Tumgik
#zemo been knew
literaryavenger · 1 month
Text
Happy Birthday
Summary: It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death. Angst. Fluff. Language probably.
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: This story was completely self-indulgent, but I hope someone out there likes it!
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You’ve always been very reluctant to celebrate your birthday, you haven’t had a birthday party since you were 12. The following year your mom died a couple of days before and neither you nor your family were in the mood to celebrate anything.
It wasn’t by any means unexpected, she had been sick for a few years, but it still hit you hard. You were the youngest kid and were far too young when she first got sick to really understand everything going on. You were 8 and all you really remember is watching your mom get more and more sick until eventually there was nothing more the doctors could do.
Her death hit you hard and you closed yourself off, never talking about it or even crying after the day of her funeral. To this day you’ve still never cried, in front of others or even by yourself.
You started exercising to channel all your energy, refusing to do anything more like the therapy your family suggested. 
When you were 15 you discovered SHIELD and decided you wanted to help others, so you signed up for the SHIELD Academy, working your hardest and pushing yourself to your very limit. You ended up being not only the youngest cadet ever, but the youngest to actually graduate and then the youngest recruit at SHIELD at only 16 years old.
Natasha was very impressed when she heard about you and took a liking to you, convincing Fury to make you part of her team during her missions and teaching you everything she knows.
That’s how you ended up in the Avengers Initiative, not that you felt you didn’t deserve it since you know how hard you worked and everything you gave to work towards this achievement. 
The team themselves were initially skeptical since you were barely 18 during the battle of New York, but they were quickly proven wrong when they saw how well you handled yourself against the Chitauri. 
You were devastated when SHIELD fell, but carried on as an Avenger, battling Ultron and then moving to the Compound with the team.
You met the actual Bucky for the first time when you were 22, during the whole Civil War thing with Baron Zemo. Like Natasha, you were on Tony’s team, fighting mostly Pietro, but the conflict eventually ended. 
It took Tony some time to get over the whole “Bucky killing his parents while brainwashed” thing, but, as he likes to say, he can’t call himself a genius without admitting that Bucky didn’t have much of a choice. 
Thanks to Tony’s help Shuri was able to find a solution to Bucky’s brainwashing faster than she would’ve alone, meaning Bucky didn’t have to go back into cryo and was pretty quickly cleared to join the team, about a year after the battle in Leipzig.
You were warmly accepted by everybody and, the more the team grew the more you felt at home with these people.
And now you wish you could burn down the whole compound because, somehow, Tony convinced you to have a birthday party for the first time in 13 years because, in his words, you only turn 25 once.
Good news is you managed to make him limit the guest list to the team and other people close to you like Maria Hill and Fury. Bad news is you’re still gonna be the center of attention, which you hate.
You couldn’t stop Tony from making everyone dress up for the party, and you couldn’t stop the team from getting you gifts even though you insisted all you wanted was everyone together and to have fun with them since for the longest time nobody ever even knew when your birthday was. 
What you didn’t realize was that the only person more worried about your gifts was Bucky. Since he joined the team the two of you have gotten close, starting with his first training with the team where he very loudly told Steve about his disbelief that someone as young and small as you could actually be an asset to the team. You quickly put him in his place by taking him down after less than two minutes of sparring, taking full advantage of his underestimating you because he “didn’t want to hurt a pretty little thing like you.”
Admittedly he was impressed and wasn’t shy about letting you know that, while the rest of the team snickered at his initial shock when you pinned him down.
You became friends after that, not as close as you’d like but friends nonetheless. If you were honest with yourself you’ve been harboring a little crush on the supersoldier, but he’s never shown any interest so you resigned yourself to just being his friend.
Something that you did come to treasure, though, is your and Bucky’s late night talks. It started with you walking on him in the kitchen on a late night where you couldn’t sleep, nothing new to you, but the two of you barely talked other than acknowledging each other. You took a bottle of water and left.
A couple of days later you ran into him again and you stood there in silence while you made yourself a cup of tea and then left for your room. A few days later again he was just sitting there and said nothing as you made your tea, except this time you put a cup in front of him and silently took a seat next to him at the counter.
Two nights later when you arrived at the kitchen he was already there with a cup of tea in front of him and one in front of the seat next to him. You didn’t want to assume it was for you, but you took a chance when you noticed it was the cup you always used, a blue mug with Stitch on it that says “Let’s get weird”, your favorite in fact.
You hesitantly sat down next to him and, without you having to ask or without even looking at you, he told you that the nights you stay up late because you can’t sleep you tend to be more quiet during the team dinners and while you hang out afterwards.
You didn’t say anything in return and just sat there, trying not to overthink how much he seemed to watch you. But the more nights you spent like that, the more you two talked and you gathered quickly that Bucky is a very observant person, nothing more.
You loved the time you spent together after dark where you’d talk about everything and anything, but come morning it was almost as if it never happened, which you came to accept. It weirdly made the nights you spent talking even more special, which was almost every night.
But back to the present, you’re currently getting ready with Natasha and Wanda, who know much more than you about hair and makeup and are always happy to help you out with getting ready for Stark parties. 
You get into the black cocktail dress with rhinestones all over the corset and a slit down the left side. The three of you make your way to the party room and you take a deep breath before entering.
Everyone is already there, all dressed up in fancy clothes as they all shout “Happy Birthday”. You laugh and say hi to everybody while they all take turns hugging you, there’s not too many people but everyone important to you is there. Even Laura and Clint’s kids are there, which you consider a second family at this point, since Laura always did treat you like a daughter.
You hated to admit that it was a nice party. Knowing you, everyone made an effort to not put you too much at the center of attention and you just went around talking to your friends like every other party.
Eventually time came for the cake and, the moment you kind of dreaded, opening the gifts.
Since it was the first birthday you allowed the team to celebrate everyone decided to go all in for your gifts, which you picked up on from the very first gift you opened.
Pietro got you a first edition of “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” which is your all time favorite book, Wanda and Maria got you a leather jacket and an amazing pair of boots that you knew were expensive because you were all out shopping together when you came across them.
Steve got you a gold heart-shaped locker with a picture of the team inside it, Natasha got you a charm bracelet with a little charm to represent everyone on the team, and Sam got you a cute necklace with your birth stone on it.
When you open Fury’s gift you start laughing since it was a gun, a SIG SAUER P226 to be precise, which is very Fury.
“It was my first gun when I joined SHIELD.” He says with a smile and you smile back, knowing how much it thought he put into this gift.
You open Clint’s gift next, a bow and arrow that he already taught you how to use, and Laura got you a pair of diamond earrings. Your heart melts when you open Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel’s gifts, respectively a friendship bracelet, an Avengers action figure of yourself and a Stitch plushie. The three of them hug you tightly as you say thank you and now you only have two gifts left, Tony’s and Bucky’s, and they’re both little boxes. 
You open Tony’s next, thinking it’s some fancy necklace or earring but you frown when you see a car key.
“Is this the key to your car?” you ask Tony, knowing full well you’re holding the key to an Audi R8 Spyder, the car Tony’s let you borrow so many times you’re now wondering if he’s gifting you his spare set of keys.
“No.” He says casually “It’s the key to your car.”
You’re even more confused and simply stare at him with your mouth gaped, not really processing the information. “Y-you… You got me a car?!” You almost yell out of shock and everyone else starts laughing at your antics when you start basically jumping up and down and hugging Tony, squealing like a little girl.
“Well, come on, let’s go see it!” Tony says enthusiastically after you’ve calmed down, and you get up, just as enthusiastic, but are stopped by Steve’s voice.
“Wait, wait. You have one gift left” He says, picking up the small box and giving it to you. “It’s from Bucky.”
You were so pumped up by the car, you almost forgot about it and completely missed the mischievous look Steve gave Bucky and the murderous glare Bucky gave back. You also miss Bucky starting to protest before you open his gift, but he instantly shuts up when he sees your face falling the second you open it.
It’s a small necklace with a blue rose in it, it really looks like something you’d give a little girl more than a 25 year old woman. You look at it for a minute, running your finger on it before you raise your head and look at Bucky.
The whole room goes silent as they all watch you worriedly, everyone noticing immediately that tears are streaming down your face. Nobody understands what’s happening and nobody knows how to react or what to do, it’s like they’re all frozen by the sight of you being vulnerable for the first time ever. 
Meanwhile Bucky’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure everyone around him can hear it, and he feels himself starting to panic at the thought of having ruined your birthday with that stupid gift.
Everybody else got you expensive gifts and all he did was get you a small, cheap necklace that reminded him of a story you briefly talked about once on one of your late night talks about a necklace you had as a kid.
He saw it at the mall while looking for a gift for you, remembering the sweet smile you had on your face when you mentioned it and the fleeting sad look he thought he saw when you told him you lost it when you were 12.
He was really proud of himself for that gift, but the more he saw the other gifts you got the more he regretted his choice, especially after Tony gave you a fucking car.
And now you were crying, not saying anything while just looking at him. He doesn’t know what to expect from you at the moment, nobody does, he thinks you might yell, throw his gift back at him, tell him how much you hate him.
But you surprise everyone by throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tightly while crying into his shoulder.
You honestly forgot telling Bucky about that story and certainly didn’t expect him to remember it, especially since you always got the feeling that he didn’t care about your talks as much as you, you just assumed that come morning he deleted everything you told him to make room for more important things, and you didn’t blame him.
But he didn’t.
What you didn’t tell him about the necklace is that your mom gave it to you because blue roses were her favorite, you had that necklace since you were born but you somehow lost it the day of her funeral. That day you lost the two most important things in your life and cried yourself to sleep, and that was the last time you allowed yourself to be weak and cry.
Until today.
Bucky hesitantly wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back hoping to get you to calm down. He looks around at the rest of the team, panicking a little and not knowing what to do. Everyone else is as clueless as he is, never having seen you in such a state before.
Bucky starts apologizing, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying, and he feels horrible that it’s because of him.
You shake your head quickly and pull away a little to look at him, wanting to reassure him you’re not sad or angry but incredibly happy, but words refuse to come. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and finally manage to speak.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” It’s quiet, but it’s something, and it’s enough to make Bucky let out a breath of relief at knowing you don’t hate him or his gift.
He brings you back in for another tight hug, almost forgetting about everyone else in the room as you hug him back without hesitation. You’re honestly not even embarrassed at crying, all you care about at the moment is Bucky, his arms around you while he lets you bury your face in his neck, like you’ve been wanting to do for years now.
“Happy birthday, doll.” He whispers in your ear and, for the first time in 13 years, you really feel like it is.
632 notes · View notes
buckets-and-trees · 8 months
Text
Desperate [Bucky x Reader]
Fandom: MCU Title: Desperate Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k 
Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.
Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)
Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
Tumblr media
You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.
When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.
Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 
He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 
It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 
But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.
What Bucky loathed even more? 
You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.
Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.
You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.
Bucky was... less than kind.
Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 
Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.
You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.
"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 
Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.
You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.
You did it only because of your promise to Steve.
And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 
Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.
Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.
When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 
This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 
Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.
Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 
Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 
Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 
And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.
Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?
They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 
The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.
So, they injected it right into your veins.
Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 
Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 
You were incoherent and not far from feral. 
Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.
You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 
It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 
You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.
Tumblr media
Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 
Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.
After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.
The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.
But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.
He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 
He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.
He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.
It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.
Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”
He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.
He wouldn’t deny you. 
He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 
He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 
The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 
Not even close.
For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 
It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 
If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 
He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.
As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.
When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.
Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.
You refused, consumed with shame and horror.
Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 
That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 
This was a new hell you would have to endure. 
“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”
He was silent for a moment.
“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.
You raised your head tentatively.
He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”
You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.
“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.
“You have?”
“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”
You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 
And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 
“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 
The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.
“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.
You nodded.
You let him move in.
You let him kiss you.
You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 
You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 
This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.
Tumblr media
READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
1K notes · View notes
chxrrybcmbs · 4 months
Text
Sweetest Thing
Synopsis: You join Sam and Bucky to assist them with the Flag Smashers. Since you're a telepath, you come in handy. One night, while Zemo and Sam are out, you and Bucky have a little heart to heart.
Warnings: angst and a little fluff 💝👍🏻
Word count: 1.3k
Note: I do not give permission for my work to copied or translated anywhere else but this blog.
Tumblr media
Since The Blip, you started working more with Bucky. Assisting him and Sam when the fiasco with the Flag Smashers became bigger than expected. As a telepath, your abilities came in handy quite a bit. Nothing could be hidden from you, though you had a rule about invading peoples minds. You never did it without permission unless it was essential to an operation.
Bucky wouldn't admit it but he was nervous about working with you. His mind had been invaded so many times before. Molded to whatever was needed of him. But you showed your trustworthiness, and Sam vouched for you too. In time he began to ease up when you were around.
Often he'd find himself enjoying your company and preferring it to being alone like he usually was. He wasn't used to this feeling and he suppressed it as much as he could. He was unstable and never truly felt like he was worth all the trouble Steve had gone through for him. Even if he was free from the programming he still didn't feel comfortable and he was scared to let anyone else in.
Sam had forced himself in, somewhat against his will. But you, you were different. He didn't want to hurt you and he knew if you saw everything he was you'd turn and run.
One night, while Sam had taken Zemo off somewhere to gather more intelligence, it was just you and Bucky alone in the apartment.
The place was spacious, way too spacious for two people. Bucky was in the kitchen fixing himself a drink and you were sitting in the living room typing away on your laptop. As he watched you, he felt his heart rate speed up and he started feeling a nervous itch. Like he needed to move or he'd jump out of his skin. He took a sip of his drink and continued to observe you. Admire was a better word for it but he wasn't ready to admit that.
You were a pretty closed off person, didn't let a lot of people know much about you or where you came from. Other than what was on file. Bucky related to that in a way, he figured with your power it must be hard to let people in. Hearing thoughts and seeing someone's intentions before they act on them. He didn't realize he'd started tapping his foot anxiously until you spoke,
"You know, Sam did warn me about the staring thing." He stiffened and downed the rest of his drink as you closed your laptop.
"I'm used to people staring but it's usually after they find out what I can do. It's typically a disapproving, disgusted look but." You shook your head. Bucky felt like a deer in headlights. He hadn't meant to make you feel like he was disgusted by you. He just couldn't keep his eyes off you, they were drawn to you like magnets. He was wondering if you could sense it. Sense the feelings he'd been working to bury underneath layers and layers of gruff aloofness.
You stood up and walked over to the record player in the corner. You hadn't taken Zemo for a musical guy but he had an extensive record collection.
"Do you mind if I put on some music? It sort of helps keep me from hearing-" you waved your hands around your head mimicking the thoughts you often heard from unsuspecting strangers. If someone's mind wasn't strong enough, even without you trying you could hear them. Their deepest, darkest secrets and desires. Bucky nodded and you spun back around to place the record you chose onto the needle.
Music started gently drifting and echoing around the apartment. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, looking over at Bucky who was still standing stiff in the kitchen. You chuckled lightly as he averted his gaze to the floor,
"You don't have to ignore me either. I understand the staring, it's okay I'm not offended."
Bucky looked up at you, his eyes looking to you then back to the floor. His heart began to thump again and the song playing seemed to be spilling his secrets for him.
I wanna get close to you, tug at your ribbons and pearls
Just feel my heart go bump, baby
Feel it coming on through
He took in a breath and moved towards the living room. Finally leaving the sanctuary of the kitchen. He realized he hadn't spoken a single word and now he wasn't sure he could. He stood before you, a healthy distance away still, and parted his lips to speak but couldn't find the words just yet.
What he asked you to do next took you by surprise,
"I want you to read my mind." The statement was simple, but you never imagined him ever saying it.
"You want me to what?" You retorted, utterly floored at his request.
"I want you to read my mind. I'm- I can't express things correctly." He stuttered and you felt a twinge of pity.
"Why do you want me to read your mind?" You wondered, this was sort of sudden. You hadn't meant to make him feel guilty for staring. You truly didn't mind it, you kind of liked his attention if you were being honest.
"Just do it." He said, and you didn't argue any further. You closed your eyes and tuned the music into a low tone in your mind, you reached out to Bucky's mind. At first there was nothing, just emptiness and silence. Then, you saw flashes, images. Some you recognized but it wasn't from your perspective, but from his.
You saw Sam and the glares and eye rolls. The jokes and the sarcastic remarks. Then you saw yourself, laughing and smiling. Bucky seemed to hold onto those moments with you. He watched you more than you noticed and you felt that twinge in your heart. That pull on something you'd been ignoring since you agreed to work with them.
The warmth you felt from those memories of his was overwhelming. You knew you were blushing and you would deal with the embarrassment later. You were going to end the connection when you saw new flashes, Steve, Hydra, he still remembered everything. You pulled yourself out before you saw too much.
Tears were welling in your eyes as you opened them. You brought the sleeve of your shirt up to wipe them away quickly. Bucky still stood in that same spot, watching you. His face anticipating your rejection, readying himself for you to walk out the door.
"What did you see?" He asked, his voice a little more broken than he liked. You steeled yourself as you met his gaze.
"I saw myself. Your memories, with Sam and some with Steve." You didn't mention the ones of Hydra. That was something he probably didn't mean to reveal and you'd never speak of it.
"Bucky. I-" you paused, trying to gather your thoughts.
"It's okay." He said, shaking his head. "You don't have to reciprocate or respond or anything. I just wanted you to know and that was the only way I could do it." He looked down at his shoes and you felt that pull again. That tugging on your heart. He moved to turn around and you grabbed his hand, pulling him back to face you.
You reached up and kissed him. It took you both by surprise, but he kissed you back and you relaxed. You felt his arms hovering nervously at his sides and you broke the kiss to guide them to rest on your hips. You looked up into his blue eyes before going in to kiss him again, softer this time.
"You know." You whispered against his lips. "Next time you want to tell me something, just tell me." You joked and he flashed a smile as he leaned down to peck your lips.
"Understood." He mumbled.
When Sam and Zemo came back later that night, they found you both asleep on the couch. Your head on Bucky's chest and Bucky's arm around you, his head leaning back on the couch.
Zemo looked at Sam,
"I told you so."
"Shut up." Sam grumbled and left the room. Zemo smirked to himself, and went to his quarters. Leaving you and Bucky in each others embrace.
--------------------------------------------------------
Song referenced in the fic is Sweetest Thing by Gene Loves Jezebel
678 notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 7 months
Text
Promise Me | Part III
When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.
Tumblr media
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 4.2k++
Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: angst but happy ending. The anticipation, the hesitation, yup it was real in this one. Not enough dialogue in my opinion but meh my brain was not braining. Bucky's scene before their official reunion.
P/S: Yeay, it's a wrap. Sorry for the delay guys. I'm still sick but feeling better, so that's a good news! This is the final part if the mini series, I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
Louisiana, 2024 – New beginning
War after war, from one fight into another, Bucky finally had the chance to catch a breath for himself. With the flagsmashers gone and Sam being the new Captain America just as Steve envisioned, there was a moment of peace for Bucky's tortured soul to finally rest.
He sat at the deck area of Sam's ship, watching the sun meets the ocean over the horizon, occasionally sipping on his probably fifth bottle of beer.
