#(but ALSO Bucky's outstretched fingers have me that way too)

[ex0rin]

me, desperately trying to focus on Bucky reaching for Walker's gun while making this gif:

also me: 🍑🍑🍑

[spideykaiparker]

Misleading Folders

Peter Parker x Avenger!reader

warning(s) : slight smut, fluff

summary : you like to record peter being cute, one day while you were recording him, he decided to... spice things up a little bit. flash forward to next week, the avengers finds a folder on your phone curiously going through it, leading to them finding a video that made them regret ever being curious.

author's note : I'm not confident about this:/ english is not my first language, sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes.

happy reading ^_^

school was exhausting. you and peter had just gotten back from school, and now both of you were hanging out in his room in the avengers compound. right after you arrived at his room, you immediately throw yourself on the bed, glad that school was over for the day.

"ugh.. your bed is so comfortable, why isn't mine like this?" you groaned out, jealous by the comfort of peter's bed.

"um.. i think all of the beds here are the same, maybe you feel that way because it has my scent?" peter suggested with a shrug.

"hm, maybe, guess I'm just going to sleep here then"

"oh please, you already sleep here all the time, you basically already moved into my room" peter said, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face indicates that he's not at all annoyed with you.

it's true, you stay in his room all the time, except when peter's not there at the moment, you hang out in your room.

you sat up against the headboard, playing with your phone, crossing your legs. while peter laid down horizontally on the edge of the bed, reading a book.

you both sat there for about 10 minutes, until you opened your legs, with your knees bent, and saw peter, reading his book, with his hands up holding the book, his lips caught between his teeth as he read the book with utter concentration.

you opened your camera app, recording him, because you think he looked cute, you take videos of him acting cute all the time, hell, you even have a folder for the videos.

"peter" you called, smiling

"yeah?" he looked to the side, to find you recording him, a smile of his own immediately morphing on his face.

"hi"

"hi" he answered with a slight laugh.

"what are you reading?"

"i don't know, just this book i found in the library, its kinda interesting"

suddenly, an idea popped up in his head. looking at you from in between your legs, with you recording him, made him think of several different things.

he slightly reached up and grabbed your shorts, pulling it down your legs with your underwear also coming off.

"wha—" you start, shocked by his sudden action.

"relax, we don't have to do anything, just keep talking, don't mind me" he cuts. his fingers slowly going up and down your slit, going up to your sensitive bud, circling two of his fingers on it.

"did me recording you, made you horny?" you asked, slightly amused.

"well partly, it's mostly because I've been thinking about you all day, wearing that short shorts of yours, and looking at you from between your legs also is one the reason" he simply replied.

"awee, you're wet already? you like it too don't you? you like recording me playing with your pretty pussy, huh?" he murmured.

his fingers came down to your slit, collecting the wetness that has gathered down there, then made its way back up to circle around the sensitive bud once again, but this time sliding much easier with your wetness.

your moans got louder as he pushed two of his fingers into your heat. he slowly thrusted his fingers inside of you, gradually getting faster with each thrust. his thumb going up to rub your abandoned clit.

"you like that?" he asks, smirking to the camera.

"a-ah... yes"

suddenly he pushed himself upwards towards you, burying his face between your thighs, planting his lips on your swollen bud, fingers still thrusting roughly inside of you while his free arm wraps around one of your thigh.

shocked by his actions, you dropped your phone on the bed facing upwards, the phone still recording, but can't see any of the actions happening.

"ah!— peter!" throwing your head back, you buried one of your hand in his curls, while the other gripped the sheets.

your hips bucking up to his face, so much that he has to grip your hips to stay put. you kept thrashing around, moaning louder and louder as time passes by.

his tongue plunges itself inside of you alongside of his fingers, thrusting at a harsh pace. his fingers sometimes coming up to play with your clit.

you could feel your orgasm coming soon, your stomach tightens, heat building up, you clench around his fingers, signaling him that you're close.

"ah— i'm cumming" you helplessly moaned out, your grip on his hair tightening.

"cum for me, baby" he groaned out, in between of his actions.

and with that you let go, gripping his hair tightly, throwing your head back, moaning out loud, couldn't care less about the possibility of people being able to hear you.

peter continues to lap up your heat, helping you through your orgasm, your body convulsing because of his actions.

when you were done, peter moved upwards, hovering over you with a smile on his face. his hands coming up to gently push away the hair that was sticking to your face due to the sweat.

looking up through your lashes, you pushed yourself up, hands coming around the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly to connect both of your lips.

his lips mold perfectly against yours, kissing you at a slow pace, pouring all of his emotions through the kiss.

suddenly you remembered something, "the camera" you said, pulling away from him. you reached out your hands, searching for your phone, eventually finding it, you pointed it towards peter.

"say byee~"

"byee~" he said while shaking his head, laughing. you ended the recording, putting your phone on the bedside table, then slowly reaching out for peter once again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"c'mon let's go shower" he said, pulling away from you, sitting on his knees.

"but you're still hard" you pointed out, reaching your hand to cup his hard on, to which he moaned to.

"you can help me in the shower" he suggested, smirking at you.

"fine..." you replied, rolling your eyes, but your lips curved up to a smile.

pulling you up from the bed, he lead you to the bathroom to continue your activities earlier.

~

the week goes by, the avengers were going to have a movie night. now you were just preparing everything because it was your turn to pick the movie.

everyone was just lounging around on the couches in the common room, when suddenly Tony remembered something.

"hey Y/N can you send me the pictures we took yesterday?" he asked, slightly throwing his head back on the couch to look at you who was preparing the popcorns.

"yeah sure, here's my phone," you gave him your phone which was in your pocket, opening it beforehand so that he could use it, "you can send it yourself" you said absentmindedly, not really thinking about it too much.

grabbing the phone, he searches through your gallery, coming upon a folder labeled petey♡. curious, he opened the folder, seeing a bunch of pictures and videos of you and peter.

smiling, he opened the most recent video, it was a video of you and peter walking down the street, with peter's arm around your neck, holding you close, and your face slightly smushed into his chest, one of your arm holding on to the arm that was wrapped around your neck and the other wrapped around his waist, while you both kept walking. you were both laughing in the video looking completely in love.

while Tony was watching the video, the other members were slightly curious to what Tony was watching, one by one, they gathered around him peering into the phone, also watching the video. they all awed when they saw what Tony was watching, they thought that you two looked absolutely cute together, that you were meant to be. well maybe except sam and bucky, but even they had to admit, you two were disgustingly cute.

when the video ended, Tony slides to the next video, which was a video of you and peter cuddling on his bed, peter was half asleep while you were awake, with peter basically laying on top of you, resting his head on your chest, facing the camera, one of your arm wrapped around his neck while the other was outstretched, holding your phone, recording you both.

"c'mon peter, we gotta wake up" you said smiling, slightly shaking him.

"mm..5 more minutes.." he groggily answered, nuzzling his face into your chest.

"you said that 10 minutes ago" you deadpanned, rolling your eyes, but the smile was still etched on your face.

"mm.."

"i have a class at 9, pete" you sighed.

"don't go.." he whined back, slowly gaining consciousness.

"i have to, pete"

"no you don't have to, you can just stay here and cuddle with me" he murmured, a pout forming on his lips, tightening his hold on you as if he's afraid you're going to leave him.

"i promise I'll go straight home as soon as my classes are over" you explained, slowly pushing away from him, to which he whined, drawing you back.

"no~" he whined, when you finally got out of his grip, turning onto his back.

"I'll be back as soon as possible, okay?" you kissed his forehead. and with that the video ended.

the avengers cooed as they watched the soft moment, they all agreed that you guys were soulmates, completely in love with each other, being each others other half. it's funny seeing peter being so clingy with you, because usually peter was shy little bean with the avengers, though he opened up more little by little but not as much as he is with you.

tony swipes to the next item, it was a picture of the both of you sleeping on the couch while cuddling, you were laying your head on peter's chest, your arms wrapped around his torso, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while both of your legs tangled below, a blanket covering the both of you.

the picture was taken by MJ, when you were supposed to have a sleepover with Ned and MJ, but ended up sleeping halfway through the movie. the next morning MJ showed you the picture, you told MJ to send it to you, to add to your collection of cute moments.

once again, they all awed at the picture, you both looked content with each other, holding onto each other like you're both afraid one of you is going to disappear.

then Tony swipes to the next item, it was the video from last week, when peter decided to... spice it up a little. at first, the video looked normal, you were just recording peter, who was reading, from between your legs because that's where you can see his face.

"peter" you called out from the video.

"yeah?" he looked to the side, a smile immediately morphing on his lips when he saw that you were recording him while smiling.

"hi"

"hi" he answered with a slight laugh, smiling widely.

"what are you reading?"

"i don't know, just this book i found in the library, its kinda interesting"

then peter had this... look on his face, suddenly he reached up, grabbing your shorts, pulling it down with your underwear.

"WOAH" nearly all of them screamed

"wha—" you said from the video

almost immediately, Tony slammed the phone face down his lap, the video still playing, so they could hear what's happening in the video.

"relax, we don't have to do anything, just keep talking, don't mind me" peter's slightly deeper voice ranged out.

the avengers were— to say the least, very surprised, they looked at each other with shock clearly written on their faces. they didn't think that the shy innocent looking peter would turned out to be very dirty.

they weren't paying much attention now, too shocked by the new piece of information. their attention snapped back to the video when they heard peter again.

"awee, you're wet already? you like it too don't you? you like recording me playing with your pretty pussy, huh?" they heard him murmur.

they couldn't believe it, peter parker, the guy who blushes at just a mention of a kiss, the guy who gets shy with even the slightest display of affection with you, is actually really dirty.

you started to let out quiet moans, gradually getting louder, the sounds of his slick finger playing with your heat, getting louder and louder.

"—oh my god, turn it off!"

immediately Tony flipped the phone to turn off the video, getting a glimpse of peter moving to bury his face in your heat.

"ah!— peter!" then he immediately turned off the video.

when the video was finally turned off, they all looked at each other with wide eyes, choosing to not say anything to each other for a while to avoid making it even more awkward.

"um... should we talk to them?"

"ew, why?" sam said with disgust, wishing to burn the image of you and peter from his mind.

"i think we should" natasha spoke up.

"yeah, i think so too, i mean, we didn't even know they were sexually active until now, we should at least tell them to be safe" steve said with his arms crossed, looking at everyone.

"yeah okay, at least i can tease him with it now" bucky said with a cheeky smirk.

"well that's settled, let's wait 'til they get back from getting the popcorns" rhodey suggested.

~

not long after that... incident, you and peter came back from the kitchen bringing 4 bowls of popcorn, handing it to the other members on the couch.

"alright, now I've decided that we will watch—" you started but got cut off by Tony.

"wait, actually we have something we want to talk to you about" he holds up his hand, cutting you off. "both of you"

"okay..." you and peter slowly sat down on the couch, looking warily to each other.

"what's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"well, you know how i was going to send the pictures from yesterday from your phone?" Tony starts.

"yeah..."

"well i happened to stumble upon an interesting folder" you froze, your eyes widening almost immediately when you heard him.

"yeah..." you let out with a nervous chuckle.

now peter was confused, what were you talking about? why did you suddenly froze? is there something in that fol— his eyes widened, suddenly remembering the video you took last week, his cheeks redden from his thoughts.

"well we found an interesting video there"

"wait— we?" you sputter out. wishing to bury yourself in the ground so you don't have to face this.

"yes we, at first we thought that it was just videos of you guys being cute, but then..." he trailed off.

you both are frozen now, too embarrassed to do anything. already knowing which video he's talking about.

"judging by your reactions, i assume you both already know what video I'm talking about"

"yeah..." you both meekly answered.

"i mean I'm not judging, you guys can do whatever you want, but i just have one question"

"what is it?" peter asked weakly.

"are you guys being safe?"

"oh my god! of course! okay, first of all, i don't want to have this talk with you guys, okay? we already got it from aunt may, we don't need it from you guys, and besides, we're both 19, we know what to do, you don't have to worry okay? we're being safe. and second of all, why would you go through my folders! i just told you to send the pictures from yesterday" you answered, still embarrassed.

"we were curious okay? you guys are so cute together" wanda answered.

"but still!—" you start but got cut off by Tony

"—okay okay! we're not going to give you the talk, you guys are old enough already, plus it's kind of weird giving you the talk, and we're sorry for going through your folders" Tony shuddered just by thinking about it.

"but peter, i didn't know you were wild, man" sam teased with a smirk on his face.

"ugh.. shut up" peter answered, hiding his face behind your shoulder.

"no, but seriously though, we thought you were just an innocent little bean, but little did we know..." bucky trailed off, a smirk also evident on his face.

"stoooop" he's hiding his entire body behind you now. you laughed, bringing him from behind you, wrapping your arms around him, his face buried in your neck.

"great! now that that's settled, can we continue movie night now?" rhodey spoke up.

you all agreed, turning on the movie of your choice, then each of you settling in comfortable positions.

you obviously cuddled with peter, a blanket draped over both of you, your head resting on his chest, arms wrapped around him tightly, peter's arm wrapped around your shoulder.

halfway through the movie, you saw that peter was slightly dozing off, so you decided to head up with peter.

"hey, we're heading up first okay? —c'mon pete" you said while pulling him up.

"use protection!" bucky shouted from the couch as you and peter went down the hallway.

"shut up!" you grumbled back.

the rest of the team just laughed then continued watching the movie while you and peter continued your way to his room.

[nev3rfound]

glass : b.b

after a messy breakup with your boyfriend, you can’t help but be a tad bit reckless during a mission leaving bucky to help pick up the pieces and learn why you’re acting the way you are. (2.5k) 

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, wounds, breakups 

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

also hi, we’re almost at 5k which is amazing and i’m planning a little giveaway! sorry if i’ve been quiet this week, i have been hooked with the ‘shatter me’ series and i can’t get enough lmao. but i do have more pieces in the works :)

Sitting in the Quinjet, you could barely register what Tony was saying as the words that were practically spat at you last night circulated your thoughts.

“Y/n?” You flinch at the call of your name, breaking you from the trance-like state you were in.

Steve smiles warmly as he takes the seat beside you as prying eyes watch closely, noting the change in your mood the moment you boarded the jet.

“Sorry,” You mutter to Steve. “late night.”

Nodding in response, Steve glances over to a concerned Bucky whose brows remain knitted together. Usually, you would sit with Bucky, joke around with him and Sam about all sorts. Yet today, you boarded the jet and sat alone, closing your eyes and blocked everyone out.

“Tell me ‘bout it.” Steve playfully huffs, trying to incite some form of reaction, but you remain silent. “Listen, if you wanna talk,”

“Thanks, Steve.” You cut him off, forcing your lips upward. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

With that being his cue to leave you be, Steve shakes his head to Bucky as he wanders back toward Tony, organising the final details of the plan before you land.

“Okay team, descending now, arriving in less than ten.” Tony announces, ensuring he has everyone's attention- including yours. “So, Cap, you and Romanoff will head straight for the side entrance whilst Wilson and Barnes take the back. I want Y/L/N and Barton to head for the hostages.” Tony explains, watching as you all nod along.

“And what will you be doing, Tony?” Steve asks as he picks his shield up.

“I will be with Wanda,” Tony states as Wanda playfully salutes. “on standby in case something goes wrong.”

“Not that it will.” Wanda comments but quirks a brow to Sam who holds his hands up in defence.

“That was a one-time thing, witchy.” Sam retorts, causing Tony to roll his eyes once again at the team's antics.

“Anyway, get ready.” Tony finishes before retreating toward the pilot whilst everyone gathers their weapons.

Whilst grabbing your gun and placing it into your holster, you notice the small bruise forming on your wrist as your sleeve rises slightly. You quickly tug on it, thinking nothing of it as you reach for the set of knives you usually carry.

Yet Bucky noticed, it was impossible for Bucky to not notice the smallest of details about you. His heart ached at the sight. You’re known for being clumsy and would often laugh about the matter. If you got a bruise, you’d joke about it, explain how this one happened in another idiotic motion as opposed to hiding it.

“You ready for this one, Y/n?” Clint speaks up as he appears by your side, counting his arrows as you tighten your grip on your favourite knife, causing your knuckles to lighten in colour.

“As I’ll ever be.” You remark as the Quinjet door opens and you all walk out, splitting up into different directions.

*

It wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t prepared enough as a team for what you encountered inside the building.

You reached the hostages and quickly untied them. They thanked you senselessly whilst Clint remained on guard, keeping a close eye on the door as you helped them to their feet.

