort to you. He did it whenever you were alone. It was just the way he held you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips letting his thumb rub circles onto the skin over your ribcage.
At that moment things were delicate, they were mending. You were both mending.
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