When he drowned himself in the memories of the events that happened these past few months, suddenly the tranquil of the sunset ahead of him doesn't interest him the least; not when a certain person had been occupying his mind.
Replaying all the twists and turns of his journey fighting those rogue group of super soldiers, one person had been but remained a mystery to him.
The Deathstalker.
It was the one puzzle piece that didn't seemed fit in the picture. As if she was plucked out entirely from a different story, a riddle that would lead him into another adventure beyond the unknown.
He still remembered the way her hands trembled against his face, tears pooling in her eyes that then fell into her mask as she muttered his name again and again.
Bucky gulped as his eyes loomed over hers, "Who are you?"
The Deathstalker seemed to be taken aback by his question. Her mutterings stopped and her eyes locked on his blue ones; there was hesitation in her gaze, or a contemplation of an answer that Bucky was dying to know.
"I-- i'm--" her words stumbled as her feet dragged backwards, putting some space between herself and Bucky.
Bucky's heart stammered in anticipation, he had a gut feeling that she wasn't just someone that he had crossed path with once or twice. He could tell they had some kind of a long history, a deeper connection; Where? When? He wasn't sure. He just knew it that there was something special between them, especially when she looked at him with such eyes.
But before she could give a definite answer, multiple groups of bounty hunters started to re-gather in their area. Zemo came in clutch with a car, picking up the injured Sam with the help of Sharon.
Bucky can hear Sharon's voice yelling out his name yet he didn't move an inch and within minutes they were surrounded by the hunters.
What was it that gave him such courage to court death just to hear her answer? Was it just purely out of curiosity or was it some kind of delusional hope that intrigued his soul?
Y/N looked around to assess their dire situation before gazing up at the taller. She knew this wasn't the best time for the truth and her hesitation only makes it worst.
But when, Bucky held out his hand towards her, "Come with me." there was a strong pull that made her wanted to just give in and take his hand.
And Bucky didn't know why he reached out for her, but it felt right. She glanced in between his hand and his pleading eyes, her own hand twitching, almost submitting to her desire but the last minute she decided to stand on her ground.
Y/N ended up turning her back and fled away, leaving her lover's hand hanging and his question unanswered.
Through the time that Bucky was deep in his memories, he may or may not have unintentionally bored his gaze towards Sarah's direction, which only triggered Sam into a protective brother that he is, "Don't flirt with my sister." He warned.
Bucky briefly scoffed and denied his accusations, "I'm not." He sipped on his bottle as he averted his gaze away.
The look on Sam's face seemed like he was trying to glare into Bucky's soul; he was sceptical with the his deflection. But the brunette only rolled his eyes in response as he spoke, "Seriously. I'm not interested." He continued before Sam couldn't interject, "Not that there's anything wrong with her.. it's just..." 
Seeing Bucky's struggles to find an excuse, Sam curiously quirked, "It's just that you already have a girl in mind?" He suggested.
There was a hint of softness in Bucky's smile when he ran his thumb across the glossy sticker of the bottle, "I had a girl." He spoke dearly as his eyes diluted into another spiral of scattered memories of his past lover, "I had the best girl."
Tumblr media
Since the truth that was unfolded in Madripoor, Y/N had been keeping tabs on Bucky. At first, she couldn't believe it. She had to put everything about the super soldier serum on hold, to uncover more of Bucky's survival.
As it turn out, he managed to survive the fall from the train back in 1945 and had been brainwashed into a lethal weapon for Hydra for years after that.
His identity had been a secret for decades but since the fall of Hydra a few years back, the whole world knew who the Winter Soldier was. However, the people in the underground world was much fond of his villain's name, rather than the name of a war hero when it comes to addressing him.
Therefore, the lack of use of his real name had been one of the reason why Y/N was not aware of his existence. Not to mention, when he made his first public appearance when the bombing at Washington D.C. happened, she was determined to leave anything related to her past life behind and was trying to live a new life away in Singapore.
Then, a few years after that, when she came back to New York during the first year of the blip, Bucky was unfortunately, one of the people who vanished.
But, those things doesn't matter anymore now that she knew he was alive. Her Bucky. Her James. He's alive. Y/N couldn't remember the last time she was this happy, this overjoyed. That night, she couldn't sleep very well; not when her heart was working overtime all through the night.
Ever since then, she had been lurking around Bucky and Sam most of the time. Besides, her own mission of making sure the super soldier serum doesn't fall into the wrong hands and to put an end to the flagsmasher, Y/N was also there just to see Bucky.
She couldn't help it.
Imagine living a somewhat immortal life without a piece of your heart for decades. Withering to the fact that you can never see your lover, not in life nor in death; Or spending days and nights, missing and longing for his soul to be one with yours again.
And then suddenly discovering he was still alive.
Of course, she would use any excuse to see him every single day without fail. But at the same time, she didn't want to make things more complicated than it already was. With the crisis of the vigilante super soldiers, she didn't think it would be wise to reveal herself to Bucky anytime soon.
So, she stayed in the shadows instead, refuse to make herself known to Bucky. Whether as the Deathstalker or as Y/N.
Except for that one time that she decided to help him.
Bucky looked around the parking lot, trying to make a decision on which vehicle would be easiest for him to hijack. That was when he heard her signature robotic voice, "Hey, sarge!" She yelled.
He followed her voice upwards to see her feet dangling in the air, as she sat on the edge of the metal of the fire escape stairs. He hadn't seen her since their first encounter at Madripoor, "You..." Bucky whispered quietly.
Now that he thought about it, did she just call him by his title?
She titled her head to the side, "Do you require any assistance, sargent?" She asked nonchalantly as if they have been buddies for years.
Yup, she did used his title. 
Bucky's signature frown only deepened when she insinuated a jest-like tone. He wasn't sure whether she was trying to appear friendly in order to help him or slow him down. So be safe, his defence went up when he straighten his back into a stance.
When Y/N saw how his guard changed, she decided to get straight to the point, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James" she leaned as if it'll close the distance between them.
She wondered if her words trigger a memory in him; after all, she did use the similar sentence in 1943 when Steve rescued him from Hydra's captivity. But the lack of response from Bucky told her otherwise. Perhaps, it was too long of past for him to remember, or it wasn't significant enough for him.
Bucky's brows quirked when she yelled, "Heads up." and his hand rose up to catch whatever it was she threw down at him.
Y/N briefly titled her head forward as she spoke, "Far left. The black bike." In which Bucky briefly followed her directions, to indeed see a black bike parked at the spot.
Bucky wordlessly turned his head back and gaze up at her with a questioning look on his face. He couldn't see her behind that mask she was wearing but if he could, he would've see her smiling, "You need it more than I do."
It has been a few months since that night. And she was still lurking somewhere in the dark. Everywhere he goes, she will be right around the corner; watching, observing.
Even now, when she found herself standing on one of the boardwalk in Louisiana, near where Sam's boat resides. There was no denying that she was sort of being a creep, basically stalking Bucky from where she was standing.
From this distance, she could see that Bucky was having the time of his life entertaining the kids with his left arm; or maybe the kids were, when they compete each other on how long they can last hanging from the vibranium metal.
Y/N just had to smile seeing him happy like this. Her heart bloomed with warmth that she never thought she would ever had the chance feel again. Bucky looked as if he was finally at peace, and that made her doubt if it was a good idea to insert herself in his life now.
She believed that he derserve a happy ending. After all he had gone through all those years, he should be able to have the luxury of having a completely new life, a new beginning. Away from the past that are just filled with painful memories and dreadful suffering. To find love again and live a long happy life where she is nothing but a distant memory.
He deserve that.
But is that what she truly wanted?
Brooklyn, 2024 – Truth Untold
"That'll be $25, sir." The red-haired smiled as she handed Bucky his usual order. He paid accordingly as he took it off her hands and walked out of the cozy little shop at the corner of the busy city street.
His gloved hand gripped onto the stem of the bouquet, as his dark and tall silhouette slithered through the crowd. Everybody seemed to be entranced with whatever it was on the screen of their phones, while Bucky felt like he was out of place and time with arrangement of primroses in his hands.
The hustle bustle of the city slowly transitioned into a much calmer and quieter scenary. He walked passed the rusty, almost deteriorating entrance gate, nodding to the old ground keeper as he passed by. He knew he could get lost if he doesn't keep his focus, yet his eyes remained on the petals of the flowers, gambling his trust in his feet to bring him to the only spot they recognized.
"Hey, doll." Bucky greeted, gripping on the stem a little tighter as he read the name of his lover on the worn-looking headstone. Months of cleaning and tending her grave, it still looked grey and sombre compared to when he first visited; but that tends to happen to a grave is been left out since the 70's.
He lowered into a crouching position and placed the flowers in front of the headstone, "I'm sorry I've been missing some weeks on ya. Duty calls." Bucky knew that wasn't a good excuse to miss their dates but the flagsmashers events had caused him to skip this little Tuesday routine of his.
As depressing it might sound, he missed coming here.
Besides going to therapy, this has been the only place where Bucky talks the most about his feelings. Though it might be completely a one-sided conversation, but he could spend hours talking to her. Telling her anything and everything that's been going on in that pretty head of his. No matter how scrambled and messy it was up there.
Bucky traced his fingers to the words engraved in the stone; it read 'Beloved daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.' Each title were delightful as they were but then again, she could've been 'a lovely wife' and 'a great mother', but she didn't.
"Why didn't you?" Bucky whispered quietly. "I just know that men must've been thrilled chasing after you, begging on their knees for your hand." He chuckled as he remembered all those times when his friends would ogle over her whenever he brought her out for a dance, "And you'd be a wonderful mother too." Knowing her gentle nature and how the kids in the hospital adored her, he just knew she would be.
His heart pierced painfully to think that she might have grown old alone, and died without family of her own. "You should've live a happy life, y/n. Marry a good man, build a family." Tears that pooled started to drip from the corner of his eyes, each tore an aching sob from his throat, "And I wished I could've be there with you."
It wasn't rare for Bucky to cry during his visits to Y/N's grave. He is the most vulnerable when he's with her; even in death, being around her has been comforting for his soul.
Y/N could clearly hear the sound of his sniffles when she stood closer to him like this. She spend day after day, gathering the courage and figuring out what to say if she ever confronted Bucky.
But in the end, the fact that Bucky was just within her reach, living, breathing; it broke whatever plan she had in her mind.
It still felt like a dream. A lucid one.
Bucky knew that was someone standing behind him; but he felt no sorts of vendetta from the person and if they mean him any harm, they would've done it sooner. He roughly stroke his palm across his face in effort to hide the tears streaks away and took a deep breath as he stood on his feet.
Whoever he had in mind, well it was definitely not that person who was standing behind him right now. It totally caught him off guard when he saw the Deathstalker standing in front of him instead of any other familiar faces.
Though her identity was still hidden, but instead of her combat attire, she was in a much comfortable clothes. Casual sneakers, basic jeans, an oversize sweater, its hood pulled over her head and a soft cloth mask covering her lower face.
Despite the change of style, her eyes were still the same. Big, brown and Bucky could only describe them to be filled with curiosity and concern as they looked up at him. He could feel the burn from the drag of her gaze on each part of his features; the softness of his lips, the red of his nose and especially the puffiness of his eyes.
He broke the silence when he started the conversation, "I assume that you're not going to fight me." He said, "At least you don't look like you're equipped for it..." Bucky pointed out the obvious.
Y/N took a few seconds of silent blinking before she responded with a shook of her head.
The lack of verbal response somehow caused him to feel slightly awkward. Rubbing the back on his neck, Bucky titled his head to the side, "So... you're here for your bike?" He asked. He still hold on to the bike that she lend to him, though it was back at his place, if that's what she wanted.
Her eyes curved into a pair of cresent moons, a side effect of a smile that Bucky couldn't see. She shook her head again to deny his speculation.
Bucky pointed out at the graveyard around them when he asked, "Uhh...are you here for a visit too?" He doubt it but it was worth to try.
Y/N looked over his shoulder, reading the familiar name engraved on the headstone behind him, before locking her eyes back to his. She shook her head yet again.
Bucky was starting to get why Sam felt annoyed with his staring problem now that he had first hand experience. Though she wasn't glaring at him like he would at Sam, but still, she was staring at him most of the time. And the lack of words made it more noticeable. "You don't talk much do you?" He asked, there was a hint of passive-aggressive in his tone.
And Y/N recognized that tone anywhere. She was surprised that that part of him hasn't change since the 40's. She remembered how Bucky would use this tone whenever he was irritated but he didn't want to be a jerk and yell out his frustration.
The fact that she still managed to notice this little quirks of his after all these years made her chuckle amusingly. There wasn't a voice changer now, it was just her voice; raw and unfiltered. And even if it was muffled behind the cloth of her mask, her laugh sounded awfully familiar to Bucky.
It sounded pretty and soft, that it tickled something in deep within his chest but not enough to trigger any memory from his subconcious, "Then, what are you doing here?" He asked curiously.
It took a moment of blinking silence before Y/N grabbed onto the fabric of her hood; she pulled it back and it revealed her slightly wavy hair dipped in raven. Bucky watched intently as her index finger slipped into the tiny slot at the side of her nose, hooking it on the fabric of her mask.
And those mere seconds of hesitation triggered the tears to form in her eyes. Her heart beating fast, tiredlessly pumping blood through the veins of her body yet her fingers still runs cold with fear.
Between the thumping sound of her own heartbeat, she might have second guessed her own decision of revealing her identity. Thinking that maybe it was best to leave the truth untold. Because what if Bucky refused to believe her?
It would truly destroy her; this time, beyond repair.
Y/N briefly closed her eyes as she breathed in, she then pulled the mask down to reveal her face. The crack in her voice betrayed the smile that curved on her trembling lips, "I'm here for you." She finally spoke.
The upward movement of muscle around her cheeks pushed her tears out, letting it flow from the corner of her eyes. She didn't dare to look at him in the face for too long, so her eyes casted downwards to where her feet dug the ground.
Decades passed and it might have been several lifetimes for Y/N since the 40's but it only felt like it was yesterday for Bucky. Especially when he had lived many years of his life to either be awake for the Winter Soldier or asleep in the freezing chambers.
All of which were just scattered of loose memories to him now. It haunted him, yes. But sometimes he couldn't tell if it was just a series of nightmares or actual reality. Thus, he tends to feel as if he had lost his sense of time. That is why he always felt out of place in the modern society.
Inside, he felt like he was still the man he was in the 40's; just thrusted forward in time. And since he started to tap into the memories of himself in those olden times, it made him felt like it hasn't been that long for Bucky since he last saw her.
Yes, he felt like it was just short distance of time but his soul certainly didn't feel the same. It had been deprived of its other half for far too long.
All the images of their time together flashed rapidly through his mind; every touch, every kiss, every laughter and even every tears they ever shared, all came rushing in like untamed waves crashing to the shore.
The beautiful strings of chaos in his head hadn't calm the slightest, in fact it pushed Bucky to move forward; to catch her silhouette before it could disappear on him like the way it always does in his dreams.
Y/N's vision was blocked when Bucky smushed her face to his chest, trapping her in an unbreakable embrace as he whispered her name, "y/n?"
Was he talking to her or was he talking to himself? Because he didn't stop muttering her name as if it was some sort of a ritual chanting.
Bucky's hand briefly roamed her body from the back of her head, barely passing her shoulders, across the spine and then folded around her waist, drawing her in; impossibly closer.
That was when she felt his body shake; much like herself, Bucky was crying for the lost time that they will never make back, for the pieces of hearts broken in those decades that they lived without one another.
Bucky had witness some unbelievable things throughout his long life on this earth; lots of mind-boggling creation of man-made technology, actual magic and sorcerers, aliens and literal Gods.
He should know that nothing is impossible. Yet, holding Y/N in his arms felt unbelievably surreal to him.
Before she managed to draw in the air, her body felt the need to melt into his form. She can feel his firm grasp around her frame, and feel how rapid his heart beating on her cheek.
At that moment, she couldn't help but to find resemblance of him to his past habits; he way he holds her, how his fingers would occasionally dance across her body, or how his nose would nudge into her hair.
Even his scent remained the same. At least the essence of it were unchanged.
Being in his arms reminded her of the whispers of promises Bucky made to her, "You promised to come home." Y/N tried to steady her breath, "You promised to come back to me."
Bucky pulled her head back, cradling her face in the contrast of his hands; one was once warm and another that felt familiar. He desperately wiped her tears away with his thumbs, almost too rough of a caress but surprisingly it brought more relief than pain to her.
Even in the sorrow and grief, anger managed to slipped through when she growled, "You dickhead, you left me behind." Though it was weak, her punches still hits the target perfectly.
Repeatedly slamming her tiny fists on his sturdy chest. The chest that were caged with heavy remorse and regret. And there wasn't really anything he could say to sooth the pain that she felt when he died.
Bucky knew that, but he had to say something, anything, "I-doll, I'm so sorry..." He was drowning her with his eyes, flooding her heart with his tears as his hand ran through her hair. Soft as he remembered it to be; at least compared from the lucid dreams she was starring in.
"Shhh!" Y/N hushed him quickly, "Just please..." her breath shuddered when she inhaled.
She didn't spend most of her lifetimes to hear an apology, not from him. If anything, he should swear on his life to never leave again, to stay this time around and always. She tugged him closer, lips hovering over each other's, just one nudge away to finally get the sweet taste of it, "...never again."
And when he kissed her, it tastes of her tears. But it was beyond fulfilling. Like their lost soul were finally being able to touch again. The gentle need, the tender crave of his kiss was enough to forge her trust back into its former glory.
And all of the sudden Bucky felt like he was drowning again; like he was desperate to breathe and she was the air. He kissed her again, and again, and again. As if he needed the taste of her lips to survive the waves; like she was his lighthouse in dark.
When they finally set apart, she wanted to speak but all she can do was croak, "Don't leave me, not again." Bucky's lips curved into a loving smile and he nods once. He folded her frame in his arms, tightly and closely; his whisper was ever-so-soft when he promised, "Never."
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
A/N: Did you notice two dialogue throwback from when Bucky was rescued in 1943? "I didnt come all the way here to fight with you, James" and "I'm here for you" Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. Thanks for reading and maybe tell you what you think?
515 notes · View notes
bucknastysbabe · 7 months
Text
I knew at once, I knew he needed me
B. Barnes x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Canon-ish universe, friends to lovers, Bucky’s last trauma, flagsmashers debacle, TW: Bucks past non-con but no detail, blowjobs, fluff and smut, MAN TEARS, sexual dysfunction, Bucky Needs Orders, soft domme, Subby Bucky, Bucky is the sweetest sad meow meow who loves his girl, dry-humping, super-soldier loads amirite
Mood board under cut
Tumblr media
Something about Bucky shifted when he went off on the Flag Smasher’s ordeal. You’d gotten a debrief back at HQ. No, you were not super powered. Simply a secretary who once upon a time was a SHIELD agent. But you’d got to know the reclusive former Winter Soldier bits and pieces at first.