“Who are you?” One man speaks up, his voice hoarse as he grips your arms for dear life.

“We’re the Avengers.” You softly tell the man, watching as the fear in his expression lightens, and he starts to laugh maniacally in your face.

Trying to prise yourself from his grasp, his nails dig into your skin. “You made a mistake coming here.” He states, breaking his gaze from you momentarily, giving you a chance to slam your foot into his.

With the man's grip easing, you snap yourself from his embrace and hit him with the butt of your gun. He falls to the ground, and you raise your gun to everyone else in the room.

“Who else is a plant?” You ask, looking at all of the terrified faces staring back at you. “Who else?!” You repeat yourself, adrenaline rushing through you before you fire your gun into the ceiling as they all jump.

Clint whips his head around, evidently shocked having never seen you react this way before. “Y/n,” He speaks up, but you ignore him, keeping your attention fixated on the ‘hostages’ before you.

“No one, Ma’am.” A little girl announces as she releases her mother's hand, stepping toward you. She looks up at you with her bright brown eyes and holds her hand out. “Are you here to save us?” She questions.

Kneeling down in front of the girl, you smile softly, your cool exterior melting. “Yes, and you’re all going to be okay, I promise.” You tell her, breaking your gaze as you look around at everyone else.

“Y/n, now.” Clint states as you rise to your feet, holding your hand out to the little girl who gladly accepts.

“Okay, follow me, you’ll all be safe if you stay close.” You explain to the dozen hostages who huddle together, following behind you and Clint.

“Tony? We have them, there was a plant, tell the others.” Clint speaks through the comms as he walks ahead, his bow at the ready in case anyone else lingers in the corridors.

Glancing over your shoulder, you check to ensure the hostages are still with you. Whilst your head is turned, you hear Clint groan and fall to the ground with a thud.

“Clint?” You rush forward whilst the hostages remain still. Holding your gun up, you turn the corner, catching sight of a man stood with his gun aimed at Clint’s unconscious body. “Corridor seven, ground floor.” You speak up, hoping someone hears you through the comms.

The man before you smirks as his gun is now aimed at you whilst you mirror his actions, not daring to let your hands shake as his words ring through your ears.

“You really think that’s a wise move?” He asks, removing the safety from his gun.

“I’m not one to go down without a fight.” You state, hearing a collection of footsteps echo behind the man as a glint of metal flashes across your eyes.

The man's focus shifts to behind you, but his gun remains trained to you. “Ah, I see we have a friend.” He chuckles and you can feel your heart rate increasing as the little girl stands by your side.

“She has us.” The girl states, standing tall as the hostages emerge and gather behind you.

Sighing under his breath, the man clicks his tongue. “Well, this is sweet and all, but you’re not making it out of here alive.” He scoffs, lowering his gun to the little girl.

Everything plays too quickly for Bucky’s liking as he runs toward the man, his arms outstretched and fists clenched.

Upon watching the man pull back the trigger, you force the little girl back, feeling the impact of the bullet hit your stomach. Another shot rings through your ears, but you’re already down on the ground, curled up.

Bucky steps over the man's body, not caring to step in the blood that pools around his head as he rushes toward you.

“Hey, doll, stay awake for me, okay?” Bucky pleads, brushing your hair out of your face as he glances down, noticing your fingers are coated in crimson. “Sam, get Tony, now!” He yells, picking you up in his arms as both Steve and Natasha appear, taking in the sight before them.

Bucky looks over to Steve, and he doesn’t need to say anything. “Go, we’ll handle it.” Steve nods to Bucky as you hang in his arms, eyes barely open.

Rushing past the hostages who stare with wide eyes, Bucky keeps his on you. “Come on, Y/n,” Bucky mutters as the cool breeze hits his face, feeling you move in his arms and bury your face into his chest.

“I’m cold,” You mumble tiredly, barely able to keep your eyes open as they droop heavily. “just five minutes.”

“No, don’t you dare,” Bucky firmly tells you as the Quinjet comes into view, the sight of worry evident in Wanda’s expression as she meets Bucky halfway, guiding him into the jet.

“What happened?” Wanda asks as Bucky places you down on the ground, reaching for the medical supplies on board with urgency, ripping out various weapons and mechanical items until he finds some form of bandages.

“She tried to save a little girl,” Bucky sighs as Wanda cradles your head, her fingers hovering over your temples as a red glow forms whilst Bucky applies pressure to the wounds, watching as they soak instantly from your blood. “we, we have to go, now!” He yells to Wanda who barely flinches.

“Tony? Can you handle this?” Wanda questions through the comms.

“Just get Y/n back, we’ll sort this out.” Tony responds, trying to hide the fear in his tone for the younger Avenger, one he can’t help but view as a daughter in many respects.

“She wants to be strong,” Wanda whispers, hearing your thoughts as you drift further and further away from consciousness. “but she’s scared. I, I can hear his voice.” Wanda trails off as Bucky tenses up, knowing exactly who she means.

Bucky can feel his heartbreaking as the Quinjet flies through the air at an accelerated rate back to the compound.

“Oh Y/n, you’ve got so much coming for you,” Bucky takes one of your hands in his, gripping it tightly as he focuses on your face, the light disappearing from your complexion. “don’t go, not now, doll.”

*

Lying in your own bed, you remain in a deep sleep whilst Bucky hovers by your bedside. Ever since you were brought back and cleared, he insisted you’d feel more comfortable in your own room.

“Anything?” Wanda speaks up, peering in your doorway as your chest rises and falls rhythmically. Bucky shakes his head in response, aware of Wanda approaching your bed as she perches on the edge, her fingertips dancing over your head.

Wanda quickly pulls her hand away, the red wisps disappearing as she avoids Bucky’s cold gaze. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Wanda mutters, moving your hair out of your face. “but something happened before the mission, something to do with him.” Wanda sighs. “I just, I can’t tell what it was.” She explains as Bucky keeps a straight face, unable to take his eyes off the various bruises now exposed on your skin, the cuts and scars forming alongside them.

“She’s always been agile on missions, even if she’s clumsy.” Bucky breathes out, uncrossing his arms from his chest. “But she’s careful, she’s always careful.” He repeats to himself, wondering why you’d risk yourself like that when it could’ve been avoided.

“I had to,” You mumble, your eyes now beginning to open as you look up to your two friends, forcing your lips upwards. “did I miss much?”

A chuckle escapes Wanda as she looks over to Bucky, seeing the concern in his face refusing to ease. “I’m sure Bucky will fill you in.” Wanda tells you as she touches your hand before heading to the door. “It’s good to see you awake, Y/n/n.” She smiles at you whilst Bucky slowly moves closer to your bed, his legs leaning against the frame.

“So,” You sigh, still feeling your muscles burning beneath the covers on top of you. “is everyone safe?”

Trying to hold back the scoff building, Bucky simply nods.

“Good,” You nod to yourself, a sense of relief crossing your system. “I’m glad it worked out.”

“Worked out?” Bucky snaps, noting your eyes widening as you struggle to sit upright without wincing. “No, don’t try and move,” His voice softens momentarily, forcing you to remain still. “Y/n, you think almost dying is a mission ‘working out', really?” He huffs loudly.

“Look, the hostages are safe, the team holding them was taken care of so yes, Bucky, I do think it worked out.” You bark back, your tone rising.

“God, you’re an idiot sometimes.” Bucky remarks, turning away from you as you look down at your lap.

“Max said that too,” You mumble.

Turning on his heels, Bucky focuses on you closely. “He said what?”

It was no secret Bucky wasn’t the fondest of your now ex-boyfriend, Max. He tolerated him for your sake, not wanting to lose your best friend in the midst of a relationship. But Max was never the most understanding, and this is just another reason Bucky mentally adds to his list of why Max was a lousy boyfriend.

“Forget it,” You brush it off, refusing to meet Bucky’s cold blue eyes. “it was nothing, I went to get the last of my things the other night and, and we had an argument.”

“What did he say to you, Y/n?” Bucky persists as he now sits down on your bed, his hands remaining in his own lap as you play with yours, fidgeting.

“He said I’m too fragile for my own good,” You admit, hearing his bitter words ringing through your head. “that I’m weak, and I shouldn’t even be an Avenger.”

Bucky can feel his blood boiling, the list in his mind becoming mere shreds of paper as he imagines what he’ll do to Max if he sees him again.

“And maybe I am, he said I’m broken goods,” You add, lifting the sheets from your body to reveal the stitching in your skin where the bullet was. “what difference does one more scar make?”

“You don’t believe him, do you doll?” Bucky asks sadly, afraid he already knows the answer.

Your prolonged silence only causes Bucky’s heart to sink further into his chest.

“Y/n,” Bucky speaks up, taking your hand in his. “you’re not broken goods, you’re not made of glass that shatters easily.” He explains, unable to meet your teary gaze. “You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I’ve ever met, you’re not fragile, doll.” He rubs his thumb over the top of your hand, avoiding the fresh scuffs lacing your knuckles.

“You think so?” You whisper as tears fall down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Now catching your eyes, Bucky smiles softly. “I do, Y/n.” He admits, watching you struggle to shuffle in your bed as you force back a whimper.

Patting the spot beside you, Bucky raises a brow. “Will you stay, Bucky, please?” You whisper, too afraid of your own voice.

“As long as you know you’re worth so much more than him, Y/n, okay?” Bucky asks as he lifts his arm up, wrapping it around you as you curl up into his chest. “You deserve the world, doll.” He mutters, feeling your grip around his waist loosen as your breathing softens. “And I promise to show you someday.”

Bucky brushes his lips across your forehead as light snores leave your lips, unaware of the promise Bucky has made to you and intends to keep it.  

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[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  2/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 4.3K

A/n: Second part of this mini series! inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End 

~*~

“Alright lads, you know the drill. I expect you back on the ship by dusk tomorrow.” The men of the king are more than eager to head to the longboats, wanting nothing more than to satiate their hunger for ale and whores.

The door to the quarters that you and Wanda share gets slowly pushed open, and Tony smiles brightly at you.

“Are you going to be coming ashore with us?” He asks, eyes hopeful. You don’t have it in you to say no, and you also can’t fight the nagging feeling that there’s something waiting for you here.

“Yes, we will. We’re ready now,” You say, smiling at him. He leads you out to the longboat and helps you in. There are a few other cremates already in the boat, waiting to be lowered to the shallow waters below.

You and Wanda sit beside each other, across from the men as they row you to shore.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes asking a question. You incline your head the slightest and she leans forward.

“You’re looking for something,” she whispers. You sigh and shrug weakly. “Something is coming to find me. And I must meet it.” She nods thoughtfully, eyes flashing from you to the docks up ahead.

As soon as the longboat is tied off, men on the shore are hurrying over to you and Wanda to help you both.

You accept the outstretched hand and climb up onto the dock, turning and waiting for Wanda to join you. As she comes up, a man’s hand strays too far south, and she hisses.

You grab him by the wrist, thunder clapping above you as you glare at him.

“You lay another finger on a woman without permission, and you’ll lose your entire hand. That is a promise.” He opens his mouth to make some sort of snarky remark but snaps it closed when he sees the tip of his fingers starting to turn black with the mark of death. He nods quickly and you drop his hand, watching with a stone-cold look on your face as his fingers return to normal.

The group of men who were so willing to help you quickly disperse as they realize that they aren’t going to get what they want from you or from Wanda.

“You ladies feel free to roam. I have no doubt that you can take care of yourselves. If you want to rejoin us, we’ll be leaving at dusk tomorrow.” You’re surprised at the offer, having thought that you and Wanda would have been forced to rejoin them.

“Thank you, Tony. For all you’ve done and for your kindness.” He smiles warmly at you and nods. “It’s nowhere near what you deserve, but it’s the best I could manage.” He offers you a small bow then heads off to drink himself into a coma for the night.

“Well. Shall we explore all that Tortuga has to offer?” You ask, extending your arm to Wanda. She grins and takes your outstretched arm. “We shall.”

~*~

Bucky sits in the pub, eyes roaming around the place for the millionth time as he tries to pinpoint your face amongst those of the strangers in the crowd.

A man plops down beside him, a cup of ale held loosely in his fist and a poisonous grin on his face.

“Barnes, good to see you again.” Bucky hardly glances at him. “Rumlow,” he says with a nod.

“What are the odds of me seeing you here, huh?” Bucky shrugs, sighing heavily. “What is it you want, Rumlow?” “Where’s your captain? I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Over by the bar chattin’ up a dame. Go interrupt him, I dare ya.” Rumlow purses his lips and chuckles lightly. “A man of business, as usual.” Rumlow gets up from the table and heads over to the bar, giving the woman talking to Steve a smile before stepping between them, far too close for Steve’s comfort.

Bucky watches them, watches as Rumlow speaks and as Steve’s eyes widen. The eyes in question are suddenly on him, a chin raised up towards the ceiling, beckoning the dark-haired man to join the conversation.

Bucky gets up with a groan and heads over to the bar. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the two other men expectantly.

“There’s a ship of the King’s men here tonight, they leave tomorrow at dusk,” Steve starts, waiting for his friend to catch on. When he simply stares back at the blond, Steve sighs.

“We split the bounty down the middle if we help take the ship. Think about it, Buck. They’ve always got gold on those ships.” He shakes his head. Right as he’s about to open his mouth he hears a familiar note being played on the piano. It’s being played softly, so softly he has to strain to hear it, but he hears it no less.

Whipping around, his eyes search for the piano, and, more importantly, the person playing it.

“Buck?” Steve asks, concern lacing his voice. Bucky ignores him, pushing his way through the pub until he gets to the back corner.

His breath catches in his throat, heart racing in his chest as he sees the woman seated at the piano, playing the song that lulls him to sleep every night. His fingers instinctively find the locket around his neck, the one that plays that very same song, and he finds himself blinking back tears.

You can feel him behind you before he says anything, but when he whispers your name you can’t help the shiver that rolls down your spine. Your fingers continue playing but your posture stiffens slightly, the only indication that you heard him.

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for so long.” This has your fingers freezing, and you slowly stand up.

You turn to him and he’s beyond confused and concerned at the betrayal and sadness in your eyes. Without speaking a word, you brush past him, ready to walk straight out of the pub and meet up with Wanda.

He grabs your wrist, urging you to stop, and you do, only to yank your arm out of his grip as if he scalded you. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss, your eyes filled with rage.

His brows pull together in confusion, having absolutely no idea why you’re treating him this way. You turn away from him again and he runs after you, fighting the urge to grab you again.

“(Y/n) wait! Stop!” As soon as you’re out of the pub you feel better, the cool air doing wonders to clear your head.

“Where are you going?” You continue walking, grinding your teeth together as he follows you. His fingers just barely graze your shoulder and you whip around to face him, thunder crackling above you.

Clouds roll in, your emotions getting the better of you as a storm forms quickly overhead.

“You have no right to touch me. I should kill you for even looking at me after what you did!” He looks genuinely confused. “What I did? (Y/n) what are you talking about?” You chuckle once without humour, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Don’t play dumb, James. It doesn’t suit you.” With that you turn and walk away just as the rain starts to fall around you, droplets splattering on your face as tears claw their way down your cheeks.

He stands there in the pouring rain, staring dumbfounded at your retreating figure while wondering what the Hell happened that you’re blaming him for.

“Buck? You okay?” He doesn’t look away from where you last were, his eyes having lost you in the downpour.

“She... I...” He looks over at his friend, eyes rimmed red. “What happened?” Rumlow asks, squinting against the harsh rainfall.

“I don’t know. She just... she hates me. I don’t even know what I did.” Steve pats the man on the shoulder. “After we lost you she went ballistic. Maybe she heard a rumour of something untrue and believes it? I’m sure she’ll come around.” Bucky shakes his head. The way you stared at him, utter betrayal in your eyes... he knows you far too well to believe that you’ll simply change your mind.

“Enough of that. Do we have a deal, Rogers?” Bucky looks over at the two men, confused about whatever deal is going down.

“The King’s ship is here. And they never travel without gold. The colours on this one lead me to believe that there’s an important man travelling for his Majesty. And you know what that means,” Rumlow explains, grinning at the metal-armed sailor. “Leverage,” he murmurs, mind still on you while he ponders the deal.

“The amount of Gold on a king’s ship, even if we split it halfway, would set us over for months,” Steve whispers. Bucky sighs then nods.

“Alright fine. Now which ship are you wanting?”

~*~

“Ladies! It’s good to see you. I’ll be honest, I was unsure if you’d be joining us again. But I’m glad you did.” You smile warmly at Tony then look back out across the open water, eyes flittering towards Tortuga in the distance.

“What did you expect to happen if not that?” Wanda asks softly, stepping beside you and keeping her eyes focused on the horizon.

“I thought he would be surprised to see me. And he was. But he acted as if he didn’t know it was he who caused this in the first place,” you whisper. She frowns but says nothing more, giving you the silence to think over your interaction with the man you used to love.

“Captain! We.. we’ve got some trouble it looks like,” Peter says hurriedly. Tony steps away from where he was listening to your conversation and glances to where the young man is pointing. Sure enough, coming up on the stern are two ships, each with dark flags waving.

Clouds roll in overhead quickly and Wanda’s eyes glow red.

“Pirates,” she whispers. The wind comes in strong, sending a few crew-mates stumbling as they run across the deck.

“They aim to plunder, they want nothing to do with us, unless they deem us of value,” you inform, gathering your skirts in your hands and marching over to Tony.

“We have no chance of outrunning them. And outgunning them... not even a hope.” He looks at you then up to the skies. “Can you not conjure something?” You shake your head. “Nothing more than a storm. But what aids us will aid them. We’ve lost.” He sighs heavily then nods, looking over at his men.

“What will they do?” Your eyes travel to the two pirate ships that are quickly gaining, trying to focus on the flags and determine which ships they are.

You incline your head slightly to the right and a gust of wind comes in, pushing their flags to the side. With wide eyes, you stumble back, the sight of the flags making your heart roar in your ears.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, the wind picking up as the rain starts to fall harder.

“We’ve got no chance,” you whisper, chest rising and falling rapidly as the ships grow nearer.

Wanda is by your side in an instant. “It’s them, isn’t it?” She asks, staring at the ships. You nod, grinding your teeth together.

“There is nothing we can do now,” she says firmly, taking hold of your arm to grab your attention. “Do not let them think they’ve won. They have not.” You take a few deep breaths, reigning in your emotions and clearing the rain. The skies stay grey, but the winds die down and the rain ceases.

“We’re going to be boarded, men. And when that happens we are to remain calm. They are pirates. They will take our gold, they may take our lives, but they will not ever take our pride! They will not strip us of the very thing that makes us men! We are strong and we stand for the King!” The men on the ship all shout their agreements, readying themselves for whatever fate awaits with the coming of the pirates.

Quickly, far quicker than you would’ve expected, you’re being flanked on either side by massive ships. One of them far too familiar. A home long forgotten.

You can see the pirates on either side, shouting profanities and grinning wickedly.

“Prepare to be boarded!” A man shouts at you. You look around at the men surrounding you and take a step closer to the back, burying yourself in the crowd as much as you can.

Pirates swing onto the ship, swords and pistols drawn and prepared for a fight. When they receive none they seem far too happy.

“Imagine my surprise when I see a ship of the King floating idly in the waters of Tortuga. Seemed too good an opportunity to be missed, right boys?” That voice... it sends a shudder ripping down your spine and darkness taints the sky.

You look up, eyes burning with anger, and you stare directly at the man who’s speaking. His murky eyes meet yours and he smiles a sickly grin, stepping down onto the main deck and pushing his way through the crowd.

“Ah, but you are not all men of the King, are you? No, some of you are much more valuable.” He stops when he’s in front of you, eyes raking over your figure.

“Yes. Some of you are far more valuable than mere men of the King.” He raises his fingers up to stroke your cheek and a clap of thunder shatters the silence. You glare at him in warning but he only chuckles, grubby fingers tracing dirty paths down your cheek.

“What are you going to do, witch?” He asks softly, stepping even closer to you. You say nothing, glaring up into his eyes with pure hate. He chuckles and right as he leans down to say something more you spit in his face. He flinches back then glares at you. He raises his hand to strike you but before it can come down, long fingers are wrapped around his wrist.

“No harm is to come to her.” You look over at the man, clenching your jaw shut so tightly you fear you may break it.

“Fine,” Rumlow spits, yanking his hand free from the blond man’s grip. “But we’re going to be changing course,” he shouts, pushing through the crowd to the poop deck.

“Tow the ship! And bring the prisoners aboard and shove ‘em in the brig. We set sail for Nassau.” Rumlow’s men are more than happy to start grabbing at people and chaining their wrists, stopping them from fighting and forcing them towards the edge of the ship where a plank is being laid down.

As men start crossing the gangplank to Rumlow’s ship, the man himself walks over to you and Wanda. Two men come behind him, each with thin metal cuffs in their hands.

“Hope you don’t mind, darling. Just a little precaution. Can’t have you using what little you have left to disturb my ocean.” The way he says it, with such smugness and certainty makes you want to pull his tongue right out of his mouth.

The cuffs are snapped into place and you nearly collapse. The remainder of your powers are stripped from you entirely, leaving you a mere mortal. Wanda inhales sharply at the sensation and you know she’s feeling just as terrible as you.

As the two of you are being pushed towards the plank, a hand lands on your shoulder.

“The witch will have my quarters. She has no place with the men of the king.” You wrench your shoulder out of his grasp and stumble away from him.

Rumlow watches in amusement as Bucky pleads with you with his eyes.

“As generous as an offer that is, I’d rather remain with the only crew who hasn’t betrayed or abandoned me,” you whisper harshly, glaring daggers at them. You cross the plank and are promptly shoved below decks, Wanda close behind.

You’re then locked in the brig with the rest of the crew, chest heaving at both the emotional strain and the physical one of having your powers drained.

Tony looks at you in complete and utter confusion, trying to piece together what he can, but he has little success.

You stay absolutely silent, back pressed against the damp wood of the ship.

Trapped and bound yet again by the hands of the same men.

~*~

“Once they reach Nassau they will look for the other ship of the King, try and find any leverage that they can. They are gathering far too many hostages, and we will be killed soon,” you whisper to Tony, a frown on your face as you peer through a crack in the wood. The ocean is rough, not by your doing, but you cannot help but feel as though the gods are on your side.

“Those men know you. Who are they?” Your bottom lip trembles and you take a few deep breaths. “One of the ships... used to be my home. The other is the reason why I am bound. Why I cannot access my powers fully. And there is only one man alive who knows how to strip me of my powers.”

He’s quiet for a very long moment.

“Why not just kill you? Why bind you?” He asks. You shrug, having asked yourself the same question. Because this, this fate that is now yours, is one worse than death.

“They mean to use you as a weapon,” Wanda says softly, her eyes closed as she tries to get used to not having her powers.

You and Tony both look over at her, waiting for her to continue.

She opens her eyes and looks between the two of you for a moment.

“By keeping you alive, your power remains on this earth. If they were to kill you, then your power would be lost, and that power is of great use to them. I anticipate that it will only be a matter of hours before you’re brought to the captain’s cabin and your purpose is discussed.”

Wanda is correct.

It’s only after the sun has set and night has taken hold that anyone descends the stairs.

“Cap’n wants you in his cabin, Witch,” a man sneers, yanking the door open and grabbing you by the wrists.

He’s awfully rough with you, but you pay it little to no mind, trying instead to focus on figuring out Rumlow’s game plan.

You’re forced into his cabin, nearly tripping over yourself in the process, but you regain your footing just in time and your eyes find those of your captor.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight if I’m honest,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you up and down.

You say nothing, mouth shut tightly and eyes focused on a scratch in the wall.

“Nothing to say? Really? I thought you would have some choice words considering your current predicament. Or are those words reserved for someone else?” A muscle in your jaw ticks and he grins, realizing he struck a nerve.

“It was he who told me how to bind you, how to strip you of your powers. He was there when we did it too. And yet he acts so innocent.” He stands up and walks over to you, circling you slowly, like a vulture.

“How does that make you feel? Does that... anger you? Does it make you hungry for revenge?” He stops when he’s in front of you, two fingers brushing gently across your jaw.

“Your wrath is something I’ve only ever dreamed of harnessing. And I can bring it back. You only need swear alliance to me, and you’ll be free from your bonds. You need only tie yourself to me, and your power will return.”

You look at him, face stoic and cold.

“I will not trade one set of bonds for another. Find someone else to do your bidding.” With that you turn on your heel, only to be yanked back to his chest.

“You will watch your tongue, woman, or I will cut it out. Do you understand?” You say nothing, but for the first time in a long time, you feel truly helpless.

“I am your captain now, and you will listen to me. Unless you would like to join all those that you have sent to the depths. And this time, you won’t have your powers to save you.”

You clench your jaw and tug out of his grip, glaring at him for a moment longer before turning and leaving his cabin.

“You will do my bidding one way or another, Wench! It is only a matter of time before you realize it!”

You’re ushered back below decks and shoved into a separate cell than before, successfully isolating you from the rest of the crew.

“That was brief,” Tony says cautiously, eyes on the retreating crew-mate before returning to your figure.

You say nothing, only close your eyes and pray for something as sweet as death to take you.

~*~

It’s hours later that you’re woken from your sleep, metal clanking together and hushed voices speaking quickly.

“Hurry now, before they wake up.” You push yourself into a seated position, watching in curious confusion as Steve and Bucky hold the cell door open, helping the prisoners out and up the stairs.

Only after they have the permission of Tony do they leave, and even then, the Captain and Wanda stay behind, each of them looking at you.

Upon realizing where you are, Bucky yanks your cell door open, holding his hand out to you.

“We must hasten, it won’t be long before they realize what we’ve done.” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. Tony and Wanda leave their cell, lingering on the stairs and watching as you refuse help.

“Why would I exchange one traitorous pirate for another?” You ask rhetorically, your words like a slap across Bucky’s face.

“Buck, we need to leave. We don’t have time for this,” Steve whispers, gently pushing Wanda and Tony up the stairs.

You stare at the brunet in front of you, daring him to make a move.

When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

“What are you waiting for? Leave. It’s what you’re good at.” He doesn’t have time to argue, but your words cut him deep.

Against his better judgement, he turns and runs up the stairs, hating himself for abandoning you, but knowing that there are far more lives at stake.

The ship branches away from Rumlow's, heading West to escape him.

“We’ll drop you off at the nearest trade stop, but that is all we can do,” Steve says, looking across the table to where Wanda and Tony sit, each eyeing the goblets of rum in front of them.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Tony asks, looking at Bucky. The pirate furrows his brows in confusion.

“You’re the one who got her trapped.” He’s beyond confused now.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He demands, metal hand clenching into a fist.

“Don’t act so innocent. You’re the only person alive with the knowledge of how to bind her to her human form, how to cut her off from the sea. And you act as though you’ve done nothing.” Wanda’s eyes glow red with her anger but Bucky is still confused.

“I-I never told anyone... She trusted me and I kept it to myself. Why...” He trails off, horror colouring his features.

“Steve, when Rumlow found me after I fell overboard, what did he say happened?” Steve ponders this for a moment then shakes his head.

“Just that they found you in the water. Nothing else.” The red slowly fades from Wanda’s eyes as she realizes what must’ve happened.

“Rumlow’s the one who wanted power all along. And he’s stopped at nothing to get it. He means to use her as a weapon to control and conquer the seas. He’s the one who bound her. He must’ve used your knowledge to bind her without you knowing.” The three men in the room are confused by her suggestion.

“Consider it. He has no recollection of the time spent away from the ship, and he is also the only one with the knowledge.” She rises slowly to her feet, red glowing from her fingertips.

“If you let me, I could bring forth the memories, show you what your mind is trying to forget.” He looks at her hesitantly for a moment.

“(Y/n) is a dear friend of mine. If what you are saying is the truth then I promise I will not harm you.” His gaze travels from her to Steve then back to her, a new determination in them. He nods once and then her fingers are hovering right by his temple, a red hue flowing from them.

His eyes slowly take on the same colour before rolling back into his head, his hidden memories finally being brought to the surface, the truth being revealed.

It takes a few minutes, but he finally reopens his eyes, anguish written on his face.

“She... Steve, we must free her.” Steve sighs, not knowing what to say.

“Buck, how are we supposed to do that? We need to free the crew before we do anything. We cannot risk all of their lives.”

“Rumlow’s knowledge may be enough to bind her powers to his ship, his command. The only way to keep the seas safe is to release her, and soon,” Wanda pipes in.

“My crew can wait. And any man who wishes to leave may take a longboat and find their own way.” The Pirates look at the King’s man for a moment before nodding.

“Very well,” Steve says, turning back to his friend. “How do we free her from her bonds?”

“The same way they trapped her in the first place. And to do that we must go to the island where she was born.”

[aries-writingblog]

Brave Enough

Summary: Bucky wonders if he’ll ever be brave enough to admit his feelings to you

Words Count: 1980- ish (I got a little carried away- sorry!!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, characters engaging of age drinking

A/N: gif is not my own, credit to original creator. Happy reading!!

“Bucky, lighten up, man.” Steve griped, flicking through the menu. The brunette didn’t respond, just slumping down lower in his chair and sulking even more. A deep frown etched onto his features. “It’s just a couple hours.”

“Whatever.” He snipped. Bucky could feel his teeth grit together, his jaw aching from pressure. Sam’s foot connected with his under the table, a teasing tilt to his eyebrows.

“He’s just mad that he has to be here instead of lurking ‘round in the shadows back home.” Sam nudged his foot again. Bucky kicked out, but Sam was too quick. Pulling his foot away just in time. “You ever catch him at like three in the morning, just standing around in a dark hallway?”

“Shut up.” Bucky hissed, snatching a spoon from his place setting. The utensil flew across the table, smacking Sam in the chest before falling to his lap. “And I’m not mad I have to be here.”

He truly wasn’t upset he had to be there. He was upset that one person in particular wouldn’t be in attendance. YN was still off on a mission, unfortunately missing Wanda’s birthday dinner. Without her, Bucky would just spend the whole night sulking, no one else treated him the way she did. No one else was her. Without her, his night was already marked as uneventful and boring.

“You are.” Steve corrected, glancing to his watch. “The girls should be here by now. What’s holding them?”

Bucky glanced around the restaurant, eyes scanning over Tony who was animatedly speaking with the owner. Bruce, retuning from the restroom, Peter following him with a million questions. The older man seemed to age further as the teen pestered him- asking questions ranging from science to personal. The kid could be slightly invasive at times.

The door opened- the other half of their party. The birthday girl. Wanda made her way across the room, Natasha behind her and…

“YN.” Bucky felt a weight lift from his chest- possibly his reluctance to be at the table. He watched as she gave him a small smile and wave before Wanda pulled her off to the bathroom.

“Save me a seat!” YN called, meeting Bucky’s eyes. His eyes followed her all the way, until he could no longer see her. Then he was brought back into reality by a cough.

Fuck- he did that in public. His eyes fell to Steve and Sam, their faces schooled into expressions of taunting delight.

“You gonna save her a seat or what?” Steve asked, lips twitching as they begged to smile. Bucky flicked his wrist, giving his friend a very classy middle finger as they snickered in response.

But Bucky did as she said. He unfolded the napkin at the place mat on his right, showing someone was going to sit there. Then he tucked his hands into his lap, waiting anxiously for her return. Sam pursed his lips, leaning his elbows on the table. Bucky groaned, regretting his decision to stay out when Sam sat across from him.

“Won’t you just tell her you’re in love? It would be a lot easier.” He advised, fingers laced under his jaw. Bucky scowled, his foot finally catching Sam off guard, foot connecting with his shin bone. The man cursed, jerking his chair back.

The bathroom door opened, the trio of women hustling toward the table. Natasha was shoving YN playfully, the woman responding with a laugh. Then she turned her eyes to him and he stopped breathing. Stopped living. Oxygen leaving his lungs at an exponential rate when she smiled. Teeth flashing.

“Got a seat for me, Barnes?” She asked- the sound of her voice snapping his consciousness back into the present. Bucky stumbled over himself clumsily, shoving his own chair back to pull hers out for her. “Thank you.” He pushed her back in before taking his own.

“I thought you were still in Arizona?” He kept a constant tab in his brain to focus. There had been several occasions when the pair were carrying a conversation and he noticed, too late, he had just been staring into her eyes. He didn’t mean to- it just happened.

“Just landed. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner I was back- Wanda begged me to come tonight so I had to rush to get dressed.” She explained, giving a half hearted gesture to her clothes. Bucky saw nothing wrong with them- she looked beautiful as always.

“No worries. You look beautiful anyways.” Bucky smiled. He could see in the corner of his eye- Sam and Steve sharing a look across the table. Bucky always experienced these mood swings around YN.

If he was distraught, she was there to soothe him. If he was annoyed or angry, just seeing her face would brighten his day. If he was happy, which wasn’t too often without her being a catalyst, she only intensified that feeling.