Sam shoved him in charge of the Compound while he was dealing with things as the Falcon. Therefore you had to deal with a very surly one-hundred something man who had a staring problem and vocalized all of about 10 words— variants of no. You felt for the poor guy, he’s out of time, his best friend dipped off, and now the government owns him again.
You’d be tired and grumpy too.
But eventually your clipped conversations had turned into iPhone lessons along other modern world curiosities. The recruits were, safe to say, a bunch of jackasses and Bucky would come sit with you to have some coffee and mellow out as you typed. He’d grumble and rave, metal hand whining and whirring.
Then he asked you on a date.
Date turned to more dates.
More dates turned into ‘going steady’ and being ‘his best girl’. It was cotton candy sweet how kind and gentle he was. You knew there was a fear lingering he would hurt you on accident or go haywire. That somehow those words would come back— but they were gone.
You’d remind him sweetly with a squeeze of left inorganic hand and a peck on his pouty lips. He’d walk you back to your apartment and had been in there before for dinner, but was reluctant to stay the night. Reluctant to get anything but a little handsy while making out.
That was okay, he’d been through a lot. You didn’t mind, it was fun exploring with Bucky to find his sexuality, what felt good, what made him tick. Sometimes it could be frustrating but a vibe would do the trick until further notice.
On a miserable day Buck informed you he had to go with Sam on a mission. That mission turned into an entire ordeal, you keeping your head down and doing what you did. The Avenger’s secretary, oft dealing with the wonkiest of adventures under the guidance of Pepper.
Buck had left a message now and then, missing you dearly. The video of John Walker made you sick and worried to the point that Pep had you take the day off. The fact that Zemo was cavorting around with Sam and Bucky was it’s own nightmare.
You managed to reach Bucky on an encrypted line, begging for him to be safe. The soldier had chuckled blithely and replied, “I’m trying my best. No Zemo isn’t trying to kill me. That jackass Walker is going down though. Gonna’ get this under control and get back to you, sweet pea. I-,” he paused on the line, “I love you. I miss you too. Take care of yourself, gotta go okay?”
You blubbered back an ‘I love you’ and ate a pint of ice cream that night, wearing his shirt, watching that familiar face on the news. Hopefully they would get this Karli girl arrested and end any source of new serum. Put that asshole fake Cap away too.
It did. Sam emerging as the new Captain America, you jumping and cheering alone in the apartment with Alpine. Bucky was smirking in the back. You’d get to see him soon. He left a message he had to sort out one more thing before going home.
A little disappointed, you were glad Bucky went to help Sam’s family out. But you did have a job. On the bright side you could talk to your boyfriend every day. He seemed keen to get home, rambling about things he missed, things he remembered on the worldwide adventure. When Bucky would get off in his thoughts, his voice would get so soft and breathy, making your cheeks flush.
He groaned, “Soon babydoll, soon, I think I’m going to strap you to my side and we’ll catch up on all these movies from the journal.”
“I can’t wait.”
As stated before, there was a shift in Buck. Not bad. Something occurred though. And you couldn’t complain when he had you pinned to the couch, hands roving your body, breathing down your neck, “Oh god, missed you s’much, so damn cold most of the time.”
His toned thighs held yours spread out, hot length pressed to your core, only thin pairs of underwear as a barrier. Things were getting wet down there every rut of his hips. Bucky moaned in frustration, almost trying to bury himself in your skin.
Grabbing scruffy chin you refocused hazy eyes to you. Softly you murmured, “Slow down handsome. I’m not going anywhere. You okay?” Bucky blinked a bit and blushed, sheepishly apologizing with closed eyes, “I- baby- sorry. I don’t know either, jus’ want you. Life’s too short.”
You narrowed your eyes and prodded, “Don’t rush through something you’re not ready for yet.”
Bucky’s blues peered dead into your being this time as he swore, “Been living in fear since I got brought back. I know that I want you, and god it feels Fuckin’ good.” You kissed him passionately after that, tightening your thighs around trim waist.
Bucky hiccuped and heaved when he spilled all over your clothed cunt, sweetly begging for more. You scratched softly at his scalp, ushering the needy thing along. The brunette slid against his own spend and your slick panties, breath hitching. He whined, “S’good, s’good, wet, ff-fuck!”
You ended up spasming and cumming on Buck’s fourth orgasm, so goddamn slick between the pair of you now. He shook down to his toes, holding you tight as he mewled, “Oh god, oh god, fffucking hurts, can’t stop, baby y-ya feel s’good.”
Poor baby had milked himself dry after two more loads, gasping and making the prettiest little hitched noises. You’d led the pliant super soldier to the shower and tended to him, Buck was out to the park after all that intense sensation, hell, sensuality.
He’d softly thank you over and over again between apologies, until the big teddy fell asleep in your arms, puffing softly. Buck wouldn’t have a nightmare that night. Nor many another night after wearing himself out.
No penetration yet, but fucking close. He wasn’t quite ready for that. You knew he was in some sort of phase, spurred on by whatever occurred in Madripoor. He wouldn’t elaborate but said it made him want human touch again. He’d fess up when he was ready, because then you’d let the needy baby fuck.
Walking into your apartment with a sprawled Bucky red faced and teary made you wonder if he was ready. His cock was red and obscenely engorged, leaking copious precum, balls just as heavy looking. The soldier had pushed his briefs down and looked like he’d been at it for awhile based on the redness and his sweaty chest. You swallowed back some drool. Fuck.
“Honey? Bucky? What’s going on?”
A divine whimper graced your senses. His lashes were thick and clumped from tears. Bucky whined, “Need you, my h-hands, fuck!” He bit down on his lip roughly, obviously frustrated. Blood dribbled down Buck’s stubbled chin.
Dropping your stuff and bolting over to your lover had him barely relax, hiccuping a bit. You straddled his lap, careful not to irritate or stimulate too much. Grabbing his gorgeous face with two hands you stared calmly, as one would to a child coming down from a tantrum, “Baby. Need you to take a couple breaths and tell me what’s going on.”
His chest stuttered, breath thin, you instructing some box breathing, counting for Bucky. You could feel him relax underneath you, pulse lowering, that residual twitching dying down. Your lover blinked a couple of times, lips pulled into a frown.
Now gently scratching his scalp you tried again, “Can you tell me what’s going on sweetheart? Something happened in Madripoor. I want to help, I can help if you just talk baby boy.”
His gaze held your own, a gritting of his jaw and slow exhale. Bucky’s mismatched hands slid carefully up the tops of your thighs to grip your hips. The brunette rasped, “We did a ploy. I played…him..to get information we needed. Whole set up with Zemo trying to sell me. It reminded me of my,” he gulped, “other uses.”
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, no,” you rambled while pulling him in closer. Bucky eased back and shook his head, “You make it easier. I just…I..I have trouble doing anything without orders right now. I’ve been too- ugh fuck- embarrassed to say anything. But goddamn if I’m not horny all the time, it’s so twisted.” He tucked wet lashes against your neck, steadying his breathing.
You did some deductions in your head. Bucky had been sating any sort of carnal urges on his own. The little ploy had switched that button deep in Buck’s brain that he needed orders to cum. No wonder he’d been so needy, begging you for release, your lover had been in a mindfuck for two months.
You cooed, “Oh Buck, you can tell me anything, c’mon now. I’m not shaming you one bit. If we need to work through this we will.” Poor thing looked like he was going to cry again, nipping that swollen bottom lip. You shoved your thumb between those pretty lips and hummed, “Stop beating yourself up. I’m more than happy to order my handsome boy around.”
Bucky had instinctively opened to accept your digit, cheeks flaming harder than before. You softly pressed down on his tongue, the brunette drooling and jerking underneath you. The tension seemed to melt out of his body with this one authoritative action.
“Such a sweetheart, can’t help it, don’t worry, we’ll get you back in charge in no time. But just relax for now,” you swiped a tear away, “I’m not going to hurt a hair on your pretty head. Thank you for telling me.”
He whined around your thumb, more and more drool leaking onto a strong chest. You hummed, “I’m going to suck your cock.” It felt almost dirty but Bucky whimpering around your thumb was a relief, a gargled, “Pleaaaaseee.”
Sliding your thumb out of his puffy lips, Bucky made another pitiful noise at the loss. When your slick thumb swirled around his purpling cockhead the brunette shouted in surprise, hands gripping into the couch cushions.
“Going to suck your cock and you’re gonna love it, pretty boy,” you cooed, breathing over where he needed it most. A dollop of pre dribbled out, your tongue lapping it up gently. Buck’s thighs twitched and he moaned, throwing his head back. The cushion ripped on his left side.
You swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip, lapping on the underside just to hear him gasp your name. Popping off you rasped, “Grab my hair, you can move me to your pace.” He nodded disjointedly, flesh hand ever so carefully rerouting to your ponytail.
You began to bob down the length on him, other hand crawling up to caress and gently squeeze his hefty balls. Poor Buck, all backed up. He needed to cum bad. His voice came out as a thin whine, “Ohaaaahhh- wha- I’ve never.” You couldn’t help but smile at being his first.
Satisfaction that no one forcibly took this intimate act from him, not to mention you beat out likely someone’s great grandmother to suck the great Bucky Barnes’ dick. Licking and humming on a vein had your own throat stretching and slick, drool collecting around your obscenely stretched lips.
You fucking loved sucking cock. Especially such a big boy’s like Bucky’s. His hips jerked, forcing the blunt tip down your throat, you finally swallowing him down the best you could. Swallow swallow swallow, this was for your baby. Bucky’s built chest shuddered with his staccato breath, babbling, “So good baby s’good s’good, ohmyfuck.”
He whined again when you came up for air, drooling and heaving over that gorgeous prick. Bucky whimpered, “You look pretty, can I cum? Soon? Please?” You nodded, voice hoarse, “No more deep but I want you to fill my throat with all that cum. You have all the permission, actually, an order to cum.”
It didn’t take long of you humming and shallowly bobbing on his rapidly swelling cock for the first load to come. Bucky’s heavy balls contracted and drew tight under your palm, sending hot seed down your throat. You eagerly swallowed, sucking harder if anything. Bucky moaned and cried, squirming, legs sluttily spreading by the second climax.
You so desperately wanted to fuck around with that tender skin behind his balls but stuck to rolling and squeezing. You suckled on the crown, flicking tongue at the quickest speed, the poor thing warning with a sob, “Again!” He filled your mouth up this round, a fucking surprise, damn super soldiers. Dutifully gulping it again you slurped up excess drool and slowed the pace until Bucky was shying away, mewling.
Gently tucking him back in you wiped your mouth, laughing softly at the drool covering your blouse. God knows how wet your panties were. Bucky panted and hugged you oh-so-tight, warbling the cutest thanks. Wrapping back around Buck you curled the hair growing out around his ears and pressed little kisses to his cheeks.
“I’ve got you baby, we can do orders until you’re up to par. Feeling better?”
He rasped softly, “So much better, god, thank you.”
“No need, I love you. You know that. I’m quite satisfied I was the first to give you head.”
Pressing your lips to another stray tear he repeated it back, “Love you too, angel.” He smiled dopily, “The last too, that mouth works wonders.”
381 notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 1 year
Text
Day 8. Fucking Machine - Helmut Zemo
Tumblr media
Kinktober Day 8. Fucking Machine - Helmut Zemo
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, bdsm, dom/sub, mouth gag, crying, begging, degradation, restraints, fucking machine, squirting, nicknames, no use of y/n
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 
Tumblr media
“But- but I wan-want you”, the sob shook your chest, as you sucked in a deep breath, finally having the freedom to talk as your gag was removed, but your eye mask remained in place, soaked with tears.
Helmut tutted from somewhere to your side, “now, you know only nice gets get me, and what are you?” he asked in a condescending tone.
Trying to control your breathing, you took another deep breath, ashamed by your next answer, “a whore”.
“Yes, a whore who couldn’t keep her hands off of her cunt even after I instructed her to wait for me to get back. So some would say, you deserve this punishment dragă, if only you weren’t such a brat”. The disappointment in his voice was what upset you the most, kicking yourself for giving in to your desires so quickly.
The piece of material used as a gag was placed back over your mouth, cutting off any begging that you were about to continue with. You cried more like a baby, you knew you deserved this punishment but it was relentless, you should have known not to mess with your husband after the bad mood he’d been stuck in.
He had returned home, finding you in the shower, hand between your legs and you hadn’t even heard him come in to see you mumbling his name frantically trying to get off. His hand was on your arm before you could react, pulling you from the shower, water dripping everywhere and you knew better than to fight back.
You knew where he was taking you as he was tossed onto the bed, wetting the sheets. You’d expected him to position your body over his lap and spank your arse until you were sore and then fucked you nice and hard until he forgave you.
Instead, Helmut had handcuffed your wrists to the corners of the bed, eyemask and gag then attached so you couldn’t follow his movements or beg anymore that you were sorry, he’d heard it all before, you just couldn’t help being a brat sometimes.
Next were your legs, they too were strapped so that they were now spread wide for him to complete whatever plan he had decided upon. There were some shuffling noises and something heavy sounded like it was being dragged across the floor, you knew exactly what was happening, knowing how heavy the machinery was.
This led you to where you were now, you weren’t even sure how long it had been, hours? A few minutes? All you knew was that a dildo attached to the end of the fucking machine had been doing in and out of you for what felt like an eternity. Helmut continued to make sure you were lubed up well but every time you came - which seemed an excess amount - your cunt would contract so hard that the dildo would slip out and you would squirt all over it.
The machine was loud and your husband was in control of the remote, turning it faster and slower until you were quivering into an orgasm, time after time. Each thrust had you shifting up and down the bed, slowly at first, whirring with each movement and then an unnatural speed where the dildo turned into a blur and your cunt just had a constant pounding against all of those beautifully sensitive nerves until you were screaming and withering.
It went on and on, again and again, the machine fucked you all the whilst Helmut watched until finally…it all stopped. There was a ringing in your ears, dribble running down your cheek, you were well and truly fucked, you weren’t even sure if you could lift any of your limbs, and everything felt floaty.
Helmut knew you better than you knew yourself, knew the exact moment when you went from orgasmic bliss to one more thrust and you’d be passing out. He started by removing the machine, then undid your arm and leg straps, your gag and then finally your eye mask. You didn’t open your eyes at first but after a few taps on the cheek and a kiss on the end of your nose, you looked up to the man leaning over you with a proud smile.
“Talk to me princess” he encouraged, pulling you in close to his side so you could take in his warmth.
“I’m ok,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, his hand softly stroking the side of your face, wiping away and the remnant of tears. “Intense but it was good”. Helmut didn’t respond, you held him tightly as sleep finally found you.
1K notes · View notes
zemothethirteenth · 6 months
Text
Zemo had been a fool. A complete idiot. If he'd thought that buttoning the soldier into the suit was something verging on indecent, the way the man looked in the suit was definitely so. He was breathtaking, and Zemo was doing his very best to keep his hands to himself when what they wanted to do was ravage him.
And clearly he wasn't the only one with that thought in mind.
Upon arriving at their destination, there were no few eyes that he felt on them, and for as good as he knew he looked in black tie attire, he was under no illusions that he was the focus of their attention. Not when the soldier's hair had been pulled up into a neat bun to keep it out of his face, and the suit was accenting his blue eyes and trim waist. He was a walking sin, and Zemo's focus was paying the price for it.
"Wait here for a moment, I'll get us something to drink," he said quietly, turning to give the soldier a heated once-over, his eyes absolutely burning through the pleasant mask of polite sophistication his face had settled into. "Keep an eye for our targets, or anything happening in that area," his head tilted towards the section of the hall they'd discussed as a possible secret entrance to another room.
@thecoldsoldiers
214 notes · View notes
therenlover · 7 months
Text
Always For A Second (Usually At The Start) - A Helmut Zemo x Reader fic
Tumblr media
"And when I imagine life when it's mine / I can try to picture faceless folk to love a thousand times / But always for a second, and usually at the start / You're in the image posing with a cradled beating heart" - Katie Gregson MacLeod, i'm worried it will always be you
Synopsis: Leaving Helmut for good had been the biggest, most final choice you'd ever had to make. Two years later, he's in your living room again. This time, though, things are different.
Tags: Explicit Smut (+18), Exes, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch!Zemo, Oral (Fem Receiving), Service Top!Zemo, Aftercare, Bucky is Mentioned Too Much
Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 8,600~
-------------
“I didn’t expect you to come crawling back so soon, schatz,”
The restaurant was crowded enough that nobody heard Helmut’s words, curt and cloying and so fucking familiar. Still, my face heated. It always would for him, no matter how much my common sense protested by body’s reactions. How dare he be so damn effective at getting under my skin? 
Some over-expensive brown liquor sloshed against the rim of the glass in my hand as I lifted it less than gracefully from the table, dribbling down the edge of my mouth as I guided it to my lips and drank deeply. “For one, two years isn’t soon,” I started, swallowing. “Two, you’re the asshole who showed up in my apartment like a robber, which makes you the one who came crawling back. I was just nice enough to let you take me for a free meal to get you the hell out. Three,” I set the glass down sharply, “don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I still haven’t forgiven you,” 
“Apologies,” 
He didn’t mean it. 
“Still, it’s too soon to expect any sort of kindness from you,” he continued, “If I recall correctly, you said you’d rather die than suffer through another night with me for the rest of eternity. I believe an eternity has yet to pass… and yet, here we are,”
His matter of fact tone left little up for debate, unless I wanted to reach for my fork and maim his smug face. Instead, I bit my tongue and swallowed another mouthful of whatever I was drinking.
For once I was glad to be surrounded by the kind of noisy, faceless jumble of humanity that usually made my skin crawl. F. Scott Fitzgerald was on to something with his theories on large crowds and intimacy; there was no better place for two war criminals to meet than the corner booth of a hazy restaurant, lounging and drinking, covered by the blanket of sweet anonymity. Anyone who glanced our way would see two normal human beings sharing a meal in peaceable silence, sharing sparse conversation between bites of this and that. 
They would see lovers.
The thought left a lump in my throat. 
Maybe I looked uncomfortable enough that they would presume, correctly, that we were ex-lovers. I wasn’t hopeful about it, though. 
Helmut noticed, of course, but I knew he would. He had always had an almost supernatural sense for these things, like he could tune into my emotional radio on a frequency I didn’t even fully know myself. Enemy or ally or… otherwise, it was a constant to be seen through and picked apart like carrion. An appetizer for the fights to come. Thankfully, though, he chose to have mercy on me this time in a rare show of respect. Instead of wrapping his lips around another snide comment- even though I could tell it was burning a bitter hole into the tip of his tongue behind his clenched teeth- he chose to pick up a ring of calamari from the plate between us. He held it up to examine the crust in the dim lamplight before placing it delicately against his lips, pulling it from the fork in one bite. Still, he couldn’t be too gracious. Helmut held eye contact as he went.
I could only managed a disgusted sigh but found myself mirrored as his teeth sunk into the squid and his brow furrowed. 
“Bad?” I asked.