Bucky had met YN three months into his stay at the Tower. They shared a wall- his apartment was the one beside hers. He didn’t know she was his neighbor the night she came stumbling home from a mission- exhausted and dirty. Dried blood on her hairline and a red path dripping from her nose. She didn’t notice him that night as he sat in the quiet common area of floor 48. She brushed past him and dug into the fridge. He watched her shove six slices of cold pizza onto a plate and snatch three beers before disappearing into her apartment.

Needless to say, he was intrigued. But he never spoke to her. Not until two months later, in the middle of the night. She happened upon him sitting in the quiet, wide awake and writing in his journal. She commented that she also journaled- sprinting back to her bedroom to bring back a leather bound journal covered in stickers. She then offered him some of his own stickers, pressing them to the black journal in his hands.

Four months of midnight meetings passed and Bucky was infatuated. He found himself wanting to speak to her all the time- going out of his way to find her and talk. Thinking of her all the time, linking an activity with her. Asking himself ‘I wonder what YN would think of…’ Sitting with her at meals, hanging out when she was home. If he could, Bucky would have her attached to his hip at all times.

When they were together, Bucky would go to any lengths necessary to keep her there longer. To take more of her time. For once in his life, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted her complete and undivided attention. Most times, he received it. She happily gave into him, pouring affection onto the super soldier. And he swam in it- unabashedly. Unashamed to be so intoxicated around her.

“Hey, what are you ordering?” YN whispered, leaning toward his

Bucky snapped back, again, noticing that everyone had taken a seat and began to order their meals. Her eyes were trained on him expectantly. YN had seen him lose focus and attempted to reel him back in. He always seemed to fade away, she noticed. She didn’t know where his mind went when it happened but she was a pessimist- she assumed the worst.

“Me- ordering?” Bucky stuttered, his tongue barely catching up with his mind. He winced as she gave a soft smile- another snicker coming from across the table. He shot a glance over to Sam, the biting glare garnered a snarky reply.

“Smooth.” Sam muttered, propping his menu in front his face, shielding it from Bucky’s wrath.

“Sam.” Steve scolded lightly, voice low. Bucky bit back his embarrassment, clearing his throat before responding. It was gonna be a long night.

~~~~~~

YN giggled again, swaying as Bucky latched an arm around her waist. Keeping her upright. It was a struggle- she was very touchy when she was tipsy. Bucky’s heart did jumping jacks, unsure if he should revel in the affection or be disappointed she was doing it while drunk.

“Oh- Bucky, what if we took Four Loko’s and, and… White Claws!” Her fingers wiggled as she spoke, eyes watery and wide. Bucky chuckled, his body unaccustomed to the motions.

“No more alcohol for you tonight, alright? You’re already gonna hate me in the morning for letting you drink so much.” He tugged her waist gently, allowing his fingers to rest on her hip. YN rested her head against his chest as the elevator slowed to a stop on their floor.

“I could never hate you, you know that, right?” She asked, eyes gazing up at him. Bucky heaved a gentle sigh, meeting her eyes. A soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The pair slowly exited the elevator, YN trying her best to break away from his grip. Her attention span was that of a mouse- hands reaching for things in the hallways and in the common area. Finally, they reached the set of doors belonging to them. He released her very carefully to dig through his pockets. YN had given him her spare key months ago, he had it on his key ring. She had it printed in a bright blue- the loudest color on the ring when compared to the black key of his motorcycle and the silver key of his apartment.

He didn’t really need the color distinction. There were only three keys there but hers was the most important one. He had it memorized the day she gave it to him.

“Hey Friday, unlock Bucky’s main door.”

“What? She can do that?” Bucky whipped around, catching a fleeting glimpse of her wobbling, unsteady body as she stumbled into his apartment. “Fuck.”

Bucky abandoned his task in favor of the new, more important task. Getting YN out of his apartment. He followed her at a quick pace, hand outstretched to snatch her wrist but she made an abrupt turn down his hallway. Toward his bedroom.

“YN!” He hissed, reaching for her again. She shoved the door open and made her way into the room. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see your apartment- you never let me in here when we hang out.” She murmured, eyes locking in on the bookshelf in the corner. She made a beeline to it, fingers tracing over the spines of the books. She reached for a book on the second shelf. The second shelf was dedicated to his old journals.

“Okay, maybe…” he gingerly broke her grasp on the book before she could open it, sliding it back into place. Bucky rested his hands on her shoulders, steering her out of the room. “We can do a tour when you’re a little more sober.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her there- Bucky wanted to show her everything, give her everything. But some part of himself kept pushing it all back, keeping her in the light. He didn’t want her to see the bad parts, and there were plenty. He was terrified she wouldn’t want his broken pieces if she saw them.

YN hummed, breaking from his grasp again. He sighed in defeat, letting her go. She tossed her phone to the rug and flopped face first into the bed. A sigh of content rushed from her lips as she snuggled deeper into the blankets.

“Your bed is sooo comfy…” Her voice was muffled by the thick comforter. “This isn’t fair- my bed isn’t this comfy.”

No one’s slept in it since it was purchased- Bucky but back the comment, deciding it wasn’t a good topic to broach. Considering the circumstances. He stood, watching her for a moment. Allowing her to take control for the time being. The smile from earlier began to creep onto his face as she snuggled deeper into the sheets- fully clothed.

“Alright- enough of that, YN. Let’s get you home.” He murmured, tugging on her ankle. She didn’t budge. Bucky stopped, looking up to her face. She was sound asleep. “YN?”

Nothing.

Bucky sighed.

He reached for her ankle again, unclipping the heels from her feet, allowing them to fall to the floor. He swung her legs around, tugging the blankets down on the bed. Bucky pulled them back over her body, reaching into her hair to pull it out of the tight bun she had it in. The hair tie around his wrist as he tucked her in.

“Goodnight, YN.” He whispered softly. Bucky hesitated, lips close to her temple. He could hear a faint snore coming from her throat, dark lashes resting against her cheekbones.

He allowed himself to carefully lean forward, lips pressing to her temple gently. Then he backed away quietly, turning the lights off as he exited. He couldn’t help himself- stealing another glance at her sleeping figure before closing the door. He also couldn’t help the bittersweet smile that tugged at his lips.

One day… one day I’ll be brave enough for you.

Read Part 2: Courageous

[universitypenguin]

Winter Soldier's Match - Part 2

Word Count: 7,324

Related Drabble: The Winter Soldier is a Matchmaker…

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+, oral sex, fingering, some swear words, but over all it's pretty much fluffy smut.

Note: Thank you to all of my new followers. I'd like to let you know that I'm committed to posting works, but since I don't do short (ever, like, I just can't) my work takes time. See the by line of my blog: Writer in progress... and that progress is slow.

Also, would anyone like a smut piece for Zemo? I had an idea this morning and if you're interested, just let me know.

=============================================

Two weeks had passed since the Winter Soldier had broken into her lab. He’d grown tired of waiting for Bucky to act on his feelings and had taken the reins to claim her for them. Since she’d taken the soldier up on his carnal offer, her relationship with Bucky had changed.

The next morning he’d shown up at her door with two steaming cups of coffee. They’d talked and once it was clear that both felt a mutual desire to be more than friends, things escalated. Before she’d tried her best not to imagine what it would be like to have Bucky turn his charms on her. Those were the kind of fantasies that were tempting and sweet and if she dwelled on them for too long, they caused heartache.

Imagining was no longer needed. A bouquet of yellow daffodils was delivered to her the next day. In messy penmanship a note was scrawled.

Just thinking of you, doll. Have a good day.

- Bucky

Her heart melted.

Over the next few days she learned that Bucky Barnes was committed to the art of wooing a girl. There were more flowers and notes. He brought her the same coffees as when they were just friends but now he stayed longer. Instead of lounging quietly on her couch and watching her work, he talked to her. The next week he brought her lunch. They ate together on the same couch where the Winter Soldier had spanked her just days ago. Heat swept through her at the memory. She forced her mind from the matter and focused on Bucky’s words as he told her about his time in Wakanda.

He showed affection with hugs and kisses. The kisses were to her cheek or tenderly pressed to her forehead as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Monday of the next week the sun rolled out from behind spring clouds to warm up the city for the first time since November. Bucky had held her hand in the park and put his arm around her waist when they brushed together on a turn. But he didn’t initiate further contact.

She began to wonder what was going on. Their friendship was solid and the emotional relationship was good. Doubts began to stir. Maybe there was a reason he wasn’t getting hot and heavy with her? Was it that she’d violated his wishes when the Soldier had come on to her? The distance he enforced wasn’t making any sense when she turned the matter over. If his alter ego had been able to take control, then the lust he felt for her must be enormous.

Perhaps she needed to be the one to make a move. The idea tempted her but after considerable thought, she let it go. So far it had been his alter and her who’d made the choices about their relationship. This time she needed to let Bucky do things his way. More pressure wasn’t the answer. Instead, she settled in to enjoy his thoughtful and romantic gestures.

The second week came to a close and he took her to the movies. She sat on his right side and when he took her hand, wrapping both of her arms around his bicep and snuggling close. The giant screen flashed as the protagonist made one bad decision after another. He fell into a pit of quicksand as the mummy closed in behind him, arms outstretched. Tension stretched over the moment but all she felt was exhaustion. Too many nights spent restless, wondering if your relationship with Bucky would ever be anything more than platonic. Her head sank to his shoulder. He turned towards her and pushed down the armrest between them, shifting her so that she lay against his chest. Her forehead pressed into the side of his neck and she sank into his hold as the muscles of his chest formed a perfect cradle for her back.

The next thing she knew he was rubbing her shoulders. His voice sounded in her ear, even as she tried to ignore the intrusion.

“Sweetheart, it’s time to go. Wake up now.”

His hand stroked up her arm, roaming over her shoulder.

“Mmmhhh…”

Bucky laughed. The husky sound was pleasant. She smiled and turned her face into his neck.

“That’s it. You’re awake. I can tell. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Let’s get you to bed…

Her eyes opened. She knew he didn’t mean it the way she wanted him to.

Back at her apartment, she invited him in, fully expecting him to refuse. To her surprise, he said yes. Then he was there, in her living room with his feet up on the ottoman that served as her coffee table. His arms spread out on the back of her mid century couch and his eyes scanning her space. They’d spent all their time together at work and she’d never had him in her private space. He filled her in on how the movie had played out as his restless eyes flicked around the room. She could see the wheels turning in his mind as he took in every detail. His head tilted to read the titles on the books in her case.

“I knew you were a nerd,” he said, “But a whole section on physics? Were you assigned all of those for school?”

She laughed.

“There was only one professor who taught physics at my college - it wasn’t very big - and he was rumored to be a monster. If you gave a wrong answer in class he’d chew you out, that sort of thing. Because I was pretty shy back then, being called out in front of a whole lecture hall wasn’t on my agenda. I decided to learn the entire content of his class before the semester started.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And? Did you?”

“Yes. I paid a kid on my floor for the syllabus so I could use it as a study guide. He offered me his old tests and notes for fifty dollars. I negotiated the price down to thirty because he got a D in the class and the notes probably weren’t very good.”

Bucky grinned. His eyes sparked and the sight of his amusement encouraged her to continue.

“The funny thing is Professor Casey turned out to be a sweet old man. He just had very little patience for....well...for teaching.”

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

Pleasure swept through her at his soft expression. She reached for him without thinking. By the time her brain kicked on, her elbow was bending around his shoulder. She froze, and her eyes darted up to his.

“Uh…”

Her mind went blank. Smoothing over awkward moments wasn’t one of her strong suits. Creating them was more in her area of expertise.

Bucky slid closer. The whirling of her thoughts as she sought for a way to pull back without killing the vibe stuttered. Her mind ground to a complete halt. A warm flesh hand pressed to her left hip and a cool metal one caught into a front belt loop. He gave a gentle tug on the loop of her jeans, his hand pressing her hip to urge her closer. His soft, pink lips curved.

“C’mere, doll. I don’t mind if you want to cuddle me. I like it.”

She let herself be drawn into his arms. He sighed, content, and propped his chin on top of her head.

“Mmmhh. Yeah, I like it a lot. Your hair smells nice,” Bucky said.

“Thanks.”

He was warm. The serum seemed to make him run a bit hot. That would be useful in the winter and probably the summer too, when restaurants put their air conditioners on freezing temperatures. Faint notes of pine and laundry soap teased her nose, the scent bringing back a flash of memory.

Her hands braced on the Winter Soldier’s chest moments before he’d shoved up her skirt and ripped at her panties. Excitement curled in her belly as it sank in that the man she desired needed her. That he’d been driven by lust to go to such lengths for her...

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice drew her from the recollection.

“Uh-huh…”

“Are you uncomfortable with-”

He broke off. She heard him swallow, then felt his chest move as he took a deep breath. Her head tilted back to look at him, but his arms tightened, keeping her in place.

“Are you uncomfortable touching me? Because of what happened before? We talked about it, but if you’re having different feelings now, I want to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking if you’re okay. In general, emotionally...mentally. And if this is still what you want.”

Frustration flared. For a second the surge of emotion locked up her voice. She shoved it down. Bucky had been rattled by the Winter Soldier taking control and even if he was okay with how things had turned out, there was trauma. Knowing him as she did, the self worth issues he felt had long been spelled out in the subtext of their relationship.

“I want you. But I don’t want to push you. After what happened in the lab, I realized it’s been the Soldier and me making the decisions so far. About the physical relationship, you know? So I figured it was time for me to let you set the pace.”

He relaxed and the hold loosened. She tilted her head back and found him staring down at her with an emotion she couldn’t identify glowing in his eyes. The cerulean depths always showed her so much.

“You sound as if you’re apologizing. Doll, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I feel a bit like I took advantage of you. Or maybe a better way to put it would be that the Soldier took advantage of you and then I helped him finish the deed.”

Bucky snorted. “Have you considered why he got out in the first place?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m holding back. If you’re not comfortable with a physical relationship yet, then I’ll wait.”

“Honey, the only reason he could take the reins was because I wanted you so badly.”

Her cheeks flushed. Delight surged in her heart, pure joy swirled through her veins. Bucky wanted her. Not just wanted, he wanted her bad enough to admit it.

“I’m glad. But it doesn’t necessarily follow that you’re going to sleep with me.”

“I do want to sleep with you. But I also want you. To date me, to be with me. I needed to pull back and make sure you understood that this isn’t just sex.”

“Oh.”

That made sense. In the context of knowing Bucky for almost a year, it fit in perfectly with his more traditional traits. He didn’t denounce the sexual revolution or its outcomes. But when he’d gotten off of Tinder he’d told her he wasn’t interested in a sexual relationship that didn’t include an emotional attachment. It left him feeling cold. She’d been dizzy with jealousy for days after he’d said that, wondering who he’d made that particular discovery with.

“I also wanted you to have a chance to come to your senses. I know I have a lot of baggage and if you’re not prepared to deal with that, I’d understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not shying away, Bucky, and I’m not going let you push me away either. I’m the one here who has a terrible track record with romantic relationships. Maybe I don’t have the same kind of baggage that you do, but we all come with something.”

“What about…” Bucky paused, swallowing. He dropped his gaze to her chest. “I know I left bruises.”

Shocked by his admission, she pulled back from the embrace. He released her in an instant. She sat up straight, turning her body so that she faced him directly. His expression was painted with lines of worry and stress. Seeing him hurting because of her made her heart give a painful twist.

“Is that the real reason you haven’t touched me?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

She started to get up, ready to put a little distance between them. His cologne, the smell of pine mixed with laundry soap, and the heat from his body was clouding her brain. She needed some space so she could think.

Bucky’s metal hand snagged her wrist.

What happened next was fast and smooth. He used the grip on her wrist to pull her off balance and his flesh arm went around her hips. The way he lifted her up was effortless. Being a healthy sized adult woman, she’d never been tossed into the air before. The last time she’d been picked up had been prior to grade school. Bucky scooped her up with ease, hoisting her bottom under his forearm, and turning. She was deposited onto the sofa in a split second and he swung himself up on top of her. His right knee was planted between her spread legs and his hands braced on either side of her head.

She stared up at him, shocked.

He watched her face as if the answers to every important question he’d ever considered were written across her skin. She let him look. After a tense moment, he smiled.

“You’re not afraid of me,” Bucky said.

“When have I ever been?”

“Never. Even when I bolted into your lab like a crazy person, running from Steve. You weren’t scared.”

Her hand reached up to clasp his face between her palms. A tender smile curved her lips.

“You didn’t look like a crazy person. You looked desperate. And I knew Steve would buy my lie because he trusted me.”

Bucky shook his head. “I had just gotten back from Wakanda. Everyone on the science teams had been briefed about me and they kept their distance. But you weren’t even phased. Your reaction was so unexpected, I had to stay.”

“I’m glad.”

“You gave me a chance to catch my breath. And you’ve been doing it ever since.”

A lump rose in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. Bucky turned his head into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Don’t cry, doll. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bucky.”

He took her hands from his face and settled back, braced on one knee between her spread legs, the other foot on the ground. Their fingers laced together as he drew her hands to him, holding them against his chest. He flicked his tongue out, dampening his lips.

“I’m sorry for one thing. I should have been honest about how I felt with you. If I had, he’d have never hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

That wasn’t strictly true, but she wasn’t going to share the details with the guilt ridden man in front of her. Bucky had been right about the Winter Soldier leaving bruises on her. The brutal spanking he’d delivered in her lab had turned purple and blue.

“The soldier is different for you,” Bucky said.

“What?”

He closed his mouth, looking as if he wanted to take the words back.

“Will you explain that?”

“I love you. It affects him, too. The lack of conscience applies to everyone and everything else. But not to you. He cares about you. You’re right. He wouldn’t have hurt you. Except for…”

The spanking.

She shivered at the memory. The tremor wasn’t from fear. What he’d done to her had been rough, it had hurt, and she’d cried from pain. But she’d felt pleasure that matched the pain. Trying to handle both sensations at the same time had almost given her an orgasm, all from his flesh hand slapping her ass until it burned. For days afterwards, she’d thought of him every time she sat down.

“I enjoyed it. Okay? You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“It bothers me that he didn’t offer, he decided he wanted to hit you and then pushed you when you were vulnerable.”

“Orgasm drunk, you mean,” she said.

Heat flashed through his blue eyes, like lightning illuminating the sky during a midnight storm.

The fierce emotion was there for a split second and then gone. Covered. She peered into his face, wondering if she’d imagined the reaction. What was she waiting for? It had already been two weeks. Her bruises were healed and his desire to show her he wanted more than sex had been heard. It was time for action. She slid the leg he was straddling out from under him and tugged on her hands, still captured in his, to pull him to her. The pressure on her body from his weight was heaven.

Bucky groaned. She let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him in place, keeping him where she wanted him. He leaned on his elbows. Pale irises, the color more intense than the sky, burned into hers. Now she could feel his reaction as their hips pressed together.

“Don’t play with me right now.”

“Why not?”

“Doll. Please-”

“Do you want me? Or is it just the Winter Soldier who wants me? I love you, and you love me. We’re already friends and now I want more. I want you.”

She tightened her legs and rolled her hips. His eyes fluttered closed and a muscle in his jaw flexed.

“I trusted you even when you were the Winter Soldier. From what you’ve said, he’s mine. But what I really want is you.”

“You do? Even after what he did? You’re comfortable, you’re sure?”

“Do I need to strip off all my clothes and start begging? Being with the Winter Soldier may have been hot, but I’m in love with the real man. I’d also prefer to get laid in this relationship without having you hold back until he takes over.”

“Fuck.”

His cock twitched where it was pressed to her core. Relief rushed through her.

“So what’s it going to be?” she asked.

His mouth covered hers. She opened when his tongue brushed the seam of her lips, taking him into her heat. The slow slide of his tongue against hers was the opposite of how the soldier had been with her. Passion burned just as hot, but the pace and feel was different. Bucky explored her like he’d been given a treat he’d only have one chance to savor. His weight settled onto her, pushing her deep into the couch as he sprawled out. His hands found their way into her hair to grasp the strands, forcing her head back. The new angle gave him deeper access.

She moaned and he responded with a groan. The hands in her hair were gentle, but firm. He held in place as he plundered her mouth, his tongue teasing and stroking. The pace was slow. He kissed her like it was a stroll down the beach, meant to be drawn out. She whimpered at the brutal heat of attraction as he kept building the kiss, pushing her desire higher. More. She needed more. She needed him to possess her, not just tease and explore. Her body tried to buck, hips moving in helpless circles as the kiss turned molten.

Bucky stilled her with his weight.

“No, doll. Let me have this. I want to kiss you. I’ve fantasized about doing this for a year.”

“Please. I’ll melt.”

“Damn straight. Gonna have to carry you to the bed when I get done kissing you. Orgasm drunk? Wait until you’ve been teased.”

“Bucky!”

He laughed. His eyes sparkled just the way she loved. And it was unsettling how much she was already turned on, with the added threat of him continuing to do so. For an unknown duration. If she was reading him right, it’d be awhile.

“I’m going to have my way with you right here on this couch. In the 40’s we didn’t have the same expectations around dating. I got laid, but it wasn’t common. Most girls back then didn’t take that kind of risk. But this? Not so risky. And I was damn good at this. I can wreck you from kissing and sucking your breasts.”

She felt a bit like a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

As his mouth found hers again, she discovered that Bucky was a demon for pleasure. He knew how to take a kiss deep and hot, then back away. He took command of her mouth and brought her into a passion so intense she began to tremble. Then he pressed light kisses down her neck, to the vee of her blouse. She felt flushed and hot. Her hands went for the buttons on the front but he caught them, pinning them above her head.