He chewed for a good while before managing to swallow the offending clump down, gagging all the way. “Despite my recent diet, that might be the worst thing I’ve eaten in a long while,”
A laugh escaped me before I even knew it was there. “You managed to pick a restaurant where our appetizer is worse than prison food? Serves you right for ordering seafood in the midwest,” 
“I suppose it does.” He nudged the plate towards me with a growing smirk, “See for yourself. I’d hate to see it wasted, and as you said, it is ours. I can’t be expected to finish it alone,” 
As if under the spell of his charisma all over again, I followed his instructions without a second thought. It was just as bad as I anticipated. 
Things were off to a bad start from the moment the tines of my fork hit the batter. The breading seemed to squelch under the pressure, sagging and giving way into meat that was somehow both rubbery and gelatinous, if that was even possible, and if the texture seemed bad outside of my mouth it was even worse inside. Somewhere between its fishy tang and the overly salted batter, there was a bitter, almost sour note that seemed to permeate further with every chew. I spit the macerated glob into my napkin before even attempting to swallow down the remaining spit. 
Across the table, Zemo grinned at my misfortune. “Let’s hope our entrees are less offensive to our palettes,” 
“Fuck off,” I muttered, lips turning up at the edges. 
“You can curse all you want at my poor choice of venue, but I can tell you’re glad you’re the one who ordered the pasta instead of the steak,” 
I went for my glass again, letting the liquor with a name I couldn’t pronounce burn all the way down my throat and into my chest. “I hate that you’re always right, Helmut. Can’t you be wrong, just once? Leave some correctness for the rest of us,” 
Maybe it was the lighting, soft and amber against the dark wood of the table to mask the bloody steaks that would sit below, or maybe it was the music, something old and swinging that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but knew from the radio in my grandmother’s car as a child, or maybe, just maybe, it was the crows feet that popped up around Helmut’s eyes when he smiled that hadn’t been quite so prominent the last time I’d seen him, but no matter the cause, the solid iron wall I had put up around my heart when I walked out of the Baron’s life those two year sago seemed to soften. Weakened, somehow. It was like someone took a blowtorch right to the center of my defenses. Something in me screamed that they had never been all that strong to begin with. 
I only noticed I’d been staring when he looked away, clearing his throat and wiping his thin mouth with the napkin from his lap. 
There went my hand. Helmut, 1. Me, 0… Well, 1, if leaving him those years ago counted for anything, and I refused to believe that it hadn’t. That the blow to his ego hadn’t given me at least a slight upper hand compared to the naive girl I had been in comparison when I first met him. There had been so much good in the world then. 
The silence dragged on as if the structural flaws of my guarded heart could patch themselves up with the defenses created from just a few silent moments between us. That’s all it would take for me to remember all the reasons this would never work: all the pain, the sleepless nights, the snide comments that turned into biting replies that grew into massive, earth-shattering fights that exploded into days or weeks or months living alone in a house with him. One by one, the memories flooded back, reminding me exactly why it had taken me almost two years to find enough peace within myself that I wouldn’t decide to shoot the man in front of me on sight. My heart hardened by the second.
“I saw your concert,” 
I was simultaneously thawed and frozen all over again. “How did you-��� 
“James mentioned it,” 
“You still talk to Bucky?” 
“Here and there,” 
The conversation lapsed into silence. 
He had… been there? I didn’t even bother to think about the talk I’d have to have with Bucky about my privacy, too focused on the more important matter at hand. 
The venue was grungy, a basement bar with a small stage serving the communities aspiring comedians and desperate punk-rock garage dwellers just waiting for their big break. I had barely had the guts to pay the booking fee, though. It was just me, a piano, and my guitar for an hour and a half set of mostly cover songs that had gone better than I’d expected, but hadn’t been anything crazy. The crowd was appreciative and respectful. Several people had left tips, even more giving me a congratulatory clap on the back as I left the building that night, promising to “stream my EP” whenever I released it, despite the fact that I had no plans to do any such thing. Still, I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t seen his face in the crowd. I couldn’t name what I was feeling as I imagined it; visualized his face on the other side of the smoky room, leaned against the bar with his dark eyes catching hold of mine…
“You came and you didn’t say anything? Not even a hello?” 
Helmut laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “And risk my life over a free concert? No.” He paused, “Despite my tendency to sometimes be… less than kind, I knew it would rattle you to see me. I didn’t want to throw you off before your performance.” 
I didn’t have much of anything to say in response. Instead, I picked at the paper straw wrapper in my lap and tried to look anywhere but in his direction, shoving down whatever was welling up in my chest. He wouldn’t let things go, though. He never could. That was half of why we’d never work. Every time I tried to drop an uncomfortable subject he’d be there to pick it up with a snide comment or two. It was an easy rhythm. Too easy. I had never wanted to fall back into it and yet, here I was, almost excited to snipe his next words down. 
“Cain misses you,” He continued. 
I folded the straw wrapper in my hands, pulling at the crease as I thought about the doberman puppy I had left behind. He would be so big now, as big as the one I’d taken with me was now. My heart ached at the thought. 
“I doubt he remembers me after all this time,” 
“Of course he does,” Helmut’s voice was low. It was almost hypnotic, the way he carried himself. He could fool anyone. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my stomach that couldn’t have been the calamari, he could still fool me. “He’s quite the troublemaker. More times than I can count he’s evaded me in the house, only to be found asleep in your old closet. I think he remembers your scent,” 
“Thats…” I sat quiet for a moment, pursing through choices of words in my mind, mulling over the sharp accented way he pronounced the t in scent, “Sad. Really sad. Makes me wish I could’ve taken them both,” 
“And what of Brutus?”
“He’s good,” A smile crossed my face. “Big, as you saw tonight. I remember when we got them, they told us they’d be 60 pounds at most, but I swear Brutus must’ve snuck in with the rest of those puppies, because he’s massive. Headbutts me every time I walk through the door wondering where I was. He’s a good boy, though. Keeps watch while I sleep, just in case.”
“Just in case I decided to let myself in through the window one night?”
I let myself laugh without judgement this time, reaching for my water. “Looks like it was all for nothing, then. Who knew he’d just let intruders come waltzing in off of the fire escape?” 
“Am I truly considered an intruder in your home?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious. As if there were any other answer I could possibly give. As if I could’ve wanted him there. His earnestness almost hurt as much as his taunting did, maybe more, because even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, there was a soft ring of truth to his words. 
I took the cowards way out. “I don’t know, what do you think?” 
It was a vulnerability to not give a straight answer, the kind of weak spot that Helmut would catch wind of in an instant before using it to unravel someone piece by piece. Not a no, but certainly not a yes, and the fact that it hadn’t been a resounding yes was enough to glean that maybe, deep down, I wasn’t hating this dinner. He would see through me. Rip me to shreds for the subtle admittance that I hadn’t hated seeing him waiting for me on the couch when I walked through my door, even if I hadn’t expected or wanted him there in the first place. 
I found it was better to lie by omission than to fully lie and let him see through me to the more important truth; For as much as I despised everything about him, I had missed Helmut Zemo. I had missed his stupid expensive taste and the tilt of his stupid head and his stupid shiny white smile. I had missed seeing his coat hung up beside the door and knowing what waited for me inside. It was sick how I had loved him. How I had loved every minute of him picking me apart by the seams and putting me back together. Who could possibly crave their own destruction? Who could live knowing that to be loved was to be deconstructed down to the bone and laid bare as something lesser, something so small compared to the great destroyer I devoted myself to. 
How could he let me live like that if he truly saw through me? 
And that was why I had to leave. 
Loving Helmut Zemo was no way to live. I knew that. I had known that the day I picked up my dog and walked out of our home with nothing but my wallet, car keys, phone, and a polaroid picture of his silhouette. Somehow, I knew that he knew that too. Why else would I move on so suddenly, so sharply, removing every piece of the life we’d built to start myself fresh? A new me, I had said. A new chapter. Yet here I was across from him, shredded bits of paper littering my lap as he puppeteered my heart right back into his arms. 
No. I couldn’t let it happen. 
Not again. 
“Listen, baron,” I didn’t let him answer my rhetorical question. It wouldn’t be wise to let him gain the upper hand again. It wouldn’t be smart to let myself stay weak. “I appreciate dinner. It’s been surprisingly lovely to catch up with you. I’m glad to know you’re not dead, and its great to know Cain is doing well, but I know you weren’t here to tell me that over a plate of mediocre pasta,” 
Helmut smiled, his head in its signature tilt, and swished his own glass a bit. The ice was all but melted giving the liquor an almost clear quality as it diluted. Not a sip had been taken. “Ask the question, schatz,” 
“Why are you here? Why did you stalk me here and break into my apartment when I made it clear that you weren’t welcome in my life?” My words came out so matter of fact even I almost recoiled at them. Not unemotional but detached. 
“Um, who had the chicken alfredo?”
I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked up at the poor waiter, hot plates in hand, as he took in our table at just the wrong time. Five minutes earlier he would have walked in on polite conversation about the dogs or the shitty appetizers. Now, though, he stood between a man who was known to kill for the things he wanted and me, the one thing he could never have again. 
Surprisingly, though, Helmut waved a hand towards me as I froze. There were none of the usual dramatics, just polite chatter with the waiter as he set my plate in front of me and left Helmut with his, taking the offending calamari plate away with him as he scurried away, surely to tell his coworkers about the crazy exes at the corner table. Helmut didn't even carry on with his answer. He just started tucking in to his steak and potatoes, not sparing me a single glance. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t memorized the way his eyes looked in the low light of a restaurant across from me, I would think he’d been replaced by a skrull.
Where was the tearing? The shredding? The utter evisceration of my waiting throat as he drank deeply of my darkest, most shameful thoughts only to spit them out for the world to see. Where was that shame? In the before times, in the times that the two of us had been a we, he never would have paused to mind a waiter. The world would have revolved around him as he laid me bare, no matter who watched or waited in the wings. What changed? 
How had I not noticed his docility until now?
The pasta was decent. It was better than anything I would’ve made at home, at least. I barely thought about it, though, letting my body go through the motions of eating mechanically while my mind went over a million things I could say. What could I say? There was nothing left to. We had gone over every possibility before I had left, at least I thought we had. Whatever we were was dead. That was certain. But what we could be…
I swallowed hard before I could choke on a relatively large piece of broccoli I neglected to chew in my trance. 
Helmut seemed to be in a painfully similar situation. One look at his plate showed a steak cut into tiny pieces. Almost none of it looked eaten, just diced into a pile and shuffled around a bit on the plate to mix with the potatoes, smashed down from their neat ice cream scoop globe and spread with the back of a fork. 
With a sigh, I set down my fork, pasta already forgotten. 
“Lost your appetite?” 
He paused his fiddling with his fork and knife, mirroring me and letting the utensils rest on the table beside his plate. It was odd to see him rattled. Strange to watch his eyes roll up to the ceiling and pause there, as if he was searching for the right words to say. He always knew just what to say to cut the deepest. Maybe it was foreign for him to not want to cut; To find a soft word, instead of a sharpened one. His mouth opened one… two…three times. Open and shut, open and shut. I couldn’t help but hurt for him. The man of many words was finally struck dumb. 
Finally, it came. 
“I’m sorry,” 
I had anticipated a selfish reply, a demand for me to come back and put the past two years behind us, but time had changed him. It had changed us both. He was no longer the man he had been when he was first freed from behind bars, vengeful and biting and so deeply afraid of being alone again, but I was no longer the lost girl I had been either. I did not need to be destroyed to breathe. I could feel tears pricking up in my eyes as he reached a hand across the table to search for my own. It was such a familiar sight in a time of uncertainty. I kept my hands firmly in my lap, though. I would not give him the satisfaction. 
More, I would not give him hope.
“Come home, schatz,”  
There it was. 
I couldn’t hold in the bitter, wet laugh that bubbled up through me, more at my own foolishness than at anything else. He had changed, yes, but some things never would. 
“Helmut,” The word hurt to say. It was altogether both familiar and unfamiliar, covered in a thick layer of dust from time, but nothing could erase the fact that it had once been used over and over, like a prayer, as easy as breathing or saying my own name. “You know I can’t,” 
He let his hand slink back to his side. “I had to try, you know,”
“I know,” The words were a whisper. 
So this was closure? 
The table was quiet. There was no desperation from Helmut’s side, no attempts to sway me or sudden outbursts of resentment. It was almost peaceful. His voice was sad but there was no manipulation in it. We laid our cards of the table as the game we’d played for years finally came to an end. 
“You were right about us, when you left,” he laughed, “I was, as you so aptly put it, a massive ass. I was still so deeply disillusioned about this world and the horrors of it. It was as if everyone around me was just another cog in it all, even you. I thought if I could puppet it all, make things go my way, everything could just be quiet. The horrors would finally stop. The memories would finally stop. I took it too far, though. I took it out on you. For that, I will never be sorry enough,” 
I put up a hand. “Helmut, you don’t have to do this-“
“I want to,”
His voice was delicate but didn’t waver. For the first time I wondered if this was more about what he needed to say than about what I needed to hear. I nodded him on. Without me even thinking about what I was doing, my hand caught his across the table.
“I wanted to run after you the same day you left. I nearly did, too, before I thought better of it. Then I really thought of what you said. What I did. It was then that I decided I had to change for the better, not for you but for myself. Only then would I allow myself to try again. So I did. I spent my time deconstructing the things I had seen and done and finally facing my own demons. I’m not perfect- believe me -but there are many things I have… worked on, for lack of a better word. James was surprisingly helpful throughout it all,” 
“Is that why you’ve been talking?” My thumb stroked over his knuckles, pausing on a scar. 
“More or less. I needed advice on how to overcome my atrocities, and I owed him an apology either way. He told me about your concert because he thought I would be ready to make amends, and yet I found myself unable to speak to you because I knew that if I did, I would have to beg you for forgiveness, and that is not something I will allow myself to do from anyone. Not now, nor ever,”
I let myself pull away. This was not a movie. There was no happy ending for the two of us at the end of this conversation. It was a chance to clear the air and let go of our grievances before going our separate ways. Treating it any other way would only hurt us both. “Why break in, then, and drag this all out over dinner? Why not just knock on my door, apologize, and leave?”
“I couldn’t have you slamming the door in my face and leaving me to apologize to the wall, now could I?” 
We shared a sad smile, a knowing one. “I guess that’s true.” 
“I needed to know you would hear what I had to say until the end,” he paused, “And one last confession. I must admit, I could not walk away without sharing dinner with you one last time. It’s selfish, as I am selfish, but I could not see you again without truly seeing you, more than just as you shouted at me and threw me to the curb,” 
“You think so little of me?” I asked. There was no bite in it. 
“No, I think so little of myself,” he finally took a sip from his glass, “Any anger on your part is warranted,” 
We did not speak again for a long while. Helmut methodically went through the bite-sized pieces of steak on his plate as I finished the alfredo, which had grown cold in the time it took to sort things out. There was no quiet conversation, no jokes or shared stories in the glow of the lamps overhead. Instead we sat in peaceable silence and breathed in the finality of it all. I was almost grateful for it. I never would have imagined sharing a meal like this with him in all of the years I had known him and loved him. If it was to be the last, and it was, we would savor every moment of each others company. Every moment not spent on my meal was devoted to memorizing the line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes as he did the same for me. 
By the time the waiter came to ask about dessert, I could have written sonnets about his face alone, and by the time he returned with the check, paid discreetly with a 40% tip for his troubles on Helmut’s card, I had committed the sound of his breathing to my mind. I could only hope the memory would last this time.
Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t. 
I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as we approached the front of the restaurant together, pausing awkwardly outside the door as we exited out onto the street. 
“So, this is it,” My hands found the pockets of my coat as I rocked onto the balls of my feet. 
Helmut smiled softly in the lamplight. “Let me walk you home,” 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” 
“Says who? I have to follow you either way, my car is parked down the block,” He offered me his arm. 
I took it far quicker than I should have, relishing in the scent of his cologne. Even after all these years he had never switched to another brand, and I refused to admit to anyone else but myself that I was grateful for it. Instead I leaned into his warmth. “Well, it’s only a few blocks anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and with that, we were off. 
The night was cool. Summer had given in to the pull of a lush fall, the temperatures dropping to a comfortable but windy chill when the sun fell below the horizon. The leaves were not yet falling but they’d begun their slow transformation from green into a mosaic of reds and yellows and greens, forming a rustling canopy above the sidewalk that allowed a flash of stars and moon through the foliage every few steps. 
We were not the only pair walking through the streets that night, but if you had asked me about it later I would have said we were the only two people in the whole city, matching each other step for step under the flickering streetlights. Helmut’s crows feet were in full force as he laughed at my terrible jokes, and I couldn’t help but feel warmth rush through my neck and cheeks as he recounted the moment we first met. 
It had been fall then, too. A brief, chance encounter in the streets of Paris was all it was, a night spend with a stranger, until I had seen him again in Sibera, and again in Germany, and again on the Raft, and again, and again, and again, and again…
He had been younger then, much younger, and still raw with grief, but I had loved him even then.
I was so lost in my own memories that I almost missed the stairs up to my apartment, but Helmut paused there, keeping me rooted with him even though the look in his eyes told me he almost kept walking past, hoping to gain one more turn around the block before he had to let me go. He didn't, though. This was the end of the line. 
My arm slipped easily from its place against his own, hand catching briefly on the crook of his elbow. “Walk me to my door?”
His laugh felt almost nervous, a paid mockery of my own earlier reticence. “I don’t think that’s wise,” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman, baron?” 
“I have never claimed that,” For a moment, when he paused, I thought that would be that. I would turn my back, ascend the stairs, and turn around to find he’d shifted back into the shadows from whence he came, but then the moonlight caught on his soft, wet eyes. “But for you, schatz, I try to be,” 
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say as we walked up the front steps and into the building. 
It had been so angry last time. I had vomited up every hateful, raging, repressed thought that I had shoved down into my chest over the course of our turbulent time together all at once and left without a second glance. This time, though, it felt wrong to end things without giving him credit for all of the other things, the things I had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded us. How could I thank him? How could I tell him every wonderful thing about himself only to close the door in his face a moment later? I spent the whole trip up to my apartment trying to find a way to express even an ounce of what I felt, and then it was far too late. 
We stood there on my novelty doormat, boots settled over the dirty cartoon chickens, hands in our pockets, and breathed in the stale hallway air. 
“Thank you for dinner,” I said. If I shut off my heart and my mind and every other little betraying ache in my bones it was like it had been all those years ago. We were just meeting. This was the end of our very first date. There was a future instead of a past in the time that lay beyond us. 
Helmut averted his eyes from mine. I could tell he was pretending too. “Of course,” 
“I’ll see you again,” I lied, “I mean, it’s inevitable. We’ll end up at Bucky’s place at the same time,” 
“Or run into each other at a busy cafe,” he offered. 
“Exactly! Or our cells will end up next to each other in maximum security prison,” I laughed, but it caught, pathetic, in the back of my throat.  
He took a step back, boots leaving my doorstep. “I look forward to it, whenever it may be,” 
My shaking hands found my keys, an autopilot motion I had done a million times, and the door to my apartment swung open. I could hear Brutus in his kennel, beginning to whine the moment he heard me come home, but I paused there for a moment, one foot in and one foot out. 