“No, doll. You gotta let me have my fantasy. I need to kiss you until you’re weak.”

“Please! I’m begging you.”

He nipped her lower lip and she gasped. Flames raced straight to her center and her thighs clenched. She couldn’t hold still. The pressure was too much, she needed relief.

Bucky watched, face smug with satisfaction. “Don’t beg yet. I haven’t even gotten to your breasts. Haven’t sucked the pretty little nipples until they’re soaked with my saliva. Nibbled ‘em. Drawn on them like I’m gonna drink from your tit.”

She moaned.

“You like that, huh? A good latch and strong pulling does it for you? Yeah it does. I can feel you getting hot.”

He circled his hips grinding into her. She surged against him but couldn’t budge his weight. Couldn’t find friction to relieve the incredible pressure he’d built inside of her.

“We do this how I want. The soldier likes fast and raw. Not me, doll. I like this pace. I like to smell you, all sweet and musky and know you’re soaking your panties because I’ve kissed you so good.”

“Bucky, I need you.”

“You have me.”

His mouth returned to her lips. She sucked his tongue, kissed back and tried to entice him by grinding their bodies together. He was immovable in his decision to move at the pace of a sloth. She was on fire, desperate for more. He was patient and deliberate. When he stripped her out of the blouse and undid the front clasp of her bra to free her breasts, she sobbed with relief.

The lace of the cups had grown uncomfortable as her skin had become more and more sensitive. Her breasts felt heavy and full, engorged with need. Puckered into sharp points, her nipples were begging for his mouth.

“Ah. So pretty, doll. How’d you end up with such gorgeous breasts?”

The idea struck her that he might devote equal time to her chest as he had to her mouth. She wanted to weep with frustration and sob from the burning need for him that tormented her. His tongue traced across her decolletage.

“Touch me, Bucky!”

He scooted down, his hands bringing her wrists to her sides. She was still pinned. If he let go she was going to try and strip off the rest of her clothes. That was probably why he kept holding her. His grip wasn’t tight, just restraining.

“I promised I’d make you melt. Can’t go back on my word, now can I?”

“I’m fucking melted!”

He laughed. The bastard had the gall to laugh. She was about to snarl, but he bent his head to nuzzle the swell of her breast.

“Please, I need you so bad.”

His mouth opened, pressing wet kisses to her overheated skin. Sweat rolled in beads down her sternum and he ventured over to lick it up. Her nipples were as hard as rocks. They’d seized up into tiny darts, protruding out, demanding attention. Bucky released her wrists and cupped her breasts, lifting them. Just that gave her relief. His hands felt so good. The metal one was still cool. The flesh was rough with callouses and warm. He stroked up with his thumbs, rubbing her nipples.

Her back flexed, arching into the touch. She moaned. Her plan to get rid of her clothes was gone, because her mind emptied of thoughts when he touched her. He rolled the buds under his thumbs, then plucked at them. Gentle, he tugged the flesh between his fingers, caressing it with soft touches. It left her throbbing for more.

“Oh, Bucky. Please. Your mouth.”

She didn’t expect him to do it. He’d been teasing her so long. When he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, she gasped. He captured the bud between his teeth to pull and then lapped with the broadside of his tongue, working the bud with fervor. Moans and whimpers started to come from her mouth. She lifted a hand to muffle them. Bucky growled. He drew deeply on her nipple. She arched and sobbed.

Bucky lifted up his head and glowered.

“Take your hand off your mouth, doll. I wanna hear you.”

She kept it there, nervous about what sounds might come out of her mouth if she did as he asked.

“Take it off or I’ll stop.”

The threat frightened her enough that she dropped her hand.

“Good girl.”

His hands cupped her breasts, burying his face between them. He kissed over to the untended breast. She whimpered before he’d even latched on. This time she knew what was coming. He gave a chuckle.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

“I need you inside of me, Bucky.”

“Oh, I will be. Once I’m finished enjoying my snack. And then the other snack I intend to have.”

He drew her nipple, bringing his hand up to knead her flesh as he sucked. What he’d promised - to nurse from her - became reality. As if he could extract liquid from the ducts that didn’t have the right hormones to trigger such a response, he pulled at her straining nipple. Her body twisted in his grasp. He growled again, vibrating against her. With a pop, he let her go and nuzzled her breast, his stubble scraping pleasurably over sensitive skin.

She moaned.

“How’s that, baby? Are you sensitive for me?”

“What do you think?!”

“I can smell you. You’re dripping, yeah?” Bucky was smirking up at her. He already knew.

“I need you. Fuck me, please.”

“You ask so nicely,” he praised. “But you know the one thing the Winter Soldier never got? He never got to eat you. I think he’s pissed off about that. Bastard shouldn’t have wasted his time spanking you when he could have devoured your sweet pussy.”

The sparkle that she loved to see in his eyes was stronger. Not a flash of happiness, but a glow of passion.

Her head dropped back and she stared up at the ceiling in shock. His patience was astonishing. The skill he’d already shown made the promise he’d just made her all the more nerve wracking. From what he’d said, this was probably in the domain of what he’d done in the 40’s. She was going to die from pleasurable torture.

Bucky chuckled at her reaction. His hands, one warm and rough, the other cold and smooth, held onto her hips. She was barely aware of the subtle grinding of her body that he hindered with gentle pressure. He kissed along her rib cage, towards her midline, then down to her belly button. His tongue swirled, dipping into it, then tracing farther down. He undid her belt, flipping open the clasp with patient fingers. Rather than ripping away clothing, shoving it out of the way like his alter ego had, he was slow. He slid the belt out of its loops and undid her zipper, parting the teeth one by one. When he peeled down her jeans she wiggled to aid his action.

Bucky tossed her jeans aside and spread her legs. He wrapped his cool metal arm around her thigh, holding her as he pressed his face to her clothed core.

“Yeah, that’s what I like to feel. You’re hot. The scent is intoxicating for me, doll. It’s muskier now, not as sweet. Is it because you’ve had to wait so long? Just this smell gets me rock hard.”

She whimpered.

“Ah, that too. Those pretty little sounds go straight to my cock.”

Her hands went to her hips, pushing off the last of her clothing. To her surprise he allowed it and helped her take them down her legs and tossed them on the floor, on top of her jeans. He laid down, pressing his lips to the top of her mound.

“Pretty,” he murmured.

Brushing his fingertips of his flesh hand through her folds, he collected her wetness and lifted it to his lips.

She watched in fascination as he leaned onto his elbow and looked directly at her as he sampled her juices. Bucky moaned, his pupils widening. The mask of control slipped for a second. Lust painted his features. She rocked her hips forward, widening her legs and offering himself to him.

“Bucky, I need your mouth.”

He groaned and sank down, lapping up her slit, delving between them to her clit. Pleasure hit her so hard she couldn’t even think to restrain the scream that burst from her throat. He toyed with her bundle of nerves, rubbing the tip of his tongue over it and then straying to curl around it. The teasing was just beginning, she discovered. Bucky was keeping her on edge. He built arousal until her thighs trembled. Tears clogged her throat as frustration turned to agony.

“Bucky!”

He hummed, lips vibrating against her clit.

She jerked and struggled. Her mind was blank to anything except the need for more. He had to help her because the orgasm that was building inside of her was terrifying. She could feel the edge of intensity as it gathered. Her trembling thighs began to shake in earnest.

“Please, please, more...I can’t... I have to...oh!!”

He latched onto her clit and closed his lips tight around it to suck with purpose. She screamed again. Her hips rolled helplessly into his mouth. Sounds peeled from her lips, helpless, undeniable. Control was a thing of the past. All that mattered was that he would satiate the hunger he’d set loose.

“Please make me come, I need to...I need…”

“I know what you need.”

His voice. Oh, the sound he made with that deep baritone. She shuddered.

“Please, Bucky, your fingers.”

She was clenching around nothing and the ache in her pussy was torture. This was beyond pleasure she’d ever felt, the pinnacle higher than she’d been before. It was exhilarating and frightening and she was defenseless from it. All she could do was shiver under the sensations of his tongue as he doled out licks from his tongue, as he caressed her with his lips, and scraped his teeth, and then sucked until she keened.

“Bucky!”

Finally, the broad tip of his finger breached her entrance. Her slickness invited him in and the quivering inner muscles drew him deep. He wiggled the finger, curling into the spot he’d already known would make her shout. She threw her head back and tossed herself up, back bowing off the couch. He burrowed a second finger and set a rhythm, brushing her spot and suckling her clit.

“Aahh…”

Her moan followed a vigorous jerk of his fingers. She gasped, the breath leaving her body at the jolt of ecstasy that ripped through her.

“B-B-Bucky!”

“That’s it, doll. Milk my fingers like that with your sweet cunt. Give me your cream.”

“Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

“You like my fingers. Like ‘em just like this, deep inside of you. Rubbing your spot so you can’t help but shake and cry and scream my name.”

Her muscles clenched, harder than they ever had before. She surged against him. The unyielding grip of his metal arm around her leg kept her pinned. A scream ripped from her throat, raw and desperate. He drew on her clit and worked his fingers harder. Bucky turned his full force on her. He took command of her sensitive inner area and with rough pulls, tender circling caresses, urgent strokes of his fingers. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

The thin thread of control she’d held onto snapped. Her back bowed and her hips jerked against his hand. Her mind blanked. She opened her mouth on a cry, no sound coming forth. A shudder worked its way through her entire body, rolling up her spine, shaking through her legs, curling her toes.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky crooned. “Come for me. Keep going.”

She couldn’t stop. Once the thread snapped she was in the grip of a violent climax that ripped through her. Fire surged in her belly, through her veins, shooting up her spine and down her legs. Muscle quivered. Her channel milked at his fingers just like he'd ordered. Riding out your orgasm, people said. No, this orgasm was riding her.

He kept going even as she fell to pieces.

His praises rang in her ears, but her mind was so overwhelmed as it tried to process wave after wave of pleasure, she couldn’t hear. The blood rushing through her head didn’t help. She caught his tone and nothing more. When the powerful climax tapered off to shivers, she went limp. Her face was wet with tears and her lips were trembling with silent sobs.

Bucky’s fingers were still inside of her. He moved close, taking his metal arm from around her leg and releasing his harsh grip that had held her down as she’d thrashed.

His lips touched hers, light as a feather. With quaking arms she reached for him, grasping his shoulders.

“How’re you doing, doll?”

“Mmmhhh…”

Vocabulary was hard when her brain was so short circuited. But her murmured sound was filled with contentment.

“That looked spectacular, sweetheart.”

His vibranium limb slid under her back as he drew her into an embrace. She wrapped both arms around his neck and burrowed into his neck. Her breath was ragged and she licked her lips, finding them dry. Bucky lifted her torso, taking her into a sitting position. His flesh fingers were still inside of her body. He held her upright with his metal arm. Without it, her slack body would have crumpled. Soft lips pressed to her forehead, then her temple, and brushed over the shell of her ear.

“You look so good when you come on my fingers. But I need more, doll. You squirted for the soldier and I want that too. Deep breath, honey. Take a deep breath and I’m gonna fuck these fingers into you hard and I’m not gonna stop. Two times for him.”

She groaned at his words. The meaning was plain - she’d squirted twice for the Winter Soldier. He wanted her to do the same now. She didn’t know if she could. And she was a little afraid he’d force it out of her, overwhelming her senses and breaking her mind past the hope of repair.

“Please, Bucky…”

“I’m here.”

He kissed her neck, his voice calm and filled with tenderness.

Without taking his fingers out of her pussy, he moved her to sit on the edge of the couch. He settled beside her, positioning himself with one leg behind her and the other braced on the ground. The leg behind her back bent, his knee pressing into the small of her back, holding her on the edge of her seat. His metal arm was still snug around her waist.

“Spread as wide as you can for me, baby.”

She did as he bade, pushing her legs apart.

“Mmmhh. Perfect.”

He worked his fingers, swirling upwards over the spot. Her head fell back. Bucky leaned in, his thigh shifting as he did, and then the soft press of his shirt, the heat of a muscular chest was against her back. Her head was cradled by his shoulder. Cool metal pressed to the blazing skin of the underside of her breasts. Pleasure burst from that as well, just as he brushed up to her g-spot. Her head tossed on his shoulder, her back bowing.

“Oh, Bucky!”

He was being slow and tender again, careful with her over sensitive body that hadn’t quite stopped quivering.

“Doin’ so good, doll. Give me what I need.”

A moan wretched from her as he kept the circular movements going. He’d slide over her spot and then move off it, higher than she needed, then sink back down to tease for a moment and go too low. Up again, over the spot. Off it so she could catch a breath and then back down until he was too low. His pace was deliberate. The movements of his fingers were firm and steady even though her clenching muscles should have hindered his rhythm. Each time he touched the spot she whimpered. There was no doubt he knew exactly where it was.

“Bu-cky!”

She hissed his name as he took away the pressure a split second before her release.

“My good girl. Don’t let it come easy. I want you to soak my hand. You gotta hold back as long as you can, so it’ll be strong.”

His lips nuzzled up her neck, then pressed to her cheek. Fingers touched the spot and she jerked. His arm tightened, staying her from the helpless movement.

“No. Steady now. Breathe through it, don’t come.”

“I need it, please, please.”

“Do you want to squirt on my fingers? Do you want to soak my hand, doll?”

He picked up the pace with each word, grinding his palm up into her clit and forcing his fingers against the spot. She clamped down around his digits and moaned. When he moved harder, she squirmed. But as she should have known - there was no escaping him.

“There you go, that’s it. Let it loose. Give it to me, show me how sopping wet that pussy gets for your man.”

The orgasm washed over her. She shuddered, gasped, then started to pant as it threw her into the air. Her head dropped to his shoulder and her hands curled into fists. His metal arm seized on her waist to control the involuntary movements that took control of her body as the climax began. The fingers curled harder into the sweet spot and she snapped her hips away the erotic torment.

“Bucky!!”

“There she goes,” he whispered.

As the climax drove her to scream, the release he’d demanded of her came. She felt the flood of wetness and knew it for what it was. Her release was like an orgasm within an orgasm. Pleasure exploded, like a solar flare bursting from the surface of the sun. Her eyes rolled back.

His arm held her in place as he continued rubbing her. Sloppy sounds of her pussy being ravaged by his long fingers reached her ears. The sound made her cry out.

Her orgasm left her wrung out, drooping against his chest.

He curled his leg around her hips, then his arm yanked her tight to his chest. The lax muscles of her body couldn’t react. Her dazed mind was still wrapped in the orgasm. Bucky drove his fingers harder than before, rutting at the spot with vicious strength. If there had been air in her lungs to make a sound, she’d have screamed. But her lungs were empty from the gasp she’d given at his first touch to the overstimulated area. Her mouth opened on a silent scream as he ravaged the third orgasm out of her with determined fervor.

“Two times, doll. Be a good girl and give it to me again.”

She shattered.

Falling apart was her first and second climaxes. This was a blow that sent her fragmenting. The violence of her body’s reaction was unfathomable. Breath was sucked back into her lungs and then she screamed. But it kept coming. The orgasm battered through her. Inner thigh muscles burned with exertion and her belly clenched. It felt like her womb was seizing right along with her pussy. He wasn’t stopping. The burning turned to an inferno and she couldn’t stand it a second longer. She tried to throw herself out of his arms but he laughed. The vibranium arm was ready for the desperate move.

“Squirt, doll. Need to make it even. He’s not gonna get more from you than me.”

Like it had been waiting for his words, the wetness poured out. Her hips jerked up and he allowed the movement, using it so that he could get a better angle. A raw scream spilled from her, the tone so deep on her vocal cords that her throat ached. The solar flare exploded. She broke down, tears streaming, wailing from pleasure so intense it was nearly painful.

Bucky uncurled his fingers, straightening them out. He swirled one slow, tender circle around the outer edge of the spot as if giving it a goodbye kiss, before he pulled out his dripping fingers.

“Oh, doll. Look at the mess you made for me. Didn’t know you could come like this, huh? Now it’s how you’re gonna come all the fucking time.”

Shudders kept coming. The aftermath felt like a haze. Her mind was stupefied, spinning with sensation and emotion. Bucky pressed his fingers into her mouth and she sucked them, moaning, still in a trace of pleasure. He rubbed her side and down over the curve of her hip.

“That’s it, baby girl. Clean up my fingers. You taste so good. I can’t be greedy, keeping it all for me.”

When his fingers were clean he lifted her up, cradling her body in his lap. Glazed eyes, damp from tears made him smile. Bucky cupped her chin and studied the expression, committing it to memory. His thumb petted the swollen lower lip. She moaned when he grazed his lips over hers.

“Fucked out, doll?”

Her eyelashes fluttered, closing, then opening, as exhaustion pulled at her. Bucky raised the crook of his arm to support her neck as it lolled, unable to keep upright. He leaned back into the corner of the couch, drawing her close. Shivers started as the pleasure faded to embers and physical reactions set in. He guided her to his chest as tears began again, this time tears of fatigue and shock.

“It’s alright. I know, putting you through them back to back like that just wrecks you, don’t it? Let me hold you.”

His hands kneaded the muscles in her shoulders, fingers digging in to push at tendons, easing her tension. She sobbed into his chest and he drew her tighter, feeling the shivers. Goose pimples raised along her arm and he took a throw blanket tossed over the corner of the couch to wrap it around her. Bucky kissed her cheek, temple, and stroked a soothing hand through her hair until she eased.

“I love you,” he said into her ear, voice soft with emotion.

The last of the tears left her spent. With eyes fluttering closed, she mumbled the words back.

Bucky smiled, even as his body raged with need. Her response was so gargled with exhaustion the words slurred together. But he’d understood. She loved him.

The Winter Soldier may have made the match between them, pushed them past friendship into more. He’d shown her pleasure first. But Bucky was content now, holding his girl’s sleeping form. He tucked her hair back from her face and then curled his arm under her knees. The door to the bedroom stood open and he rose with her cradled in his arms.

Once she’d slept off the shock, he would have her. He’d sink inside that warm, wet heat and she’d be so soft for him that his girth wouldn’t even phase her. Bucky laid her on the bed and settled in beside her, tucking himself around her smaller form. The Soldier was no match for the man. Not when it came to pleasing the woman he loved.

Part 1 - The Soldier

[sweetsbfreex]

love me for me, it’s all i ask

Summary: Bucky meets your family, but your nerves clouds you judgment

Warnings: angst!!! 

Pairing: Bf!Bucky x reader

-

Dating your Bucky is filled with a mix of gentle touches, insecurities and reassurances, long yearning stares, love running so deep he had Tony install some kind of metal warmers–– so you wouldn’t shiver every time you cuddled into his arm or he decided to wrap it around your waist while you slept. It was heaven, but of course there were bumps in the road.  

Dating the Bucky Barnes or what most people saw as the “Winter Soldier'' was filled with: anxious walks down the street with his hand holding your waist tightly, his natural habit of looking over his shoulder, and his need to wear a pair of black,leather gloves no matter where you went. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, you loved him too much for it.

-

“Buck, calm down, it’ll be fine.” You chuckle, keeping your eyes on the road, yet lifting one hand off the wheel to briefly squeeze his anxious leg. 

His leg stops shaking and he only nods his head, but when he realizes you can’t see he chokes out a sorry. Instead, he begins to twiddle his gloved thumbs and turns his head to look out the window. He watched the shops and trees pass by in a flur, there wasn’t much on his mind other than what he would say when he got there. 

You slow the car at a red light and turn to see him in the same state. "It's okay if you want us to go back to your place, I can take a u-turn right here, and we can meet them another time." you tell him, extending your fingers to tangle with the ends of his hair. 

“I’m fine doll really...just excited,” He semi-lied through his perfect teeth adding a small smile. 

You were both on your way to your parents house, only ten minutes away now. Bucky coming along wasn’t anything planned. 

Your mom had called two nights ago, at the same time you and Bucky snuggled in bed watching his latest fix on Hulu. Streaming platforms are something he enjoyed about the modern world. He liked that he could have things like Shirley Temple in a pinch, anytime and anywhere he wanted.  

Anyway, Your mom had called, interrupting the trance Tom and Jerry had on the both of you at the moment. 

“One second” you tell him, unraveling from his hold before getting hold of your phone. Bucky makes a move for the remote, but you assure him that it’s fine so he goes back to watching the cartoon. 

And you answer, “Hey mom.” When Bucky heard who it was calling, he side-eyes you for a few seconds, curious.

“Hey! y/n/n, you haven’t called in awhile are you okay? Me and Snicks miss you” The call of his name causes you to hear a bark in the background.