“Goodbye, Helmut,” 
“Sleep well, schatz,” 
I stepped inside and locked the door without turning around for a last look. 
My tears came quicker than expected as I took in the room around me. It was the antithesis of my home with Helmut, all whites and beiges and grays from the sparse walls to the lonely couch against the wall. There was one great shock of black, though; a solid footprint on the windowsill. One last souvenir to remember him by. 
I had done the right thing. 
I had to have done the right thing. 
Life with Helmut was hell. It was exciting and lush and romantic and alluring but it was destructive and painful too. It would mean being seen and unseen for the rest of my life, living with the ghosts of those lost in Novi Grad. He would never stop being the man his grief had created. He was just too broken… wasn’t he? 
All at once I knew I had to see him again. This wasn’t going to be the end. There were still so many chances to make it right. 
Before I knew my own feelings, I was undoing the latch and throwing my door open, only to find him there, feet planted solidly on that stupid welcome mat and fist raised to lift the knocker. Our eyes locked. 
We didn’t need words then. 
No, all I needed was his lips on mine and my hands in his hair. It was a need easily rectified. 
He didn’t pull away as I grabbed the edges of his ridiculous fur coat and dragged him in for a kiss, letting the remains of that day’s lipstick smear against his chapped lips as the parted and made way for me. It was like a piece of my puzzle fell back into place, like the thing that had been lying dormant in my empty chest for the past two years had jumped to life and jumped into my throat. The tears weren’t coming anymore, though Helmut’s cheeks felt wet when I guided one of my hands to rest against it, dragging him closer. I needed him urgently. I needed all of it. Every moment I had missed. 
At least one time in my entire tiny, useless life I needed to know him as he had always known me. I had to see him through eyes that would know every atom of him by heart. 
It could have lasted second or hours. I was lost in it; lost in every heartbeat and the messy clack of teeth on teeth as we remembered exactly how our mouths locked into each other. There was no need to breathe. I would happily drown in him if he would let me. Through the passion I distinctly remembered this fervor, the endless need for him. It wasn’t frightening anymore, though. I knew how to walk away. We both did. 
This time I didn’t want to. 
Helmut was the first to pull away. His mouth was wet and red as he panted there, just a breath away from diving in for more, but he pulled away when I advanced again, instead choosing to speak between placing kisses on my cheeks and down my jaw. “I couldn’t let you walk away from me. Not again,” his voice shook as he kissed me, “Does that make me a bad man? Does that mean you can’t love me?” 
I could only breathe a laugh as I pressed my chest to him. No measure of closeness was enough. I needed him to cover every inch of me. “I don’t think I could stop loving you if I tried, and I’ve tried,” 
“Please, stop trying,”
With that, he caught me in another kiss. 
“We should probably go inside,” I panted, gesturing towards the apartment with my head and Helmut nodded, maneuvering us over the threshold and into the barren entryway of the home  I’d made without him. It didn’t matter, though. That wasn’t what I was focused on. Instead, my hands were more focused on pulling his coat from his shoulders and discarding it loosely in the direction of the coat rack between fevered kisses. 
The old Helmut would’ve pulled away and make some snarky remark about keeping the place clean. This Helmut, though- my Helmut, as I had selfishly started to refer to him mentally in the past few moments -just dragged me in closer after his arms were freed, letting his hand drift to the small of my back but not even an inch lower.
Suddenly, though, things seemed to cool. The kisses grew shorter, softer. His arms still held me but seemed to loosen their grip. 
“Tell me you want this,” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear, “That you want me,” 
Ah. So that’s what this is. 
“Helmut, of course I do-“ 
“That’s not enough,” his voice was laced with a rare seriousness as he pulled away to look at me properly. His brown eyes glowed a million honeyed colors under the shitty, flickering overhead lighting I should have replaced months ago. They flitted from my swollen mouth to my cheeks to my watery eyes as his hand came up to cup my cheeks again. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake or a bad decision you’ll regret the second we finish,” 
The rest went unsaid. 
(Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me this means something to you, even if it doesn’t mean as much as it does to me. Tell me I won’t wake up alone tomorrow morning. Tell me anything and everything except the cruel reality that neither of us really knows what the future looks like once this is over)
I simply nodded my head, coming in for one closed mouth kiss. “I want this. I want you. Whatever I choose to do next, you’ll be a part of the decision. No more running away,” 
Like a shot, we were off to the races again. 
It was hard to detach our bodies long enough to give Brutus a treat to quiet him down, harder still to lead him to the bedroom and drop his hand long enough to turn on a nearby lamp, but somehow I managed. For all of the small things I’d forgotten about Helmut in the two years we’d spent apart, his bitten nails and the silhouette of his nose and the sound of his labored breathing as he took in my body with something akin to animalistic hunger, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm we’d always found ourselves in intimately. 
His shirt came off first, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. I kissed down from his neck to his chest, letting myself pause on each and every pinkish scar that graced his flesh. I made a mental note to ask him about a few new ones, including a wicked one across his collarbone that still puckered into an inch long divot in his flesh. My fingers followed my mouth, mapping every inch of his flesh. They caught on every soft yielding place he offered, a worship on the altar of his body, dragging his flesh ever so slightly but never enough to leave a scratch or bruise. 
I would not mark him any more than the world already had. It was not my purpose to remold him into my image. Instead I would venerate what he was, what he had become. 
Helmut had put so much effort into changing himself, rebreaking the things that had never healed correctly and setting them right again. I refused to let him break down to splinters again. Not on my watch. 
He shuddered at my attentions. 
“Let me see you?” It was a question, not a demand, and how could I deny him when he asked so nicely? 
I stood up again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against the hem of my t-shirt, the gentle scratch of nails on skin as he lifted it over my head. When he looked at me, it was like he was looking at the most precious thing in the world. Usually he was so hungry for it that there was never a pause once my shirt was discarded. My bra would be thrown off with it, then my pants, then my underwear, all in such quick succession that I barely distinguished one article from the next in the order of things. This time, though, he paused, hands just inches from my bare flesh. 
“My sweet girl,” he whispered to me like a prayer, a confession, “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,” 
Slowly, deliberately, I stepped forward and pressed my body into his awaiting hands. He squeezed my hips once, gentle, and twice. Then they were roaming up to the clasp on my bra with that usual hunger again, freeing my breasts for his attentions. I don’t exactly recall how he manhandled me on to the bed, I was too busy feeling the hard press of his bulge through his crisp dress slacks. The first thing I was fully cognizant of was his hot breath on my sternum as he hovered over me, still standing but bent at the waist, boxing me in with his knees. 
“So fucking sweet,” he whispered before taking one of my nipples between his lips and laving his tongue over the hardening tip. 
I felt like a live wire. Heat was building everywhere. Dazzling electricity shot through my head and fingers and toes and cunt and gods especially my breasts. They were always my weak spot, and how he knew it, how he knew me. I wanted to thrash against him, to buck and gain his attention where I really needed it, but his body above mine held me fast, keeping me right where he wanted me, vulnerable to him and his specific brand of torture. With a particularly sharp pinch and a well timed suck he had me keening against him, curling into his every move. 
How had I lived without him? It was hard to imagine a night not spend here with Helmut, wherever here was, not that that mattered. I was embarrassingly wet. The slickness had gathered enough that I could feel it on my thighs despite my jeans. When I tried to relieve myself, though, the baron caught my hand, tutting softly. 
I expected to have to ask permission. Soft begs escaped my mouth. I needed him. I had no patience for games. Instead, though, he lifted up off of my chest and smiled, pulling my hand to his lips. “Let me help you, love,” 
There are no words in the human language that could adequately represent the sound that escaped my mouth. I could not even begin to try. It continued even as I lifted my hips to shimmy free from my jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, only ceasing when Helmut was on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. I was making different noises then. Loud. Guttural. If I had any mind left at all I would worry what my neighbors thought, to see me out on my doorstep desperately pawing at a man only to hear the noises we were making in tandem now. Thankfully, any sensible thought I had left seemed to fly out the window with Helmut’s first lick to my cunt. 
It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten me, and if he had, the muscle memory was coming back quick. His tongue was deft as it worked its way over my aching nub in a pseudo-figure eight; circling once, twice, and three times before dipping back through my folds. I held him in place this time, though, rocking into his mouth. At some point my hands found their way into his hair. It was so soft between my fingers, so pliable as I pulled against him, desperate for more of him, anything he would good. 
Every time he relented to me. Each sharp jolt was rewarded with a kiss against my thigh or a muttered curse in Sokovian, hot breath teasing my glistening mound. 
He was so giving, so attentive to my every need. He had always been a generous lover, never leaving me wanting for anything, but this felt… different. The way he sucked bruises into my thighs, relenting to each and every sobbing please that escaped my soft lips, was a new and devastating experience. There were no power games left to play, no lording his sexual prowess over me as he brought me slowly closer and closer to the ever distant goalpost, just his mouth on me over and over and over again as he wrung the first orgasm of the night out of me, then the second in short measure, barely ceasing from one to the next.
By the time he decided I’d had my fill, my legs were a trembling mess against his shoulders and my cunt was a sopping mess. 
He grinned a crooked grin at his masterpiece.
“How was that, my love,” 
I could barely catch my breath enough to speak. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, thrumming a frantic drumbeat even as the room quieted. “So good- really really good, Helmut,” 
Slowly, he rose up from his knees, undoing his belt. “Please say my name again, schatz,” 
“Helmut,” My voice was hushed. Reverent. 
He undid the button at his fly, pulling at the band of his boxers. “Again,” 
It fell from my lips like a prayer. “Helmut,”
His cock bounced free, bobbing as he took a sharp, steadying breath. He placed his hand at the base and squeezed slightly. 
“Again,” 
“Helmut,” 
“Fuck, that’s good,” The trance broke momentarily as I gazed up at him, watching the sweat roll down his forehead in shining rivulets despite the chill in the air. He wiped at them with the back of his free hand and smiled sheepishly. “Scoot back and get comfortable, please. I don’t think I’ll last long,” 
I did as he asked, settling against my pillows on the still-made sheets. “Neither will I,” 
“Where are your condoms?” 
“Bedside drawer, way in the back. I’m on the pill too, so no worries,” 
He moved quickly, grabbing a foil package from the small pile I’d accrued, just in case. 
It felt odd to have him be the one using them. 
There had been a few other men who had been invited here, fewer still that made it to the point that Helmut and I were at now. Every time, though, I hadn’t been able to go through with it, because every time they had finally settled themselves above me, I would close my eyes and, just for a moment, see Helmut in their place. It was unsettling the first time, enough so that I sent the guy home right away. The next time, though, it was more thought provoking than anything. I chalked it up to him being my longest lasting sexual partner and left it at that, but now, watching him roll the condom onto his length and crawl into his position over me, I knew. 
I would never get over him, even if I tried for years. My heart had a space carved out in the shape of his own. No matter how long I stayed away, I would never find something quite like what we had. He was it. This was what people dreamed about. And to think, I had almost let it slip away…
He slid one hand into mine, lacing our fingers together in the gentle lamplight. “Are you ready for me?” 
“More than ready,” My thighs spread as I canted my hips up.
Physically and mentally and every other possible way I needed him. I was prepared. 
So Helmut pumped himself once with his free hand before guiding himself into my wet heat. 
It was impossible to last long once we were finally complete. 
Feeling him inside me was like knowing the truth of the universe. It was comfortable, and thrilling, and so deliciously enough. He filled me well, finding his rhythm as he swore and released my hand to prop himself up more comfortably. We were linked together like the final pieces of a puzzle. I closed my eyes at let myself relish in it. 
There was nothing left to worry over while Helmut was inside of me. All thoughts that weren’t of him were banished. It was something to be cherished, every thrust paired with a whispered confession of love from one of us, a fleeting kiss, a curse, a plea… We laid ourselves bare. I let my legs wrap around his warm, soft hips as he rutted into me, bringing a hand between us to circle my clit once more. Even after everything he refused to leave me behind while he chased his own pleasure. It didn’t take much to send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion. 
As always, Helmut followed me down. 
His thrusts quickened, then stilled as he came to rest upon me, panting and heaving and begging for breath. I didn’t care much. He smelled of cologne and sweat as I buried my face in his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel him soften inside of me but I was far too spent to urge him to move.
We only shifted apart when he slipped free of me.
Helmut quickly kissed my forehead and gathered himself up, shuffling to the trash can to discard the used condom and grab a tissue to wipe himself up. I didn’t let myself move an inch. If I moved, would the bliss run away? Would I realize what I’d done? I let myself lay instead, eyes closed, panting in the autumn chill as my lover approached and wiped up our beautiful mess as gently as he could manage. With one last kiss to my thigh, he discarded the rag, opened the window, and crawled back into bed with me. 
The process was indelicate, a lot of awkward shuffling of sticky limbs, but we were settled beneath the blankets soon enough. Helmut stroked his fingers down my arm languidly while kissing the back of my neck. 
I broke the peace between us. 
“I don’t… I don’t know what this means for us,” 
He sighed gently. His breath was soothing and familiar against my shoulder. “That’s not something we have to decide at this very moment,” 
“But I just don’t want you to think this means something… or at least something more than it does? If that makes sense? I don’t know,”
“Schatz, please,” 
“I want to keep my own place, at least for now. I don’t know what that means for when I’ll see you or if we’ll keep doing this,” I gestured vaguely to my nude body beneath the sheets, “or if we’re even a thing anymore, bu-“ 
Helmut reached his arm around us, placing a quieting finger over my lips and another soft kiss against my shoulder. 
“I swear, your mind sounds even louder than mine,” 
“Sorry,” 
“No reason to be,” His hand left my lips, running down to my stomach and pulling me back towards the softness of his chest. “As for your questions, I shall respect your wishes about distance and housing and labels, whatever they may be. That being said, as long as you’re still up for… this, as you put it, I will never deny you, no matter the distance. I would cross oceans for you,” 
A cum-drunk, half-asleep giggle escaped me as he nuzzled in, kissing my ear. 
“Thank you,” 
“No, thank you,” he matched my laughter with his own, “I believe this is what James would call post nut clarity,” 
“Now you ruined it!” I huffed. The faux anger only lasted a moment, though, before I was rolling to face him, cheek pressed to the soft, downy hair of his chest. “I love you, Helmut.” 
“I love you too, sweet girl. Now sleep. I’ll get up and deal with the dog once you’re resting,” 
For the first time in two years, I breathed in the scent of Helmut’s cologne before lapsing into a peaceful sleep.
---------
A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my first foray into smut in literal years, and it was literally all written within a 12 hour period, so I hope any mistakes weren't enough to take away from your enjoyment. Comments are always appreciated, but never expected. See you on the next authors note!
351 notes · View notes
sebstan2020 · 2 months
Text
Red Ties
Chapter 18
Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend McCarthy. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.
Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence
Tumblr media
Mary sighed softly as she turned in her bed. She was absolutely exhausted from this week's night shifts and was looking forward to a good sleep. Her eyes could barely stay open by the time she got home, so she flung herself in bed without showering or bothering to make herself something to eat. The soft buzz of her phone made her roll over and snatch it from the small table, not bothering to look at who was calling her, and she answered in a groggy tone.
"Hello," she said, and the soft chuckle of James replied.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" He smiled, and Mary's eyes pinged open, her mouth settling into a pleased smile, and she felt a tingle run down her body.
"I just got in from my shift," she said.
"How was it?" he asked. There was a faint sound in the back, almost like it was windy, so he must be outside.
"Exhuasting, I'm just going to sleep all morning to catch up," she said softly.
"I was just calling to ask what time you wanted picking up; you need your rest," he smirked on the other end of the phone. If only Mary knew what he was implying by that. Yes, she needed her rest from her tiring night shift, but he needed her well-rested for what he had planned for tonight.
"Um, how about seven?" That would give her enough time to sleep and then to get ready.
"Alright, I'll pick you up at seven. Pack a bag." Another tingle ran down her body at the thought of staying over. What would he have planned for tonight, she wondered?
"Okay, are you working today?" She grinned, biting her lower lip, and her cheeks flushed a bright pink.
"Yeah, I'm out doing a couple of jobs today; I'm just on my way to see Yori," he said. He didn't dive too deep into the details.
"Ok"
"I'll see you later. Have a nice sleep," he smirked.
"See you later," she said, hung up the call, and felt the giddiness inside her. She was definitely starting to loosen up around James and wasn't as nervous as she was the first time she met him.
"Thank you," Yori said kindly as James handed him the coffee he picked up from the small coffee shop on his way over here. James slumped down in the comfy chair opposite Yori's, folding his leg over his left knee. He was dressed in a dark suit of navey with a shirt underneath and tie, his long legs in tightly fitted pants, and his dress shoes shiniing like they had never been worn.
"So, how is everything?" Yori asked.
"Good; business is really good; the club is running well; I can't really complain," he shrugged. The business has been really good for him. His shipments were coming on time, and for once, Zemo wasn't being the sneaky little shithead he normally is.
"Oh, that's good, for once you're not just shrugging your shoulders and saying everything is fine when it isn't." Yori nodded, sipping his coffee. It was true. James didn't like to talk work when things didn't go his way. but recently everything was going well. Zemo wasn't being a little shit like he normally is; his shipments are on time, and his loans are being repaid. But it wouldn't last long until someone fucked up, and he'd have to deal with it.
It occurred to James that he hadn't told Yori about Mary. Things seemed to be getting more serious with her now, so he felt this was a good time to bring it up.
"Also, I met someone," he said casually, and Yori looked up, wide-eyed with surprise.
"Oh, let me guess, another model to work at your club that you can fuck whenever," he assumed, and James scoffed, shaking his head, but a smile appeared. Little shit.
"No, actually, she's a nurse; she actually comes here to look after your neighbours. I met her the day I spilled coffee down me; we bumped into each other that day, he explained, and Yori hummed.
"Not that horrible witch down the hall, is it?" he questioned, and James chuckled.
"I don't know; I'll have to ask. You know, it might be a good idea for her to come and check on you now and then." Before he could finish his sentence, Yori waved his hand, shaking his head with refusal.
"Absolutely not; I don't need someone coming to wipe my ass," he grumbled.
"She wouldn't be doing that; just checking your okay," James reassured.
"I can look after myself.".
"Yori, you had a bad fall; what if something happened and it was serious? You already hurt your arm," James argued. As much of a fighter as Yori was, he was old and frail, and sooner or later he could hurt himself badly if he didn't have someone check on him now and then, just to make sure he was taking his medication and eating okay.
"No," he said, acknowledging he wasn't going to have a babysitter, and James sighed.
"Just think about it," he said.
"Anyway, I'm seeing Mary tonight," and he couldn't wait. It was going to seem like such a long day before he could get his hands on her, and tonight he had a wild night planned for her that was going to make her even more exhausted than her night shifts this week.
"Do you like her?" Yori asked, and James fell silent.
Yes, he did. It was the first time he had liked a girl like this and didn't just think of her as a piece of meat to fuck and order around, not like the girls at Vanilla, especially not like Natalie. Mary was a kind, sweet flower that needed extra protection and love. But that didn't stop the urge to want to take her into his bedroom and have her call him Sir while he spanks, whips, sucks, and fucks her. But she was nowhere near that stage and perhaps wouldn't be for a long time.
"Yeah, I do," he smiles back.
"But does she know who you are?" The question hit hard, and James had been avoiding it since he met her. He was going to have to tell her at some point. The fake story of who he was and his job was going to have to be replaced with the real him. the notorious, frightening mafia king of New York and the dominant bastard he was. 
"No, I haven't told her yet. I'm waiting for the right time," whenever that is. Perhaps he was just avoiding it completely, but he would have to face it someday.
James gave Yori a hug as he left, not before mentioning the possibility of Mary coming to check on him. He grumbled a reply, but James was going to ask her anyway, for his own peace of mind. Yori was a dear friend to him, and if anything happened to him, he'd be heartbroken.
It wasn't long before James was on his way to pick Mary up. He sped through traffic, overtaking when he could, so he didn't waste time in traffic. The more he'd see Mary, the calmer he would be. He instantly smiled when he saw her waiting for him outside her apartment block, her bag by her feet. She looked stunning, dressed in a flower skirt and a grey top with sneakers. He quickly jumped out of the car, fetching her bag and pressing a peck on her lips before leading her to the car.
The whole journey, he had his hand on her bare knee, the ring on his thumb cold compared to her warm skin. She was glowy and smelled divine. He couldn't wait to take her home.
"How was your sleep?" he asked on the way there.
"Good, I'm well rested now," she smiled, and James smirked. It wouldn't be long before she was going to be free.
"How was work?" she asked.
"Yeah, busy; I had a couple of meetings to attend, but I'm glad I could finish early," he smiled.
"I'll be glad when I finish these night shifts this week; they can be so exhausting, plus all the weridos come in at night.".
Jame's chuckled at that. He knew exactly what she meant. The crack heads of New York weren't unknown, and it wasn't uncommon for a drug overdoser to come into the ER every night.
"I can imagine.".
"They can be so creepy as well," she said, and possessiveness ran through James. The very thought of creeps drooling over his girl, trying to put their hands on her, made him want to slaughter every one of them.
They arrived at the mansion and James led Mary inside, his hand resting softly on her back. The fresh scent of eucalyptus hit her senses, and the mansion was sparkling clean.
"We'll have dinner first," James said, and Mary nodded, following him into the dining room.
"Yo Buck, the shipment of gu-" a man wondered into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks and mid-sentence as James shot him a look that Mary couldn't see. He was tall, much like James and Steve, darker in complexion, and wore a well-fitted suit of navey with a bright white shirt underneath. He had a wide smile as his eyes darted to Mary.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had company." He slightly wiggled his brows at James, who looked over his shoulder at Mary.
"Sam, this is Mary. Mary, this is Sam, who I was telling you about." Sam glided over to Mary, holding out his hand while he took a look at her. She was beautiful, and he could understand why James was infatuated with her.
"Nice to meet you," she said sweetly as they shook hands.
"So what was he saying about me?" Sam said it intridingly, and Mary softly giggled.
"Only that you work for him," she replied.
"Oh for him... hmmm, I didn't realise I was an employee," Sam joked as James plated up the dinner. James shook his head slightly, smirking.
"He likes to think he's the boss of us," Sam said as he padded over to the fridge for a beer.
"That's because I am," he replied. He was the head of the gang, but he respected his men more than anyone else in the world, so if anything were to happen to him, he wouldn't worry about them taking over.
Sam chugged down his beer, breathing deeply with an ah.
"So what do you think of Mr. Blue Eyes?" Sam chuckled as James shoved his head slightly, glaring at him at the use of his nicknames, and Mary couldn't help but chuckle.
"He's been nothing but a gentleman to me," she said honestly.
"Oh good, he's not normally this nice.".
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" James hinted with wide eyes, and Sam sighed, slamming the empty bottle on the counter.
"Alright, alright, I'll go; it was nice meeting you, Mary," Sam said.
"It was nice meeting you," she smiled.
"I'll let you know later," Sam whispered to James just as he left, and he nodded before placing two plates on the counter for him and Mary, swiftly sitting in the seat next to hers.
"Sorry about him.".
"It's alright, he's funny," she said, and James laughed.
"Yeah, don't believe everything he says about me." Mary wondered if he was being serious, but she passed it off with a laugh.
After dinner, he led Mary up to his room, carrying her bag for her. Dinner was delicious once again. Mary perched on the edge of the bed as James dropped her bag onto one of the chairs in the corner of the room.
"That dinner was amazing; thank you for cooking," she said sweetly, and James smiled.
"Your welcome; I like cooking for you," he said as he casually walked over to her.
"Don't you cook for Steve and Sam?" She asked as he stood in front of her, towering over her, his large hands coming up to cup her cheeks.
"Sometimes, we sort of take it in turns, but work can get so busy that I forget to eat sometimes." What he meant by that was that he was busy out collecting shipments or dealing with fuckers who don't pay him back because he didn't have time to eat. James's eyes ran down her body, taking in how gooey she looked. The skirt had drifted up higher, so her thighs were on show, and he felt a tingle in his cock. He wasn't sure he could wait any longer for her.
He leaned down and kissed her softly, the subtle taste of red wine still on his lips. He had a glass of expensive red, while she stuck to the fancy lemonade. James had to remind himself she didn't drink, as he kept wanting to offer her a glass but knew it wasn't her thing. It made her so innocent.
"I'm going to go get washed up, he whispered against her lips, and she nodded.
"Okay," she whispered, and he padded into the bathroom, turning on the tap to brush his teeth and wash his hands. The smell of garlic was lingering on them, and he needed to freshen up for tonight.
As he washed up, Mary's eyes flickered around his bedroom, in awe of how big it was, and she noticed there was another door. How she hadn't noticed it the first time she didn't know, but seeing as the one that was open was his bathroom, she wondered what that one led to.
"What's the other door for?" She said this as he came out of the bathroom. He looked over at it, suddenly tensing a little but relaxing quickly.
"Oh, it's just my cloest," he shurried, and she nodded. Of course it would be; what else would it be?.
James came over, smelling of rich colonge and minty breath, his hands soft from the moisturiser he had just applied. There was silence filling the room except for the scuff of his feet on the carpet as he came over to her, cupping her face in his hands once again and leaning down to kiss her. His lips pressed against her so softly yet so deeply and slowly. Mary softly moaned in his lips, her hands coming up to his neck as he pressed deeper into her mouth, opening it up so that their teeth clashed and tongues danced together. That's it; he couldn't wait any longer.
Chapter 19
Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know in the comments what you think
@pattiemac1
@sebastiansluts
@charmed-asylum
@blackwood-bodecker-housewife
@abaker32
@samjuarezzz
@sebastians-lover-blog
@buckysgirl85
@captainsarahscratches
@thischubbydumpling
@dhoruwolfie
@silvaren-ladybird
@hazomi
@unaxv
@wintxr-widow
@identity2212
70 notes · View notes
multifandomfix · 2 months
Text
A Protective Hand — Helmut Zemo
Tumblr media
Summary: While at an underground party gathering intel about the Flagsmashers with Zemo, he gets a little more protective than is necessary.
Word Count: 777
Warnings: Zemo calls reader his wife
Tumblr media
The pulsating beat of electronic music reverberated through the air as you and Zemo seamlessly blended your way into the eclectic crowd. The atmosphere buzzed with the frantic energy of the underground club, but you were there for one purpose — gathering crucial intel on the elusive Flagsmashers.
Zemo, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, moved with grace and confidence —if perhaps a few awkward dance moves— a stark contrast to the raw and chaotic surroundings. His sharp eyes constantly scanned the room, assessing potential threats and gauging the reactions of those around you. As you navigated the crowded space, Zemo's presence felt both reassuring and slightly unnerving.
The intel you sought was rumored to be within the grasp of the party's attendees, many of whom were connected to the shadowy world of the Flagsmashers. Zemo's contacts had led you to this underground gathering, where secrets were exchanged amidst the thumping bass and dimly lit corners.
You and Zemo played your roles seamlessly, undercover operatives seeking information, disguising your true purpose with laughter and casual conversation. The dynamic between you and Zemo, however, took an unexpected turn when he subtly, yet unmistakably, became more protective.
It started with a subtle touch. A guiding hand on the small of your back, perhaps meant to be an innocently protective gesture as you weaved through the dance floor. Zemo's watchful eyes never strayed far from you, his awareness heightened as he assessed every face in the crowd. The intensity of his gaze, at times, felt like a shield guarding you from unseen threats.
As you engaged in conversations with potential sources, Zemo's protective instincts became more apparent. He positioned himself strategically, subtly creating a barrier between you and the rest of the party. His actions spoke louder than any words could. It was a silent declaration of his commitment to ensuring your safety in this dangerous game of espionage.
In one corner of the dimly lit venue, you found yourself engaged in a conversation with a seemingly unassuming partygoer who might have ties to the Flagsmashers. Zemo, ever watchful, stood nearby, his cold, calculating gaze never leaving the interaction. The air crackled with tension as Zemo's demeanor shifted, his protective instincts reaching a new level.
As the conversation progressed, the partygoer's tone grew more assertive, and Zemo's patience wore thin. Without a word, he stepped forward, a silent warning in his eyes. The partygoer, sensing the shift, excused themselves, leaving you alone with Zemo.
"You're attracting the wrong kind of attention," Zemo remarked, his voice low and authoritative. His protective demeanor, while slightly overbearing, carried a genuine concern for your well being. You wanted to be mad, but you truly hadn’t been making any progress with the stranger, so it’s not as if he’d disrupted the mission at hand.
The dance floor pulsed with the rhythm of the music, and Zemo's grip on the situation tightened. With a subtle nod, he guided you toward a quieter corner, away from prying eyes.
"Caution is paramount in these situations," Zemo reminded. His words were unnecessary, as you already knew them to be true, but they also held a note of genuine worry. "The Flagsmashers are not to be underestimated."
You nodded in understanding, knowing this was neither the time nor the place to fight him on the issue. Besides, you appreciated Zemo's commitment to the mission and, oddly enough, to your safety. As the night progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that Zemo's protective instincts had forged an unspoken connection between you, transcending the confines of the mission.
Finally, you gained some intel in an overheard conversation on the dance floor. Yet, when you made to leave and reunite with Zemo to fill him in, there was one man that would not let you escape so easily. He’d grabbed your wrist and tugged you back. A noise of surprise escaped you and your eyes immediately darted back and forth, searching for Zemo. You knew he wouldn’t be far.
And he wasn’t. You no sooner turned around and there he stood. “I ask that you release your hand from my wife,” he stated. Your brain short circuited. His what? But the threat worked and the hand immediately left your person.
Suddenly, you regained your wits and played along. “Thank you, Helmut,” you replied, making sure your voice was sweet as sugar. You took a step closer to him and he followed your lead, putting his arm around you. You looked at him adoringly, which you found wasn’t all that difficult. Finally, the man left, and Zemo walked you out, keeping you close. You’d done well and you couldn’t have asked for a better partner.
For anon
Tumblr media
Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure
Helmut Zemo: @unexpected-character, @lilyontheloose, @puppy-coded, @marinarashakeyobooty, @og-kxsh-420, @becomingthedreamversionofme, @music-bird, @chaotic-mushroomz, @mbruben-stein, @sunflowergurlsposts, @danimorgan1708, @jkthighs, @onlykeres, @floresferae, @stressydepressyandlemonzesty, @multifandomlover01, @tokyo-liv, @geekyandgay98, @sweetyprincesschaos, @yetanotherattemptatanaccount, @lady-darkswan3, @an0nimowe, @postcardgirl425, @garlicbreadrry, @bestfriend491, @il0vebeingdelulu
118 notes · View notes
volklana · 9 months
Text
Honey Whiskey
Title comes from this song: 
Request:  An idea just wont leave my mind and I would love for you to write if its no trouble. What if during tfaws during Madripoor Bucky sleeps with Sharon and y/n is absolutely devastated, Zemo offers her the chance to get back at Bucky and jealous/protective Bucky ensues and reminds her who she really belongs to?
I kind of took it in a bit of a different direction but I still hope you enjoy xx
Warnings: Zemo x Reader//Bucky x Reader// Smut (With Both)//Angst
A/N:  любимая (pronounced lyubimaya) means darling.
         Not proof read but all mistakes will be corrected in time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was stupid to be crying in the bathroom.
There were so many bigger things at hand but here you were, holding yourself steady on the bathroom sink, tears streaming down your cheeks and forcing yourself to take deep breaths.
The worst part is you had seen it coming from the moment they locked eyes in Madripoor, their chemistry was undeniable. The stolen looks, the lingering touches and the sly smirks she threw your way when she realized you were wary.
But seeing her, sneaking out of his room, in nothing but his shirt certainly solidified it.
“Ooops,” she giggled, brushing past you with a shove, and you made it precisely to the close of your door before the tears fell.
You did your best to push your feelings aside, finding Nagle was way more important than whatever was going on with Bucky, Sharon and by extension you. 
Pulling up to Zemo’s apartment, Bucky suddenly fell back, and announced he was going to take a walk. You followed after him intending to ask if he was ok, until you caught up to him and he was on the phone. 
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” he laughed and you hung back a second, heart pumping a thousand miles an hour in your chest and slinked into an alley before he could see you, and it felt like you scrambled up the streets of Riga until you made it inside the door of Zemo’s apartment. 
And here you were, propped up on the washbasin trying to prevent the tears falling.
You washed your hands and as you were drying them the bathroom door swung upon and now you were face to face with a pair of brown eyes that for the first time since you’d met him seemed genuinely kind, Zemo. 
“What is this?” he said softly “Why do you cry?”
You scrunched your face, trying to answer but simply shook your head as the tears stung your eyes. 
He moved to cup your face and you found yourself quite unable to move away, trapped between his warm body and the basin behind you. He used his thumb to gently sweep away the tears that stained your cheeks and you felt so ashamed looking up through wet lashes to examine the eyes baring down into yours.
The overhead lights made his brown eyes seem like honey whiskey that you could easily drown in. And you kind of wanted to...
“No man on earth is worth these,” he said almost in a whisper, stopping to examine the perfect droplet on his finger.
His gentleness scared you, but then again he must have been kind once, he had been married, she had trusted him enough to carry his children, there had to be tenderness there, beneath it all.
“He loves you,” he said simply and you shook your head, “James who you cry these tears for, he loves you. He is not ready to love you the way you deserve but he does love you.”
You wanted to know how he knew these things but you didn’t trust your own voice, you wanted to argue that you couldn’t compare even an inch to Sharon and suddenly he was stroking your cheek again.
“She doesn’t want him,” he stated simply “It’s a cruel game she’s playing. The Captain chose you over her, chose to keep you by his side. So she is taking your James just to prove she can.”
“She wants to hurt me,” you whispered and his eyes moved to look directly into yours, and he nodded slowly, intently. 
“The way you hurt her.” 
 You wanted to argue that you hadn’t been the one to hurt her, but something else seemed more important in the moment.
“Hurt people, hurt people,” you stated looking up into his eyes and he hmmed.
“You were hurt,” you noted, brushing  your hand along his arm, “Behind it all you were hurt.”
He nodded. 
“You need to be careful with Sharon. I had everything I ever wanted, and I lost it all and so did she.” It was a warning. “She is dangerous.” 
“What about you?” you questioned gently, “Do I need to be careful with you?”
“I am dangerous, yes..but I will never hurt you.” 
His eyes flicked down to your lips and for a split second you wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to fully immerse yourself in honey whisky and amber and bergamot
You startled at the sound of your name being called and you looked into his eyes sadly.
“Go, любимая,” he said sadly “They will be suspicious, I’ll stay just long enough to not arouse suspicions.” 
Bucky and Sam were going to do recon, Zemo had gone to shower and you agreed to stay behind with him.
Before they left, Bucky doubled back.
“Are you sure you’re okay doll?” he enquired tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear “You know you can talk to me about anything don’t you?” 
“I know Buck,” you sighed, unable to meet eyes, “I’ll talk to you when you get back, go on don’t keep Sam waiting.” you pushed and he seemed to accept he wasn’t going to get anything else from you.
Zemo emerged from his chambers in a navy bathrobe and your eyes immediately were drawn to a gold chain nestled in the hair on his chest.
You wanted to slide the robe open and watch it drop to the floor, you wanted to finish what you had started in the bathroom but the air was thick with things unsaid. 
“Whisky?” he asked gently and you nodded. He had left the door to his room open and while he poured you looked at the four poster bed draped in red and gold.
What caught your eye was a cloth bound, faded book on his nightstand and you wanted to see what it was.
“Go ahead,” he nodded, following your line of sight and when you picked it up you gasped.
“Is this a first edition?” you were almost too afraid to turn the pages and he scoffed in reply “Of course!”
You were holding in your hand a first edition of Dostoevesky’s The Idiot.
“The world will be saved by beauty,” you mused, holding the book out to him, and he quirked his head in amusement.
“You have read Dostoevsky?” 
“Of course,” you seemed offended.
 “Do you think it’s true? That beauty can save the world.”
“I believe so,” he said no hint of teasing, as he came to join you in his room, “You are very beautiful and you do your best to protect the world. And there are still so many beautiful things in this world. Sit,” he instructed and you sat gently on his bed as you accepted the glass of whisky he handed you. 
You looked at him for a long time and shook your head “Helmut, you could have had a good life. Look at this place,” you gestured around “You could have done some good.”
“I have no regrets, любимая. I did what I felt I needed to do to make sure nothing like Sokovia ever happens again. Now I live with the consequences.” 
You brought your knee up to rest your chin on, he couldn’t quite make out your facial expression.
“You are sad for me?” he almost gasped coming to kneel before you, realisation hitting him like a brick in the face
“Yes,” you replied sadly, “And I am sad for me, because now that I see you, I don’t think I can ever look away again.”
He surged forward to meet your lips pushing you down into the mattress behind. You gasped, grasping the material of his robe and as he climbed on top of you, gold chain dangling in front of your eyes.
You slipped your hands along his chiseled chest and pushed his robe down his arms until the belt gave way and it slinked off his body and tumbled to the ground.
“My god,” you mused as you drank in his body, chiseled and lean and powerful, and he had you in the palm of his hands.
He pulled the flimsy material of your top apart and slid his hands up under the band of your bra, fondling your breasts until your back arched off the bed, without warning that was ripped away too and he made quick work of your jeans and underwear kissing his way up your inner thigh and all the way up to your breasts which he absolutely devoured, you were sure you would be marked tomorrow with the way he nipped the supple skin.
That gave you a sick satisfaction knowing you might carry his mark with you for days and nobody would know but him. “So fucking beautiful.” he mused. 
He pushed your legs apart with his knee, “Tell me to stop, he panted in your ear “Tell me to stop before I can’t.”
“No, no,” you ordered, yanking on the gold chain to pull him closer “Don’t dare stop!” 