“I’m fine, it’s literally been a day. Are you okay?” It’s not weird for her to call during this time, but nonetheless you know she has something she needs to say.

“‘Perfectly fine honey. I was calling because Daisy is coming down the day after and we’d thought it would be nice for the three of us and aunt to come down too. You’re not busy are you? Maybe you could take a quick detour and visit?” She lived alone in your childhood home, refusing to let all the memories die in the cherished home.  Going as far as making you and your sister promise one of you would possess the house when she passed on. 

At the mention of a little reunion, you decided it would be best to take this somewhere with more privacy. You couldn’t explain, but you thought it would be better for Buck not to hear it. He hasn’t met your family and you don’t want to pressure him into meeting them if he isn’t ready or uncomfortable. You also didn’t want to ask him...in case he wasn’t ready or comfortable.

“Uhh one second” you mute your phone, telling Bucky you’ll be in the hallway prior to giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Mom?”

“I’m here!”

“Yeah I can make it, shouldn’t be busy, it’ll likely be me though.” You pace the hallway up and down as if it was the only place to walk in the whole house. 

“That’s great, okay, I’m gonna text Shirley to come by earlier so we can make a bit extra of everything”

“Extra? Isn’t it just the four of us?”

“No, honey, you know the kids and your sister said she’s bringing someone. Well I don’t know! You know how these things go”

The call goes on for a minute or more. Your mother tells you whatever information is vile and sends you a goodnight. Which you return.

“Sorry, she wanted to inform me of something” you tell him as you walk through the door. Placing your phone in charge once again and like a kitten nestling yourself into his side once again. 

He lets his metal arm lay over your shoulders and you interlace your hands together. 

Silence passes by and gets broken by Bucky who clears his throat to speak up. “Uhm” he starts his free hand coming up scratching the back of his neck. “Do you want me to act like I didn’t hear the conversation?

You sit up in surprise at his confession. “You heard that?!”

He sends you in an unimpressed look. His finger points to his ear then his hand hovers his body, going up and down wildly. Unimpressed at the way you forget he’s pumped in this super serum, he can’t help how far his hearing is.

“Sorry I just forget you’re not human human”

He takes a beat of silence to himself, “I’m not human human?”

“No! Baby, not like that. You know I mean like I forget that you these special abilities–– other than your arm–– inside that I can’t see...y’know”

“It's fine doll” he pulls you back into his side, “Are you going?”

“Yeah…” 

“Do you need company? If not that’s fine I just wanted to ask––” he goes by the question quickly, scared that he’s made it weird between the two of you. 

“You want to visit my family with me?” you ask astounded.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it?” he reassures you in a haste, a hand going to your bare thigh. 

“Are you comfortable with it?” you ask.

“Baby, I just said––” he laughs in a delicate manner. 

“I know, I know. Sorry. I just didn’t know you would want to, I know how anxious you get with a bunch of people, Which is fine! But I don’t want to nudge you in something like that”

“I think it would be perfect, honestly”

“I’m happy you think so” you smile.

-

Currently the car parks in the driveway of your former home. The leather enveloping Bucky’s hands wring together. You don’t say much, only getting out of the car, jogging to Bucky’s side of the door, until you could open his door. 

You tug him into a gentle hug. Standing between his legs once he’s adjusted himself to take every last of you in. You squeeze him once and smile when you feel the nerves and tension falling from his shoulder.

You okay?" you ask. It may seem like a dumb question at the time, but one thing you've learned about Bucky is. A simple question like that allows a spacious answer, it helps him a little more. 

You don’t pull away but adjust your face to place a kiss to his cheek. 

“Yeah” he breathes out. “...What if they don’t like me, we’ll still be together right?”

That question right there drops a bucketful of guilt over your head, but you know what you’re doing is right. 

You pull away , after a second, letting your hands fall to each side of his neck. 

"Of course Buck with or without approval you're still mine. Doesn't matter anyway, everyone will love you 'cause you're amazing." You smile, your fingers roaming over his very recently shaven under jaw.

“Thanks, doll”

“Nothing to thank me for” you give him one last squeeze, “You ready?” 

“Yeah...I don’t know if I’ve told you, but you look really good today”

You wore nothing but a flowy, yellow, long sleeved surplice front dress and a pair of platform sandals.

“Stop trying to stall time!” You tease. 

“I’m not. Promise I’m not” he throws his hands up in surrender, a bright smile on his face. As quick as he throws them up, they come down around your waist. “Ready when you are” 

Having said that, Casual, black slacks hug his lengthy legs lackdasically. A short sleeve, white polo accentuates his waist, and his hair pulls back into a low bun.

 It's so unbelonging to him. But the night before Bucky's been filling with worry about how he should dress to impress.

While you’re still standing between his bent legs and your fingers settle on his neck. You take one hand to pull the hair tie from his hair. Watching his curtains fall around his face

“Doll?—“

“I know you don’t wanna wear your hair like this, it’s fine. I promise Bucky they’ll love you.” You reassure him this time with a kiss, pulling away to entangle your fingers together. 

When you go to close the door he holds up a finger. You watch him stand there hesitation on his face. Before he decides to shrug off the leather jacket and slip off his gloves.

His bionic arm is perfectly bare for anyone to see and you couldn’t be more proud when he sends a shy smile your way. 

-

So soon, you’re both at the doorstep, hands linked together. You knock on the door. 

“Coming!” The sound of your mom’s voice brings a smile to your face, but only makes Bucky’s nerves sky rocket. 

When you hear the sound of the doorknob rattling, you give in at the last moment releasing the mutual hold of your hands. In nerves you miss the gaze and frown of Bucky–– more like brush off, but you play dumb for the sake of it all.

“Y/N––” your mother starts, voice dying and a gasp let out, looking like a guppy out of water when she sees the man standing beside you. Bucky seems none the wiser. Sure he expected some kind of reaction, not like his whole isn't on blast or anything.  

She composes herself when she glances at you, but you only give her a hard stare. “Hello, I’m Lisa” 

“I’m Bucky...I got these for you, y/n said these were your favorites” he outstretched a bouquet of plumerias.

“Oh...Thank you so much, very thoughtful. Come in” Lisa moves out the way and you let Bucky walk ahead of you. You’re about to cross the doorway when you feel weedy fingers clasp your upper arm. 

“Are you out of your mind!” she whispers in your ear. 

“Can you atleast get to know him first” you tell her, catching yourself up with Bucky.

When you both were walking to the front door. The music, screaming children, so much noise was everywhere. You weren't sure how there wasn't a noise complaint from neighbours.

When you and Bucky enter the backyard to most of your family. It's like the scene from Shrek when the Kingdom meets Shrek and Fiona, as the music and everyone quiets down. You wish were joking. 

It wasn't hard to notice when everyone lit up at the sight of you and then saw the Winter Soldier right next to you. 

Bucky was trying to be patient, he was, but it was tiring getting the same reaction when you introduced him to your family. He could understand the shock of being in the same room as a murderer–– no that isn't him anymore or was never him to begin with. 

“And this is Bucky” every single time, that’s the line you used to introduce him. 

-

Now you both are at a rounded table in the shade. Your sister is next to you and her boyfriend.  Your aunt, her husband, and two of your closest cousins are around the table too. A plate of food in front of both of you, Bucky raves to your mom and aunt about how good the cooking is, warming your heart.

Other than that conversation flows like the sea, in a mismatched pattern. Your main priority being it doesn’t become too bare, but of course it all fails. But Bucky can only think about how the most affectionate one of the two (you) hasn’t tried to hold his hand once. Most likely isn’t appropriate to touch each other in front of her family, is what he comes up with. 

“So Bucky, how are you adjusting?” your sister asks.

Oh god.

“It’s going well, not everyday is easy, but I have help” he responds, smiling down at you. 

“Must be crazy how different times are, huh?” your uncle jumps in. 

“Definitely” he chuckles “All the tech is cool. I will say I thought the prices before were outrageous, but nothing beats now.”

“I’ll say” your uncle agrees. 

You sit back a grin on your face, enjoying the way conversation between everyone and Bucky flows. He was starting to get comfortable and your family was getting over their epiphany. He was making them––especially your uncle–– laugh which was an accomplishment in itself. 

“Did you have a lot of family or siblings growing up, Bucky?” your sister asks. 

You feel like you might lose your calm, why is she acting this way?

“Oh...uh. I think three. I know I had a little sister, Rebecca”

“You think?” the tilt in her voice doesn’t fly by you unnoticed. You flick her shoulder, mouthing a knock it off.

“When you’re under for so long things just start to fade y’know.” He informs her, a breathy laugh follows behind nervously as his leg bobs vigorously. 

She definitely didn’t know. No one around this table could relate. Not something the average person goes through, but Bucky wasn’t thinking too much when he let the last bit out. Everyone could see the result of that with the silence that made its way back. 

“How long have you guys known each other?” your aunt asks. You let out a breath of relief and gratitude.

“We’ve known each other for eight months” you answer.

You wish you could’ve taken Bucky’s words away next, “Dating for five” he publicized proudly. 

You shrink into yourself at the wide eyes and wilting postures of everyone around you. Of course, at that moment your mom your mom walked over. 

“Dating?!” 

“You’re dating each other” 

The shrill sound of their voices causes you to become more antsy. 

At that moment, everything clicks for him as he turns towards you, but you don't look at him. Keeping your vision on the food on your plate. 

“What?...Y/n.” you can hear the uncertainty in his voice when he calls out your name, but you won’t look at him and it’s pissing him off. 

“Y/n. Do they not know we’re together?” he asks and when you finally look at him and see the furrow of his eyebrows and the lines between them. His lips in a thin line and the grip he has on the table, the guilt goes from a bucket of water to a whole tsunami. 

Watching as your eyes wouldn't keep contact with him. Darting from his and to whatever was around him, is enough to answer his question. He stands up, he takes in how everyone gets startled and how your mother takes a step back. 

He scoffs before making his way through the house, out the door, waiting for you outside. 

You ignore the stares, keeping your head down. Rushing after Bucky. You find him standing against your car, arms crossed looking up at the sky. Taking notice of his clenched hands and the clinch of his jaw. 

“Bucky––” you start lightly. 

“I don’t want to talk right now” he swore, eyes staying ahead. 

“Well I think we should...I didn’t tell them because I didn’t want them to judge you before getting to know the actual you?”

“Were you even there?” he questions astonished, his head whipping towards you, at your claim. “That’s bullshit and you know it”

“It’s not! You’re seeing this with tunnel vision! I just wanted them to see you for you first”

“You’re embarrassed by me! You didn’t even tell your ma––god y/n, I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“I’m not embarrassed!” 

“You let go of my hand before we even walked in the house”

“Yeah so they wouldn’t know, so they could get to know you! Why aren’t you understanding?” 

You're getting frustrated and you know your voices are less than quiet. Standing in the middle of the driveway like banshees.

“You know how this shit is for me...What? So if it was Steve or fucking Sam you were bringing you wouldn’t have told your family?”

“That’s different! they’re praised wherever they go, people don’t see my bucky first they see the winter soldier. I’m sorry, but it’s true I was just trying to protect you” 

You try to hold back the tears on your face, your eyes stinging. With the way red rims his eyes, glazed over, and the rough breathing through his nose. You can tell he's trying to do the same. 

“Take me home” he demanded, it was the end for him and he had no reason to keep hearing you spew these excuses. 

“Buck?”

“I’m serious. Take me back to my apartment.” He looks away, the clue that you were going to bring him home were your footsteps distancing. 

You walk back in the house with a huff, making a beeline to the table where your bag and keys were. Thankful that the table was scarce except for your sister who watched you pick your things up, like mad. Her hand comes down on your phone when you go to grab it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You’re leaving?” she asks.

“Of course, I’m leaving Daisy. He wants to go home, no thanks to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you, what was up with your awful questions?” you question her.

“Excuse me for being surprised that my little sister brought an assassin to a family reunion. Let alone dating him?” she tells you, standing her ground. 

She's always been protective of you and you can understand that. Shifting the blame towards her won't do any good between you and Bucky anyway. But, you've also had enough and need to find a way to fix things. 

“I’ll call you later, tell mom I said bye” you tell her, taking a brisk glance. 

-

You both sat knee deep in silence. Everytime you tried to take a glance at Bucky he only looked ahead, saying nothing. Hand raising up, time to time, to wipe away a tear or two . When you were at a red light or stop sign , it gave you a chance to turn your head. But, everytime you tried to take a proper look at him he'd look out the window. Leaving you to turn your head back, your grip on the wheel tight.   

The moment you arrive at his complex and put the car in park, he hops out of the car. Never looking back, only grumbling, “Don’t bother calling. We’re done.”

“Bucky!” but the door slams shut and he ignores whatever you have to say. 

He meant that with every being in his heart. Any time you tried to call he let it ring until it came to the point where he blocked your number. You got the hint and hadn’t seen him since.

i’ve been sitting on this for sooo long, ofc my first bucky fic is angst

if you enjoyed this pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it<3

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter one

Betrayed

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: A bit of violence, a hint of PTSD

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

NOTE: This story is set post Endgame, but Natasha is still alive and Steve never went back in time to be with Peggy. Although I have always been a fan of creative writing, this is my first time writing based on any movies/series. Any feedback would be appreciated (: Enjoy!

*gif not mine

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER ONE- You

“ALERT: PERIMETER BREACH!”

The alert echoed through the rooms of the facility, waking everybody up at the ready for a fight. Natasha was the first one up and slowly sneaking out of her room, armed with a gun. She stopped at a door and opened it, Steve had his shield and was ready to follow her with a nod. They slipped into the hallway together. Bucky joined them, as well as Wanda. They all spread out and went down different hallways in teams.

“We have movement in the kitchen.” Nat whispered to her ear piece, which had Sam and Clint on the other end moving on the opposite side of the facility through the kitchen. They all stopped, looking into the dark room. Nothing was touched. Nobody was there. They slowly spread out into the kitchen, checking any corners where someone could be hiding.

Nat lowers her weapon and looks around at her teammates, who looked as confused as she was. They didn’t get false alarms. Nat suddenly looks down at her phone, which she was using to track movement in the facility.

“There’s definitely something moving around here.” She said, showing Steve. He looked as the dot bounced around the screen, shifting to different rooms. It was going through all their bedrooms, before stopping at the edge the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

Both Nat and Steve looked up to the edge of the hallway. Nat already had her gun pointed, ready to fire. The rest of the team gathered around the entrance, keeping their distant and following Steve and Nat’s lead.

“Whoever you are, come out now!” Steve demanded, stepping forward a few feet and squinting his eyes in the darkness.

The room paused for a moment as something was heard moving in the darkness. Out of the black, a pale foot popped into view, followed by another. A woman now stood in front of the avengers. She was shoeless, dirty, and pale. She was wearing black shorts and a light blue shirt which had mud and what looked like blood stains on them. Her hair was a mess, her face dirty. But her eyes... they glowed a deep red. The woman tilts her head, eyes locked on Steve. In her hand she held one of Steve’s dirty shirts from yesterday, twiddling it in her fingers.

“Steve...?” Y/N whispered from the shadows. She kept his shirt in her hands, gripping it so tightly that her fingers could tear it apart. Her voice was soft, meek.

Steve looked on confused as why the woman held his shirt, but when he looked at her face as she spoke his name, he rushed forward a few steps, waving his hand behind him for Natasha to lower her weapon, “Y/N?” He asks softly, continuing to walk towards her, “Turn off that alarm.” He said back to Nat, who quickly stopped the blaring alert that kept repeating perimeter breach. The room fell silent.

“Who is she, Steve?” Sam asked, approaching Steve slowly, keeping his eyes on the woman. He was still on defense as were the rest of the avengers.

“Y/N... my sister..” Steve said, continuing to slowly walk towards Y/N slowly with his hands outstretched to show he wasn’t a threat. He thought she was dead. Last he heard she was at boarding school with Bucky’s sister, Rebecca. When he came out of the ice he looked her up immediately. All that was on file was that she finished school, had a family, and passed away peacefully in her sleep. He obviously knew now that was a lie.

Bucky came out of the back, stepping into view from the darkness. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Y/N... it had been decades since he had seen you. His heart felt heavy as he observed her, seeing her dirty and covered in dried blood. Y\N was his sister’s best friend. Him, Steve, Bex (Rebecca), and Y/N were always around each other after Bucky and Steve met. He would always steal glances at her, noticing that she would also steal some glances at him and flutter her eye lashes at him. She was always so happy, laughing and tucking her hair behind her ear, looking up at him. He remembered before he was deployed, Y/N snuck out with him to watch the sunrise. She watched the sun kiss the sky, creating vibrant orange streaks. Bucky remembered watching her. The way the fresh rays hit her skin, watching her small, content smile. He didn’t want the moment to end but knew it was coming to a close. He had reached out and gently touched her hand with his fingertips, “Hey Doll, I’m going to need something to keep me motivated while I’m away,” he said gently, smiling softly as she accepted her hand into his. She turned to look at him, her large blue eyes locked on his, “What do you say about saving me a date when I come back?”

Y/N had smiled and nodded, moving her face closer to his, her eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes. Bucky leaned in as well, moving his free hand to gently touch her warm face with his fingertips, inviting her closer. They had shared one kiss that early morning when they watched the sunrise. But that was enough to have both of them hooked on each other. After he was deployed, they would write each other. She had told him her brother finally got accepted into the military, sharing small details of which Steve had told her in letters. Always signing them with xoxo and hearts. But then the letters stopped from Bucky and Steve. Y/N was heartbroken to not hear from her boys.

Now, Y/N was standing in front of him. Bucky was trying to muster up some words to speak, letting her know he was there too. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When he was back in his right mind after his return, he had looked her up also, wondering what became of her. He was given the same information Steve had. But obviously, something happened. She was young still, alive. “Y/N.. Doll, what happened?” Bucky finally found his words, moving to step closer to Steve, who was still slowly making his way towards his sister.

Y/N finally moved. Well, her eyes did. The deep red eyes flickered to Bucky at the sound of the new but familiar voice voice. Suddenly, her grip on Steve’s shirt tightened, pulling at the fabric. In the silence, everybody could hear it tear ever so slightly as a deep growl was heard coming from Y/N. Her eyes locked on Bucky’s face. Her gums slowly rose, her teeth showing which made the growling even more audible. “You....” was all that passed her lips, her eyes locked on Bucky’s face.

Y/N emotions changed quickly. She was soft, almost scared looking before. Now she looked threatening, angry. Small wrinkles appeared on her forehead as if she was frustrated. In a swift movement, Y/N lunged at Bucky. She was fast, really fast. Steve tried to grab his sister, but was pushed away with ease by her hand, throwing him across the kitchen and into the dining table. She had her hands outstretched at Bucky as she lunged at him. She almost had him in her grasp, and all she could think about was killing him. Shutting those blue eyes forever. But, as she got closer, an arrow hit her shoulder, shocking her. She froze and her body seized from the electricity, before dropping to the floor unconscious.

Bucky turned his attention to Hawkeye, who shrugged, “What? It got hostile real quick.” He said, walking to Nat’s side who had just stood there, confused by the whole ordeal that was unfolding in front of her. Steve sprinted back over to his now unconscious sister on the floor, shooting daggers with his eyes at Clint. He kneeled down, removing the arrow from her shoulder. Bucky leaned down as well, lifting his metal arm to sweep away some hair from her face. As soon as he touched her, Y/N eyes opened and locked with his again. She grabbed his metal arm, twisting it away from her and quickly jolted up towards Bucky. Her face buried in his neck, which almost looked like affection. But given that Bucky let out an audible yelp of pain, it obviously wasn’t. He pushed her off of him and into Steve’s arms, who held her tightly, trying to back her away from Bucky. Y/N was growling, struggling in her brothers arms as her eyes were still on Bucky, determined to rip him to shreds. Nat quickly moved, pushing three needles into Y/N’s neck, causing her to slowly slip into unconsciousness once again.

“You sedated her?” Steve asked, looking at Nat.