His thrusts were slow and languid, and he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, relishing in the feel of you, he chuckled as your eyes rolled back in your head. Face flushed red from the action. 
Your eyes widened as his hand closed around your throat and he began to pick up speed, slowly. 
“Your life is in my hands, and you would trust me with it?" 
"Yes, I trust you," you panted honestly and he took his hands away completely, looking at you with an expression nothing short of adoration, before diving down to meet your lips again. You clasped his gold necklace in your hand for something to grasp as he pounded into you as you came undone, and ever the gentleman, once you had taken your turn he came after you. 
You were close to sleep when he nuzzled into your hair "This is my only regret. That I will never get to do this again… not with you." 
You didn't know how to respond so you simply placed a kiss to his chest. 
You knew he was right, there was no way you would get to do this again, as soon as Sam found Karli, Zemo would be headed straight back to jail.
 He was twirling a piece of your hair around his finger, content just holding you close, before you broke the silence.
“Would you like another glass of whisky?” he hmmd against your hair and you clambered out of the bed, picking his discarded robe off the ground and tossing it on, you reached for his glass on the nightstand and placed a kiss to his lips.
You had been right, his eyes were honey whisky and you had gladly drowned in them.
You filled up two glasses from the decanter on the island, and you heard his door close.
“You are so impatient Baron,” you giggled, turning around to come face to face not with honey whisky eyes, but cold, startled blue ones, Bucky.
"What the fuck is this?" he was seething, chest visibly rising and falling rapidly. 
You were like a deer caught in headlights, too stunned to move a muscle.
“This is what’s been wrong with you? You’re hung up on that piece of shit? God!” he actually fumed “I left Sam on his own to come home and check on you because I was worried about you and all this time you were fucking him?” 
“James,” Zemo’s voice startled Bucky from behind, “It wasn’t like that.” 
Bucky moved so quickly it was like a blur and suddenly his metal arm was around Zemo’s throat and he pushed him back against the doorframe, “You fucking touched her, I told you I would kill you if you touched her! I told you she was mine!” 
“Bucky,” you rushed trying to force yourself between them “Bucky, stop! Please!” You managed to get a hand on his chest and he allowed you to push him backwards, slowly releasing his hold on Zemo’s throat. Keeping your eye on him as he gulped in air, you kept your hand on Bucky’s chest, and he laughed suddenly.
“She actually cares, oh this is priceless. Tell me doll, how does it feel to be nothing but a conquest? To be a pawn in a game you didn’t even know you were playing?” 
You looked at Zemo but he was refusing to meet your eye.
Was it true, he’d done all this for some sick joke? Or to get one up on Bucky?
You felt like you were going to be sick.
“Is it true? It was just a game to you?” you asked, voice so small you were ashamed and he lifted his eyes so quickly to meet your eyes, he began to shake his head but the way you were looking at him, so small, he couldn’t lie.
“Initially, yes. But I cannot deny that you got under my skin and I grew to care for you. Nobody could fake this past night we spent together.”
You hugged the fabric of his robe tighter around your body suddenly feeling way more exposed than you would have liked.
Your eyes were burning with red hot tears and you willed them not to fall.
Bucky huffed out a laugh again and you met his hard eyes, finding no compassion there, “I’ve always been a joke to you Buck haven’t I?” 
You weren’t sure why in this moment it was Bucky you were mad at.
“You give me just enough to keep me holding on, and then fuck the next woman that comes your way, but it’s okay because you know I’ll be there to pick right up where you left me.” 
“What on earth are you talking about?” he demanded, taking an angry step towards you.
“Sharon,” you offered meekly, taking a step back from him as shock crossed his face, “Yes James, I knew. I knew the moment it happened, that has been what’s wrong with me these past few days. I've been hung up on you. You James, not him.” 
He couldn’t answer you, eyes scanning the room for some inspiration on how to respond.
“I’m done being a joke to men like you,” you directed at them both and Zemo took a step towards you only for Bucky to turn on him in warning not to come closer. 
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you wiped swiftly at the tear that rolled down your cheek,” you sighed before laughing at your own stupidity, “Fellas, it was fun while it lasted.” 
You sidestepped Bucky who reached for you as you made to move by and you didn’t spare Zemo a second look.
Neither of them tried to stop you leaving when you pulled your suitcase out the door and got into the taxi waiting outside. 
You cried so much in the first few days you were home, you honestly had no tears left to cry. 
You really missed Nat, she had always been the one you went to with boy trouble, she always knew how to kick your ass into action. 
You’d seen the news the night before which meant Sam and Bucky would be home soon and you were not ready to face either of them, in fact you were actively dodging Sam’s calls which really wasn’t fair.
You heard his shuffled footsteps behind you, he wanted you to hear him, otherwise he was well capable of sneaking up on you.
“Why are you here?” your voice came out shakier than you wanted but you didn’t turn around.
“I needed to see you,” he pleaded.
“Buck,” you sighed, fumbling with your key in the lock before finally getting your apartment door open and stepping inside, Bucky followed suit closing the door behind him “I’m not doing this again. Whatever this toxic thing is, I don’t want it anymore.”
“Will you look at me?” he begged and you shook your head quickly.
“I can’t,” you cried. If you looked at him all your resolve would melt. 
“Y/n, look at me please”
“Doll,” he begged, turning you to face him but you refused to meet his eye, arms folded across your chest to protect yourself, “Hey,” he pleaded, hooking his index finger under your chin and rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.  
“Will you please look at me,” he whispered and finally you allowed yourself to meet his eyes.
“I handled this all wrong,” he whispered again, continuing to brush his thumb gently over your lip “So wrong doll. And I am so sorry.” You wanted to lean slightly into his touch but you also wanted to protect yourself. 
 “I was scared,” he began but you rolled your eyes, he gave you a pleading look and continued “I know you don’t want to believe it but I wasn’t ready doll, I wasn’t ready to open myself up to being hurt. That’s the truth. It was a cop out, but I was scared.”
“Scared that I would hurt you?” you laughed incredulously, and he removed his hands from your face and looked genuinely upset.
“Yes,” he answered honestly, “Raynor she said I shouldn’t do this unless I was fully willing to be open and vulnerable with you. And I was afraid If I opened myself up to you-showed you all the ugly parts, it wouldn’t be enough. I was scared that I would not be enough for you. Those other girls didn't matter. Sharon didn’t matter. I’ve always been yours, Always. I’ve been yours from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
He truly looked upset, tears in his eyes and biting his cheek.
You  honestly felt shell shocked and just about spluttered out “All this time I thought I wasn’t good enough for you! And you, you let me think that back in Riga. God!” you huffed “This is such a fucking mess!” 
“I was out of line, I said things I didn’t mean because I was hurt.”
You hugged your arms around yourself “I was hurt too.” you cried and Bucky was before you in seconds.
“Tell me what to do, because I’m yours doll. I’m yours!” he was begging.
“Show me,” you panted pulling him to you “Show me you're mine” 
He surged forward and pulled you to him in an instant and threw you over his shoulder and you squealed as he plopped you down on the bed.
He made quick work of both your clothes and catching your hands in his metal arm he trapped your arms above your head. He kissed his way down your neck, stopping to inspect a little mark just above your left breast, you watched his expression turn almost animalistic as he realised just who had given you that mark, he bit down and sucked hard on your neck, spurred on by the sounds he was eliciting from you.
“Nobody but me ever gets to mark you like this again,” he growled before he picked up a ferocious pace. You managed to wrangle free and he allowed you to flip him over so his back was pushed into the mattress, and you climbed on top.
You ran your hands from his muscled torso all the way up his chest and stopped to wrap your hands around his neck, “Who do you belong to?” you whispered, stilling all action. He groaned and shifted his hips in an attempt to get you to move. 
You squeezed slightly tighter and god damn he made the hottest noise you had ever heard, begging from somewhere in the back of his throat.
“Who do you belong to Buck?”
“Fuck! You...doll. Belong to you,” he moaned “Please, please,” and with that you began to move your hips in ways that had the supersoldier crying out your name, hand fisted in your hair to expose the soft skin of your neck to him, he suddenly rose up and bit down again before he suddenly reached his release.
“Fuck!” he cried out again, collapsing back onto the bed pulling you down with him. 
You were making some lunch when he emerged from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and he began rummaging through his rucksack. He pulled out a square parcel wrapped in brown wrapping  paper, and seemed to be hesitating giving it to you before finally conceding to whatever mental battle he was going through.
“As much as this literally, and I mean literally kills me to admit, I truly don’t believe you were just a conquest to Zemo. I promised him I would give this to you and to prove my devotion to you, I am keeping my promise.” 
You gingerly unwrapped the parcel, and felt your eyes water as you realised what it was. The first edition of Dostoevsky’s The Idiot that you had picked up from his nightstand. There was a little note scrawled in beautiful cursive writing on a piece of parchment inside “любимая, my feelings were real, and the night was beautiful. And I do believe your beauty can save the world. HZ.”
  Tagging: 
@spookyparadisesheep   @jbbarnesgirl   @salvatoreitmeanssaviour@princesscornbread   @loki-laufeyson-1054 @firstcashheroathlete @missvelvetsstuff     nana1000night   sapphire-rogers   @sarahrogersevans   @steverogerssimpp @spudinthemud   @mrsragnarlodbrok @buckgasms @miss-patriciah-maximoff   @hellomissmabel  @knittingknerdy @shamvictoria11 @buckysberrie @assembletheimagines @dearthofequanimity @wellthatsrandomkek @mitra-k-w @nikkitia7 @fantasticimpaladoctor @feelmyroarrrr @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @andhiseyesweregreen @frickin-bats @buckyywiththegoodhair @iiharu-kunii @bellenuit45-blog @james-bionic-barnes @avengerofyourheart @jaegers-and-kaijus   princess76179   brasspistol  thelittleredrobinhood  
222 notes · View notes
jtargaryen18 · 9 months
Text
His Inheritance ~ Surprise Chapter 31 Preview
Tumblr media
Yeah, I'm at a park right now eating from food trucks and getting ready for a band and fireworks later. Wish me luck...
But, I thought I'd send you a little present if you're not out and about this evening. A little hint of what's to come. I love you! 💕💕💕
When Bucky’s phone rang, it didn’t surprise him. When he saw Kat’s number…
They didn’t have plans tonight. Why the hell was she calling?
“Hello,” Bucky said, pausing the cage match he’d been watching.
“Bucky?” Kat sniffled, tears in her voice.
“Yes?”
“I’m at the hospital,” she said, clearing trying not to sob.
“Have you been hurt?” he asked, pulling the lever to sit up in his recliner. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s my sister, Paulina.”
Ah. “What happened?”
“She’s unconscious,” Kat managed. “I don’t know what happened. But neither of us have insurance…”
Neither of them was legal residents of the US either. Bucky sighed.
“I’ll send someone down there,” he told her, ready to get back to his fight. Before his hand reached the lever on his chair, she started sobbing in earnest.
“Please,” Kat begged him. “Will you come down here?”
Kat wasn’t usually so needy. Usually, she stuck to their agreement. Something must have had her spooked.
“Give me a few minutes,” he said before hanging up.
Shaking his head, he shot a text to his men telling them he needed the car ASAP.
Erik Killmonger was there in less than five minutes. He’d been a soldier for the Barnes family for the last five years. The entire time, he’d handled the tasks that he was given. He never failed, followed orders to a fault, and was always quiet and respectful, Bucky’s two favorite qualities in a soldier.
Killmonger’s ambition had been obvious from the beginning. It was in the confident way he walked, the efficient way he took care of business. It was there when he asked Bucky if he could serve him personally. Since then, he had Killmonger reporting directly to Hansen and he showed the same respect to him.
The two men were comparable in their abilities, evenly matched when it came to killing a man. But where Hansen liked to put on a show and preen around, psychologically breaking down his prey, Killmonger was silently lethal. Bucky had to wonder if half of the men he’d sent him to kill even saw it coming.
Now that Hansen was wherever the fuck Hansen was, Bucky didn’t believe for a fucking minute the bastard was dead, Killmonger was his top lieutenant. Maybe he should have been all along.
He’d put the man in charge of finding Hansen. Killmonger knew him better than he did. Bucky’s only request was that he be brought in alive.
Bucky wanted to kill the fucker himself.
The betrayal signed his death warrant. The fact that Hansen thought he was going to just make off with the woman Bucky coveted, the bright jewel in the crown he'd soon wear... Bucky was just sorry he could only kill him once.
“Where we off to?” Killmonger asked, ready to go.
“The hospital,” Bucky said, following him out to the garage. “Kat’s sister is there. I don’t know what happened yet.”
Killmonger held the door open for Bucky to climb in the back of the huge SUV. Walking around, Killmonger took a seat in the front next to the driver.
Bucky caught Zemo’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to the hospital. St. Agnes," he told him.
When they reached the hospital, pulling up to the door at the ER, Zemo again met his gaze in the mirror. “Should you be going in there, boss?” he asked respectfully.
“He can go wherever he wants,” Killmonger said, opening his door. “Nothing’s going to happen to him.”
Damn right. Very soon, Bucky would be the goddamn king of Boston.
149 notes · View notes
buckets-and-trees · 9 months
Note
DARE: the most trope trope to ever trope. Enemies to lovers, one bed maybe sex pollen too thrown in but I want them to be absolute desperate. Hate sex at its finest.
I'll take this dare, Nicola! Happily!
Tumblr media
Okay okay okay... this time I'm not going to accidentally write 2500 words - I HOPE.
I lied.
Since it was "most trope trope to ever trope," I did play hard with the muse to think of how I would want to read or write this...
...also because I love these tropes so much like...always. I always love them...
And we basically ended up with another Ari situation like last Friday, half-imagine, half fic, so... really we ended up with a full story.
Now, the only thing is, is that it's perfect for week 9 of Hot Bucky Summer. So...
How about a preview of the premise for now, and I'll tag/credit you on July 27 when I post this full fledged fic?
You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew pre-Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown. You stayed there a couple of years, but eventually moved into the private sector. When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the US - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky knew and heard about you. Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you... He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves (those who had sided with Cap over the Zemo stuff aside, he'd also learned to trust in Wakanda with so many of them building relationships with him), he just... he didn't know you, and so he didn't like it. What Bucky didn't like even more? You didn't blip out. So for five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
140 notes · View notes
Note
Just saw ur Daddy!Zemo and I knew I had to send in a request. Could u please do Zemo x little!reader where they just want cuddles and kisses all the time. I’m sorry if that’s a little vague but I hope u can u something with it. Thank u✨
Cuddly engel
Content - age regression, cg!zemo, cuddles, soft toys, paperwork, fluff, not proofread, don't like don't read.
Summary - when you can’t fight regression one night when zemo is working you desperately need him to help you.
Authors note - there was just something inside me that had to make the reader zemos wife he just gives off such good husband vibes, a bit shorter I was a bit tired, reblogs are greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy!<3
Translations - my love - meine Liebe, beautiful - schön, darling - liebling,
Tumblr media
You knew you shouldn’t have taken a nap this afternoon, you knew you were going to wake up small but you decided to do it anyway.
Oh did you regret it now.
You knew that you were safe to regress of course you did but it was just a bit tricky today, helmut had been working constantly for the past few weeks and while you knew he would drop everything in a heartbeat to take care of you you didn’t want to bother him.
So for for the next half an hour you lied there on your back staring up at the ceiling trying to get your older mindset back, but nothing would work it was completely pointless.
Eventually you decided to swallow your pride and go and find your husband.
Going over to your wardrobe you pulled down the wooden box that sat on the top shelf, opening it you pulled out a blue soft rabbit and placed it under your arm before moving the box onto the hardwood flooring.
Tiptoeing out of your bedroom you made your way down the oak stairs.
You looked around trying to find helmut knowing he hadn’t been to a meeting so he must be at home.
This was the only problem about your house, there were to many rooms to remember when you were little.
Making your way back up the stairs you wandered over to the only other room you could think of, helmut’s study.
You peaked through the crack in the door making sure he wasn’t on the phone before gently pushing it open making the old hinges creek making you cringe.
Looking up from his paperwork the barons eyes softened when they saw it was you, “hello meine Liebe” he smiled pushing out his rolley chair from his desk “hi papa” you said softly paddeling your way over to him.
“Ahh has my little lamb come out to play?” He chuckled reaching his hand out to reach your own “mhm” you mumbled “I’m not disrupting you am I?” “Of course not schön you could never interrupt me” he said softly knowing you were sensitive to noise in this state of mind.
“Papa can I come up please?” You whispered you gestured to his desk chair “of course you can my darling” he cooed helping guide you into a cradling position in his lap.
After placing a kiss to your forehead he rolled the chair in and went back to his work occasionally looking down to make sure you were sound.
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
After a while of working he looked down to see your head resting on his left shoulder, your hand clutching onto his sleeve struggling to keep your eyes open.
“Is my liebling sleepy?” He chuckled bringing his hand down too stroke your palm.
You were too far gone to speak so you just let out a light grumble and nuzzled your face into his soft chest.
Smiling down at you Zemo brushed away a strand of hair that had called down across your face before placing a kiss to your hairline.
“Go to sleep then my love, I’ve got you”
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
Taglist - @bootlegmothman420 @littlephia @whippedforhongjoong @youngstarfishdinosaur @patchesofwork @buggyateabug @autisticbeauty @friendlyneighborhoodkillerbunny @sparklybuck @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @hopelesswritergall @stuckysgirl27 @sleepyprinc3ss @chaotic-little-witch @looksthatkilledd @teddybearsgrr
433 notes · View notes
addict-rat · 11 months
Text
Your Eyes Betray You
Tumblr media
Summary: You have a rivalry with Zemo and his team, but you also have mixed feelings with him, in one mission you both finally end up saying what you feel and more.
Words count: 2880
Paring: Helmut Zemo x F!Reader
Warnings: +18 Explict, swering, very poorly written smut, wall sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v. 
Author’s note: Buenas, I just want to say a few things, frist this is my frist smut written in english, that leads to the second thing english not my first language I know a bit of the language but still learning so I used a translator from time to time if you see a mistake in the grammar or in general please let me know, I accept criticism but I don’t tolerate hate comments or similar. I probably gonna write more fanficons so I accept request in the future and I in the process of writing a Namor fanfic x!Reader. Gracias enjoy the fic :D
My masterlist.  
Tumblr media
Your career as a government agent was going pretty well. Not long ago you had been promoted to a position now you have your own team of agents to lead although you still had to follow orders from your superior, Secretary Ross. you could say that you had done everything to be where you were now, and you knew that one day you would be in a higher position than the one you were currently in, you worked hard to have a record of success in most of your missions, that was one of the reasons why you were given this position, however everything changed when you met your now "enemies" the Thunderbolts.
Thunderbolts was a team similar to yours except they had two supersoldiers, Ava Starr better known as Phantom, Justin Hammer and criminal mastermind who more than once could take you down. While your team was not bad, the problem was that it turns out you were not the best person to lead, since most of your life you had and preferred to work on your own.
Valentina and Ross were on the same path, therefore Thunderbolts and your team ended up on the same mission so you saw them very often, they were a headache for you because you knew you had a half chance of succeeding in the mission and a half chance of losing because of them.
Everyone already knew each other, it was like seeing co-workers who had been together for many years, but as team leader you knew all the opposing team better, especially their leader.
Helmut Zemo.
Being both team leaders you had faced him before, at first you could say you had no opinion of him, after meeting him on a mission where you lost, you began to hate him especially when you realized how much you found yourself thinking about him, you were not going to admit the obvious you had to stay focused on what mattered.
                                                             You weren't a fan of missions that involved having to infiltrate parties and looking like you were enjoying being there, usually these types of missions you would send someone from your team, but this time you had to go, so there you were finishing your fifth drink. You were waiting for the host of the party to come out of his office so you could go and get some files that could put a big f behind bars, you heard in one of your headphones that he had already left his office and that you could move on, so you preferred to go and finish the mission instead of having your sixth drink, you walked straight to where there was a crowd of people dancing.
Tumblr media
"I thought you didn't like these kinds of events" you pulled away a little when you saw how close you were to him "I don't I'm here beacuse of work, look like you a really having fun" you said in a mocking tone "I'm here beacuse of work too and your distracting me, can you even fight in that? "You tried to ignore the previous comment even though you still felt that feeling that had become recurrent in your stomach and you knew that he was the reason for your behavior. Your thoughts left you when you heard one of your colleagues telling you to hurry before he went back to his office "I don't have time for this and yes I can fight in this" you said walking to where you should have been a few minutes ago.
You felt someone pulling you by your arm so hard that you ended up glued to the body of the man who had pulled you, obviously it had to be the last person you wanted to see here and who in fact you were expecting to see.
The mansion you were in was so ridiculously big that it took you a little longer to get there, in some corridors there were people around so you had to find another way or wait for them to leave. You were a little more relieved that you were so close, you just had to look for the files and leave being as cautious as possible. Already in front of the door you looked to the sides before placing your hand on the door handle but before you could open the door, you were a little scared since no one had warned you that someone was already inside but your concern was gone when you saw Zemo in the door frame, the two looked at each other for a few minutes, you still did not understand how he had arrived so fast.
"If you are looking for the same as me, good luck, I doubt you will find a copy" whenever he was in advantage or beat you he always put that mocking smile, you saw him walking away while you doubted if you were really looking for the same or were different motives of the mission, but still you went after him, you approached him and he stopped walking when you reached him "Do you really want took me into a fight in that dress?" he asked this time looking at you again from head to toe "Do you want to try me? Baron" he approached you, cornering you in the wall "Do you know I love when you use my title?" you were going to answer him but you both became alert when you heard footsteps and you heard your team warning you that someone was coming in the corridor, obviously it was going to be suspicious to see you two standing near the office and there was no time to go anywhere else.
You grabbed Zemo by his coat and pulled him closer to you, you whispered an almost inaudible "sorry" before you started kissing him, obviously nobody was going to suspect two lovers looking for a place to be alone, at first Zemo was a little astonished he didn't expect you to do that, but he understood that it was to cover the two of you and not to raise suspicions, so he didn't let go of you, his leg got between yours applying some pressure, which made you moan in the kiss, he took the opportunity to dominate more the kiss and taste inside you, you didn't want to admit it but it was the first time you had been kissed so well.
You remembered that this was your chance to look for the files in his coat, your hands traveled through Zemo's coat, trying to find the files but he noticed what you were doing, he took your hands and slammed them against the wall, pulling something out of you between a sigh and a moan, something you were going to regret later "You like that don't you? You like it when someone else takes control" He said close to your lips, you started to move your hips a little on the leg he had between yours, you did it by mere instinct you hadn't even noticed, " Egear are we? " He murmured as he left a path of kisses from your jaw to your neck, you let out a gasp as you felt his wet kisses, your weak legs brought you back to reality and you saw that there was no one but the two of you in the hallway "T- they're already gone" Zemo let go of your wrists "Yes, I know they left like two minutes ago" he left a kiss on your cheek "Looking for this, Draga? "He took out a small usb from his coat and put it back almost immediately, while you were still stunned and bewildered by what had just happened a few seconds ago.
You followed him down another corridor when you had already put your feet on the ground again, when you got to the corner where he had crossed he was not there, you looked around, but it was useless, there was no one there, you walked back from where you came but you saw from afar that a group of people were coming and you saw that from the other side of the corridor as well. For a moment you were paralyzed, but they dragged you to another small room, that looked like a cellar or something similar, the room was only illuminated by the small lines of the shutter that almost completely covered the window of the door.
"What..."
You couldn't finish.
"Shhh."
"Don't shhh to me"
He put his hand on your mouth "Shhhh" you heard murmurs that were going to close where you were, you did not pay attention to what they were talking, you were more focused on watching him even with the little light that came from the hallway, his dark eyes staring at the door where he had you nailed, you saw how he frowned to concentrate on what the other people were talking, his dark hair well combed and how soft it seemed to be, you wanted to pass your hand touching him.
"Enjoying the view?" He ask with that cooky smirt and removed his hand from your mouth "I do, although I preferred the way you looked in the hallway" he tilt his head, his hands went to your hips "You didn't look at me like you hated me... but you don't, do you? Well you did at first, but then you pretended to" Your eyes widened in amazement, after all this time you were still impressed by how capable he was of reading you despite how good you were at pretending.
"Your eyes, your eyes betrayed you" he replied as if he knew what you were going to ask, it was no secret that he no longer saw you as if his gaze could kill you, at first he detested you especially you being the one who had beaten him a few times, but that had been a long time ago.
Your lips approached his, when it finally looked like your lips were about to touch his, he moved a few inches away from you "Tell me what do you want, darling?" You bite your lip, his hand slowly went down to the hem of your dress, caressing your thighs under your dress "Please, please Helmut... Touch me, make me yours please fuck me please" you begged pathetically for the other man to touch you, you never thought you would beg like that for anyone ever in your life, but for him, you didn't mind doing it.
This time it was his lips that found you and he drank you in almost the same way he had done in the past kiss, his kisses went down to your neck and his hands this time went up your dress to your waist and into your panties playing with the now wet fabric, you were about to beg for more, when you heard the rustle of the fabric tearing, You gave a gasp of astonishment that quickly turned into a more erotic one as you felt his fingers in your wet folds "You won't need these" he said finishing removing your panties "You already so wet for me" one of his hands took your leg to lift it a little, your fingernails dug into his shoulders to steady you.
"Don't stop Zemo ples...Ah" Two of his long and thick fingers penetrated into your wet cunt, his fingers curled in that place that made you forget where you were. "Ah" you moaned loudly feeling how his fingers stretched you and at the same time his thumb started massaging circles in your clit. You began to feel that sensation in your belly that indicated your orgasm was beginning to form, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders. His lips so close to yours that you could feel his breaths heaving and he could feel your gasps and moans.
"Zemo... I..." His lips caught your lips in a kiss before you could raise your voice any more, you heard footsteps and murmurs outside, across the hall but they gradually receded. "You have to be a little more quite, my love... As much I would love to hear you, we can't let anyone hear us, do you understand?" Zemo asked you shortly after you came down from your state of pleasure. "Yes, Baron" you said he kissed you again, this time a little shorter "Good girl" you were surprised when he turned and your face pressed into the door, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling as well as the zipper of his pants, one of his hands was on your hip gripping you tightly then you were to find the bruise in the shape of his hand on your hip, with his other hand he said the tip of his cock was moving in your wet folds "Stop teasing me, baron please" a choked moan came from your lips as you felt him slowly penetrate you, it was much bigger than you had thought, your count trembling with the strecht as inch after inch.
You both let out a sigh when he fully stettled, both of his hands on your hips "Fuck, you're so thigt" He whisper in your ear leaving a path of kisses and hickeys in your neck, you moved your head to the side leaving him more space, you let out a loud moan when you felt his teeth penetrating the skin between your neck and shoulder "Oh! Don't mark me you possesive... Oh fuck" you whimper when you felt how he came out completely and penetrated you again in a single movement, his nails dug into your hips while he came out and entered you in a constant pace, Zemo grabbed you by the neck turning your head so he could kiss you, his kisses were hungry, a little violent, you tried to follow the same rhythm as him returning him with kisses full of lust and needy, you didn't separate until you were both out of breath, a loud moan came from your lips when he hit that place that left you wanting more, your back arched and he noticed it by the way your legs weakened and by the way your walls squeezed his cock, his pace this time faster hitting that sweet place. Even though you wanted to be quiet because you were not exactly alone, anyone could pass through the hallway and hear you, but Zemo made it difficult for you to be quiet, his arm grabbed your hips while the other one massaged your clitoris, a gasp escaped your lips from the pleasure he was giving you, it wasn't a few minutes later when you felt your second orgasm come again.
"I'm so close... I'm gonna come" you let out a loud moan "Come for my draga" he grabbed your neck bringing your head to his shoulder, he applied a little pressure to your neck, which brought you to your second orgasm with a sigh and a gasping moan, Zemo waited until your breathing was no longer so agitated and came back with the same pace he had before. You felt his seed fill you deep inside your walls, you heard profanities between Sokovian and Ingles in between cut off by his agitated breathing.
After a few minutes you both had come down from your euphoria, you felt Zemo's lips on your bare shoulder, his short but affectionate kisses were going up to your cheek, his hand grabbed your jaw returning it to his face leaving a soft and affectionate kiss on your lips, you kissed him back, you let out a whimper in the middle of the kiss when he came out of you, you felt his semen going down your thighs "We could have had fun a long time ago... you know it was much better than I had fantasized..." you weren't going to admit that you had also dated him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud at least not today. you know it was much better than I had fantasized" you weren't going to admit that you had also fooled around with him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud to him at least not today. You both began to arrange yourselves to hide any kind of evidence. You looked for your panties on the floor, when you found them they were torn "Great, now I have to go back without underwear thanks Zemo" you said showing him your ruined panties, Zemo took them out of your hands and put them in his coat "I will buy you new ones, and next time I won't tear them" you both left the room and walked down the hall "So now we will do this on every mission we see each other" You smirk devilish "I can't promise you that I won't, but I'd prefer it to be somewhere more private" they both laughed a little "What a strange way to propose a date but ok I'll take it" they both headed for the exit and went their separate ways to where each team was waiting for them, and there Zemo noticed that you had removed the usb.
183 notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 1 year
Text
Day 23: Hate Fucking - Helmut Zemo
Tumblr media
Kinktober Day 23: Hate Fucking - Helmut Zemo x f!reader
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, set during tfatws, enemies to fuck buddies, making out, quickie, wall sex, biting, marking, size kink, kitchen sex, creampie,  nicknames, no use of y/n
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link
Tumblr media
His presence had been a pain in your ass for the entire mission. In fact, you couldn’t help but complain about him constantly since the second Bucky had broken him out of prison, nearly walking away from the entire situation as Zemo strolled through the door.
A small part of you understood why he was needed but by god, he was making it difficult with his condescending, manipulative, self-righteous arrogance constantly being a thorn in your side, there was only so far you could be pushed.
“You’re not leaving me with him!” you argued, trying to block the exit.
“Sorry kid, you know we need someone to keep an eye on him” Bucky tried to reason, sighing as you wouldn’t move out of his way.
“Then I’ll go with Sam! Just don’t leave me with him, I can’t be held accountable for my actions if I’m left alone with him” you tried to bargain but you knew it was a waste of time.
“I also do not need a babysitter James” Zemo pipped up from where he sat reading his book, lounging on the couch.
You and Bucky gave him a pointed look, he did of course need someone looking after him, he was a fugitive after all.
“Listen, we won’t be away for long, just sit a few feet away from each other and you’ll be fine” Bucky squeezed your shoulder once more gently moving you away from the door, walking out without looking back, not giving you the chance to argue back.
Turning on the spot you began to open your mouth to argue with Sam but he gave you a sympathetic smile, “sorry kid, we won’t be long, try not to kill each other until we’re back”. He too left, locking the door behind him leaving you alone with Helmut who didn’t seem phased by the situation but you knew he was just as angered as you were.
You weren’t subtle with your movements, stomping with heavy feet over to the armchair, not caring that you looked childish in any way, fed up that you were being left behind once again in the mission to do the job that held no value.
Scrolling through your phone, you become easily lost in tik toks, helping the time to pass and trying not to laugh as each video scrolled by, trying to keep the scowl on your face just in case Zemo looked over, not quite caring in the pettiness you were displaying.
A sudden movement out of the corner of your peripheral vision had you sitting bolt upright, reaching for the gun that was strapped tightly to the holster of your thigh, pointing it in Zemo’s direction as he gently stood.
Lazily holding his hands up, he continued walking, not phased at all by your threat. “Easy dragă, I’m just going to use the bathroom”. Taking a second to determine whether you believed him, you finally relaxed your stance.
“Don’t call me that” you mumbled, slotting the gun back into its place and watching with keen eyes as he moved to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
Your eyes then shifted towards your phone timer, watching as it ticked by, with each passing minute, your stomach churned in anticipation. When it had officially been 10 minutes, you were striding towards the door, banging heavily against the wood with your fist.
Zemo opened the door instantly, a smirk teasing you on his face like he had been waiting for you to do this, testing to see how long it would take you.
“I’m not going anywhere dragă, you really need to relax” the Baron leant against the doorframe, crossing his arms as his eyes travelled up and down your form.
“Not so easy to do with such an arrogant prick in the room”.
Helmut’s smirk shifted to a smile, “you seem awfully pent up”.
The way he was staring at you had your insides twisting but you weren’t sure in what way, feeling unnerved you began to step away, muttering, “whatever Helmut”. However, a firm grip around your arm stopped your movements, spinning you back to look at the Baron. “If you don’t remove yourself from my arm, you’re a dead man Zemo”.
One thing you should have accounted for was his training, forgetting momentarily, not having enough time to dig your heels into the carpet as he was able to shove you back into a nearby wall, lungs being winded by the impact. “What the fuck-”
He was quick, quicker than you had expected him to be as he was able both disarm you, the gun now skidding across the floor, and your arms being pinned to your side.
“No more talking from you” his voice was low, not aggressive like you’d expected it to be compared to his actions, instead it was laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You tried to squeeze out of his grip, knees lifting to kick him but he leaned his weight heavily over you, leaving you momentarily defenceless.
It also meant that he was so close to your face that you could smell his expensive aftershave, citrusy with a hint of smoke. “Why do you fight me so much dragă?”
His question threw you through a loop, confusion settling across your expression, eyes dropping to watch his lips as he spoke but that was only due to the close proximity. “You know why I hate you Zemo, that’s no fucking reason to slam me against the wall”.
Helmut chuckled darkly, his own eyes searching over your face, “oh I have every reason to slam you into the wall dragă”. Before your brain could overthink his works, and understand the connotations behind his emphasis, Zemo dipped his head, lips lazily connecting with yours.
Initially, you were too shocked to turn your face away, eyes wide as you could feel the scratch of his facial hair against the softness of your cheeks. The man holding you close shifted back an inch, eyes darting between yours trying to gauge your reaction.
You couldn’t even think, not with your head anyway as a deep ache began to radiate between your legs so as his face hovered close to yours, you moved first.
The kiss was chaotic, with no rhythme just licking, pulling lips with teeth, both trying to frantically kiss the other harder, not being able to move quick enough, heads tilting from side to side as his hands finally released their grip on your arms, giving you the freedom, to pull his jumper, chest bumping harder against yours.
You’d not even realised just how pent up you truly were as a strong thigh pushed between your legs leaving your cunt grinding down on the muscle, mouth opening in a quick gasp before it was swallowed up by Helmut’s tongue dancing with your own.
Zemo seemed to be moving with just as much passion and ferocity as his hands dropped to the zipper of your jeans, you wanted this, want to get rid of some of that tension before you exploded. Releasing the grip on his jumper, your hands mirrored his, gripping his belt and hastily undoing it but not as smoothly as his, your hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline.
“Fuck” you grunted as your jeans were harshly pulled down with your underwear to your knees and before you could do the same to him, your body was being turned, face now being pushed up against the cool wall, hips being jutted out slightly.
“Hurry up” he couldn’t have moved any quicker if he tried as he pulled out his cock, you couldn’t even see it over your shoulder from the positioning, only realising he had even released himself when his lips attached to your ear lobe and the hard press of his tip moved against your cunt.
Zemo swears as he feels how wet you are, only taking a second to compose himself before tilting his hips up. He was bigger than you had expected, your pussy trembling with the stretch as inch after inch delved deeper. He was moving too slow so with a grunt you pushed your hips backwards, taking the remainder of his cock causing you both to shudder, you felt so full but you still needed more.
It seemed that Helmut was experiencing as much urgency as he began to fuck you hard, his hand disappearing into your head, tugging back your head to expose your neck giving him the perfect opportunity to bite the junction between neck and shoulder.
“Ah! Don’t fucking mark me you possessive freak” he chuckled, licking over the spot that he had just bit to soothe the skin before putting all of his energy to thrust deeper and harder, your face aching from the impact of your body being pushed forward but you didn’t care, finding some sick joy in the mixture of pleasure and pain.
His lips were back teasing the shell of your ear, “you should stop fighting me all the time, we could have such great fun”.
“Shut up and fuck me, Zemo”.
Saying his name seemed to snap something within him, his cock pulling all the way out leaving you feeling oddly empty before he was dragging you over the island in the middle of the kitchen, not without its difficulties with your jeans halfway down your legs.
Just as you felt like you were about to fall on your face, you found yourself being pushed until your front was against the marble countertop and before you could react, Zemo was fucking you again. His grip on your hips was harsh enough that you knew they would be bruises later but you didn’t care, mouth gaping open releasing a steady stream of moans.
His thrusts were hitting you so deep, stroking against all of the beautiful spots within, your juices coating him, causing each thrust to squelch. You felt it now, Zemo moving so quickly that you didn’t have time to dwell in that blissful build-up, it was simply just there tight and arousing and then you were cuming, hard, walls fluttering around his cock.
The tight grip your cunt had on him was nearly overwhelming for the Baron as his thrusts faltered and he too was cuming, coating you with every ounce of cum that he had in his tightened balls. His seed spilt out of you, dripping down your thighs as he all but collapse against your back.
It didn’t take long for him to recover, however, silently easing his cock out and walking away without another word but you were fine with that, rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself. It also took longer than you expected as you had to wash your face repeatedly to try and get the glazed “I’ve just been fucked” expression off of your face.
Re-entering the main room, you noted that Zemo had returned to the couch, reading the same book as before acting like nothing had even happened so you sat as well, trying not to glance at him every few seconds, mind both overthinking and blank at the same time, the only sign that something had actually happened was the slight pulsing still tingling in your cunt.
Only a few moments later the front door was unlocking, and Sam and Bucky returned from wherever they had visited.
“Good to see you two haven’t killed each other” Bucky commented, dropping into the chair adjacent to yours.
“I can be good sometimes, Barnes” you retorted, noticing the slight smirk on Zemo’s lips.
701 notes · View notes