Nat looked at him, “Well duh.. did you prefer her trying to kill Bucky?” She said, waving her hand over at Bucky who had his hand to his neck, blood dripping between his fingers. Clint and Sam were immediately at Bucky’s side, assessing his wound. She had bitten into his neck, taking a small chunk with her. Clint and Sam started moving Bucky to get him to med-bay to assess the bite.

Steve picked his sister’s unconscious body up into his arms, turning and walking back down the hallway to his bedroom, placing her on the bed. Those sedatives should keep her down for a while, but then again so should have the shock from the arrow. He had never seen his sister so violent. Sure, he would see her stand up to bullies for him when they were younger. He was a scrawny kid who got beat up a lot, but as soon as his sister showed up she was always able to calm the bullies down with her charm to leave Steve alone when Bucky wasn’t there to save him. But she was never violent. Always kind with a smile on her face. He looked at her now. He never imagined seeing her this way. Dirty, broken looking. Her swept some hair away from her face as Bucky did, but she stayed unconscious.

“Wanda, Nat.” Steve called, knowing they were at his doorway watching, “Can you help get her cleaned up?” He said softly, his eyes not leaving his sister. He didn’t want to see her like this. She looked like she had crawled out of a grave. Crawled out of hell.

Nat nodded, disappearing down the hallway to get some clean towels to help wipe off the dirt.

“Of course.” Wanda said, quickly going to her room to get a change of clothes for Y/N. They looked about the same size of clothes.

Nat returned with a bowl of clean water and a couple medium sized towels, sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Steve, slowly dabbing away dirt from Y/N’s pale skin, “You know there’s going to be some questions when she wakes up..” Nat said, looking over at Steve who nodded, “I think we all have some questions.” He stated.

Wanda returned and picked up a clean towel, starting to help Natasha get rid of the dirt and dried blood. Wanda suddenly froze, looking at Steve and waving for Nat to back up a little bit, “She’s waking up.” Wanda stated.

Nat looked at her, “I gave her three sedatives. She shouldn’t be waking up so soon.” But backed off a little like Wanda said.

Steve took his sister’s hand, standing and hovering over her so he was the first one she would see. Her eyes opened, the red staring at him, “Steve...” a small smile came onto her lips, but as she noticed the two women in the room, she sat up, scooting away from them a little.

“Woah... Y/N, look at me.. Y/N, it’s okay.. they’re here to help. They’re my friends.” Steve said with a small smile for confidence, lifting his other hand to touch her face, “This is Natasha, and Wanda.” He said, introducing you to the women. “Would it be alright if they helped clean you up? You’re really dirty right now and it would make me feel better if you’d let them.”

Y/N looked at Wanda, then Natasha, listening to Steve. She nodded. Her whole demeanor had changed again. She wasn’t threatening at all, instead she seemed a little scared, timid. Wanda gave Y/N a comforting smile, “Come with me, Y/N, I’ll help you to the tub to clean you up. I got some clean clothes too.”

Y/N looked to Steve, as if to ask if it is safe. Steve nodded and slowly helped Y/N to her feet, walking with her down the hallway as Nat and Wanda lead the way. Nat opened the door to the large bathroom and turned on the tub, checking the temperature of the water. Wanda slowly reached her hand out to Y/N, as if to ask permission to help remove her dirty clothing. Y/N nodded to Wanda to accept her help, but then looked at Steve. Her nose scrunched, “Get out, Steve.” Y/N said.

“What? Y/N I’m not leaving.” Steve said, looking at her confused.

“You are not about to see me undress, get out.” Y/N repeated, giving her brother a look as she gestured to her clothes. She seemed almost normal again. She offered Steve a small smile, nodding, “I’ll be fine..”

Steve looked at Nat who nodded in agreement. Steve sighed, “I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”

Y/N nodded, watching her brother exit and the door shut behind him. She gave a small smile towards Wanda to let her know she can continue to help. Nat and Wanda helped Y/N remove her clothing. Some of it crusted to her skin from blood. It was obvious there had been some wounds on Y/N that caused this, but there were no open cuts. Just small silver scars on her body. Y/N slowly stepped into the warm water, sitting down. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them in the water. The clear water quickly started turning a brownish color from all the dirt and blood on Y/N’s skin. Nat and Wanda gently scrubbed her skin with sponges until they finally found pale skin underneath the grime. The two ladies helped Y/N wash her hair in silence. Nat was keeping a close eye on Y/N, still unsure what to think due to the fact she had attacked Bucky. But Y/N hadn’t made any threatening moves towards anybody else. It was like for that split moment she had turned into a totally different person, one full of rage and violence towards Bucky.

Wanda smiled at Y/N, “All clean!” She beamed, reached to unplug the drain to allow the dirty water to empty the tub. She grabbed a towel, holding it up for Y/N to step into. It was like Y/N was a totally different person beneath the filth. Nat and Wanda could now see the family resemblance with Steve.

“I’m going to go check on some things, Wanda will help you get dressed and anything else you need, alright Y/N?” Nat smiled and put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder in a comforting way. She then made her way towards the door, opening it slightly to leave but not enough to let Steve see into the bathroom.

“Thank you, Natasha.” Y/N said before Nat slipped out the door, then looked to Wanda, “Thank you, also.” She smiled slightly while Wanda unfolded the clean clothes and passed them to Y/N to get dressed. She quickly put the clothes on. Some dark grey sweat pants and a black T-shirt. They fit perfectly. “Thank you again, Wanda.” Y/N said, giving a smile to her.

Wanda smiled back, “Of course. Now let’s brush that hair.” She said, holding up the brush in her hand. Y/N turned around to allow Wanda to brush through her long blonde hair, detangling it. She stared at herself in the mirror. It was like a totally different person staring at her. She was clean, she looked normal. It left a small smile on Y/N’s lips seeing herself like this. Normal. Besides the red eyes staring back at her.

When they were finished with Y/N’s hair, they exited the bathroom. Steve looked at Y/N, smiling as she finally looked again like the sister recognized. He reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, leaning his head on the top of hers, his cheek now damp from her wet hair. Y/N smiled at the hug, wrapping her arms around her brother and hugging him back. It had been so long. She had missed him so much.

Steve led her back to his bedroom, thanking Wanda for the help before closing the door so the siblings could be alone. He watched as Y/N walked around his room, observing it. She looked at the pictures on the wall, the contents on his desk, taking in everything in the room. Steve stood there for a moment silently, letting her look around, before clearing his throat which brought Y/N’s attention back to him.

“Y/N. Can you tell me what happened? How are you here?” He asked, his voice soft and calm, caring.

Y/N stood silent for a moment, staring at her brother, before sitting down at the edge of the bed, “Am I in trouble?” She asks, looking down at the floor.

Steve shook his head, moving to sit by her, “No, no no Y/N. I just need to understand what happened... why you attacked Bucky and-“

Y/N flicked her head up, her red eyes staring at him, “DON’T!” She stopped him, her face twisting into an angry look again. She held up her palm and him to stop him from talking, “Don’t... say his name. He’s a traitor. He deserves everything he will get. He’s dangerous.”

Steve’s brow pulled together in confusion of why his sister snapped at the name. Why would she call him a traitor? They were best friends, and Steve swore they were closer than he wanted them to be. He remembered their flirtatious looks, the way they would steal glances at each other. She had never spoken ill of Bucky, what changed?

“What do you mean? He’s our friend, Y/N, remember?” Steve asked, careful not to say his name again to not set his sister off.

Y/N quickly stood, looking at him, “He is NOT our friend. He did this to me, Steve.” she said, her hands gesturing towards herself, “He’s the reason I’m like this.. he helped them create me...” her voice slowly got softer as she spoke, tears welling up in her eyes. “He tricked me, told me he came back from deployment and wanted to keep our promise. I stood there like an idiot, all dressed up. But then, he appeared. His eyes empty. He just grabbed me.. and... he took me to them...” she said, her right hand going up to grip the side of her head scrunching her freshly washed hair, her breathing quickening, “He stood by as I screamed... they played with my head... and he just watched... I called to him to save me and he turned his back on me... he... he...” she started to seem like she was hyperventilating, pacing around the room, gripping her head.

Steve stood quickly, pulling his sister into his arms again, shushing her softly to try and get her to calm down, “I’ll figure it out, Y/N. Just shh... calm down. Rest.” He said. He was able to get her to sit down on his bed, still hugging her until she fell asleep. He let her lay on his bed, tucking the blanket over her as she slept. He asked Wanda to keep an eye on her and let him know when she was waking up, to which Wanda nodded and sat in the chair next to the bed. There was something familiar about Y/N to Wanda, but she couldn't place how. Steve walked down the hall on his way to med-bay, a serious look on his face. He had to hear for himself if what his sister told him is true. He had to get some answers from his best friend Bucky.

[savemesomenachos]

Congratulations on 200 followers!!

Can I request a stucky x reader with angst prompts 5&7?

Angsty with a fluffy ending?

Nonnie, why are you doing this to my almost non-existent heart?! And also thank you💋

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

Drabble #5

Angst💔:

5. “Maybe you should just leave now.”

7. “Maybe, this is it coz I can’t do this anymore!”

Alternate Universe

AN: My 200 follower celebration event is officially CLOSED!!!

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: An unhealthy amount of angst and some fluff to help me lick my wounds at the end

Word Count: 1507

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” I hiss in frustration as I strip out of my gear. Bucky stands behind me and Steve at a careful distance, ready to intervene

“You were so fucking careless out there. Do you have any fucking idea what could have happened?” Steve screams as he looks up from his task of unlacing his boots.

“I’m not some dumb newbie agent Steve. I’ve been doing this for years. It was a calculated fucking risk,” I scream equally loud. I see Bucky visibly flinch at the tone of our rising voices.

“How about we all take a step back huh? Talk about this when we’ve cooled down,” Bucky says, stepping between the both of us with an arm raised in surrender.

“We’re not children Buck. Stop coddling us,” Steve says as he rises to his full height and glares at Bucky.

“Hey! Don’t talk to him that way. Besides, it’s not his fault you are an actual child,” I say as I push Bucky aside with a gentle nudge to the side but he doesn’t budge.

I can see that that particular statement makes Steve particularly mad. His nostrils flare in barely constrained anger and his pupils dilate to completely engulf the blue and darken to look like black holes.

“Maybe you should just leave now,” Steve jeers as his fists continuously clench and unclench at his sides.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” I whisper, my stance not softening for a second.

“Woah, no one’s going anywhere,” says Bucky, ever the mediator. “We’re gonna sit down like adults,” he pointedly glares at the both of us, “and talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to fucking talking about Bucky. I’m not a child and I refuse to be treated like one,” I say, marching to my wardrobe and grabbing a duffel bag.

“Y/n please, we can talk about this. He was just worried about you getting hurt,” Bucky pleads, moving closer to me and laying a comforting arm on my shoulder.

“Fuck no. I just wanted to make sure she doesn’t fuck up the mission with her recklessness,” Steve huffs, taking a seat on the bed.

My jaw tightens in frustration but for Bucky’s sake, I keep my mouth shut. I shovel some clothes in, determined to make a point.

“Shut the fuck up Steve,” Bucky hisses as he turns to look at Steve over his shoulder.

“It’s fine Bucky,” I say, moving around him and toward the door. “But I can’t be around him right now.”

“Good thing I feel the same fucking way,” Steve says from his seat at the foot of the bed.

“Shut the fuck up! Both of you!” Bucky screams, his anger spilling into the room, his voice reverberating in my chest.

“You know what?” He says as his gaze shifts between the both of us. “Maybe this is it coz I can’t do this anymore!”

We gape at Bucky like fish and the breath rushes out of me. Suddenly hearing Bucky say it causes a pit in my stomach.

“I can’t always be the mediator. Left to deal with your fights. I’m fucking tired. If you can’t even go a day without fighting then maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he whispers, his words sitting like a weight on my chest.

Tears form on my eyelashes and I look to Steve for help but he looks equally lost.

“I just…” he sighs, “I just need a break from all the fighting ok? And I can see that you both know I’m right so work this out. I’m going out with Sam.”

“Are we breaking up?” I whisper, my heart thumping in my ears. Steve’s gaze shifts to the floor where I see him biting his lip to hold in his tears, I think.

“You tell me,” Bucky says as he slips out the door quietly leaving the room in an eerie silence.

“Do you hate me?” I hear Steve’s whisper.

I toss my duffel aside and take the seat next to him on the bed, our thighs touching.

“I could never hate you. I just don’t like it when you fuss over me on a mission. It makes me feel incompetent.” I say, my fingers knotting together nervously.

“That was never my intention. What Bucky said was true. I just wanted to protect you Me and him? We’ve seen and done so much shit and I never want you to be a part of that. To have nightmares that never let you sleep,” he says, shifting closer to me, his hand trailing across my thigh, clasping my hand in his.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, our fingers entwining. “But I don’t want you to do that. I wanna protect you too but I don’t wanna get in your way either. You think you could maybe… do the same? Protect me without coddling me?” I ask, tightening my grasp on his hand.

“Yeah, I can,” He says, his warm, dirty hand cupping my cheek.

His thumb strokes my lip as he turns to face me completely. He draws me to my chest with a hand on the back of my head and I lean in without hesitation.

“We fight a lot huh?” he asks, his fingers drawing circles on my partially bare waist.

“I guess,” I say as I sigh against his chest while my fingers play with the buckles on his pant clad thighs.

“I think we really need to work on communicating more,” I say after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, we will. I promise,” he whispers against my cheek as he tips my chin up to his face. I see the blue return and I drown in them.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks as he leans closer to my face while he twirls a piece of my hair around his finger.

“Like you have to ask,” I whisper, a breath away from his plush, pink lips. He closes the distance between us and kisses me.

My fingers tangle in his dirty blonde locks and tug. He moans but I swallow any sound that follows. I straddle his thighs, needing to be closer and he understands. He wraps and arm around my waist and settles me on his lap and both his arms wind around my back.

“Wait,” I pant as I pull away from the kiss which makes Steve whine. “How are we gonna make it up to Bucky?” I ask, getting up from Steve’s lap and pacing the room.

“How about sex?” Steve says casually, leaning back on his elbows.

“Steve! I’m serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“No! It has to be words,” I say as I stand in front of him and tug on his hands.

He straightens and wraps his arms around my waist while burying his face in my stomach with a hearty chuckle.

“Ok,” he says with a sigh, “we’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

*time skip*

“I see you’ve made up,” I hear Bucky’s voice before I see him. I shoot up from bed where me and Steve lay cuddled and rush to him.

My arms immediately wrap around his broad frame and I bury my face in his firm chest.

“I’m sorry Bucky. We shouldn’t have dragged you into the fight,” I say. “And I shouldn’t have been mean, it was uncalled for,” Steve continues.

“We talked about things and we know we fight a lot and never communicate. But from now on, we promise we will,” I say, pulling away to look at him.

“It’s not fair you always have to be mediator and I’m sorry I upset you,” Steve says as he round the corner of the bed and stands in front of Bucky, his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” I say, shifting closer to Steve.

“Ok,” Bucky says as he moves deeper into the room. Steve’s head snaps up at his response and we stare at each other, dumbfounded.

“Ok?” I tentatively ask as I follow Bucky, Steve hot on my heels.

“Yeah, ok. What did you expect?” he asks, stripping himself off his Henley and tossing it into the hamper.

“We thought…” Steve trails off as he looks to me for help.

“What?”

“We thought you were gonna break up with us,” I breathe as my heart hammers against my chest.

“What?!” he asks incredulously. “Fuck no. I love the both of you but you needed to figure some shit out.”

“But you said-”

“I exaggerated, obviously. I didn’t mean to. It slipped. So I guess I’m sorry too,” he says, cupping each of our cheeks in his hand and drawing us both closer for a kiss simultaneously.

He pulls away and slips out of his pants and launches himself on the bed while me and Steve stare at him.

“Cuddles?” he asks, draping himself elegantly across the bed with a pout on his lips.

“I… don’t even know what to say,” I sigh as I shuffle toward Bucky and his outstretched arms.

“I do. FUCK YOU BUCKY!”

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Stucky: @spookyparadisesheep @marvelatthisone @Eviegall

*if your username is in italics and with a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason*

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

[forzalando]

goodbye kiss | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader word count: 1.2k warnings: mentions of anxiety (briefly), mentions of a head injury (briefly), cursing, mentions of food/eating a/n: this is a fluffy steve fic i've had finished for literally forever and i just never posted it bc i thought no one would read my marvel stuff hahahaha here it is. maybe there will be a part 2 to this....if anyone wants it :)

summary: Steve and Y/N are so clearly infatuated with one another, but oblivious as can be. One morning, Steve's shocking behavior may shift their relationship.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Steve and Bucky called out in sync as they barreled through the doorway of your shared home.

Every morning was practically the same; wake up at 5:00am because Bucky couldn’t be quiet if his life depended on it, start breakfast at 7:00am right as Steve and Bucky get back from their run (and pretend like you just woke up), shower at 7:40am, and start heading to the compound at 8:30am.

The consistency helped with Bucky’s anxiety, as well as your memory issues from a head injury you had sustained a while back on a mission.

Steve was just Steve, and he ran a ship tighter than his ass and his workout shirts that you knew for a fact ripped after their third or fourth wear.

The three of you worked and lived together, mostly in tandem, but occasionally something would happen that derailed the balanced home life you all strived for. It was usually minor; ‘accidentally’ eating someone’s leftovers, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, playing music too loud at night, etc.

But sometimes…sometimes it was the way Steve looked at you across the dinner table that made you nervous around him for days. Sometimes it was the way your fingers found their way into his sandy blonde hair after a stressful week. Once, about a month ago, it was because he walked into the bathroom not knowing you were taking a bath. And most recently, it was the casual comment made by Bucky about how he was sick and tired of you and Steve dancing around your feelings for one another like “the fuckers in the Russian Ballet”.

Eventually, the awkward period would fade away and things would return to their normal, harmonious ways, with Bucky grumbling all the while about your cowardice.

“What do you have for us today, doll?” Bucky called out as he exited his bedroom.

“I think I have a cold so you and Steve are getting scrambled eggs and toast because it requires minimal effort. Also, we’re now out of eggs. And bread.”

“I just bought three cartons and a loaf two days ago,” Bucky groaned as he slumped against the counter.

“You and your buddy Steven consume a carton each so either eat less or shop more. Take your pick, Barnes.”

He walked behind you and snatched the spatula from your hand, scooping some eggs into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

“I choose to shop more.”

You quickly grabbed the spatula back and shooed him away before he turned your pristine kitchen into a crumb filled nightmare.

“Steve,” you shouted indignantly, “breakfast is ready and I do not have time for your slow ass today.”

Bucky grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, and immediately after, a loud crash echoed from across the house. Bucky shrugged his shoulders in response, pretending to be unaware of whatever could have caused Steve to wreak accidental havoc so early in the morning. It certainly was not his whispered comment, loud enough for only a super soldier’s ears, about how you surely had time for anything to do with Steve’s ass.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve huffed as he shuffled out of his room.

“What the hell happened in there?”

“I, uh, mis-stepped and tripped over my bed frame, no big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and graciously stepped away from the stove, accepting Steve’s good morning hug and forehead kiss with a dopey smile.

A strangled gag interrupted your precious moment, and you shot daggers at Bucky while he shoveled his breakfast into his mouth like he was starved.

“Sorry, egg must have went down the wrong pipe. Continue your love fest.”

“It’s not a love fest, Buck,” Steve mumbled as a heated blush crept up his neck.

“Then how come I don’t get tender hugs and forehead kisses every morning?”

“Because you don’t cook me breakfast and Y/N is much more kissable.”

Steve froze while Bucky, the cheeky bastard, chuckled into his perfectly buttered toast. You quickly composed yourself and patted Steve reassuringly on the back, laughing along with Bucky.

“I wouldn’t want to kiss Bucky’s ugly mug either, Rogers.”

The rest of breakfast was silent; the sounds of clinking forks and satisfied sighs seemed like exploding C4 and gusts of wind in the cozy kitchen. After finishing your breakfast of hot tea with lemon and honey, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. Before, you felt that it was just a little cold, but the longer you were upright and moving around, the more sick you felt.

“We don’t have anything important planned today, do we?” You asked while hobbling towards the couch.

“Not that I know of, are you alright, doll?” Steve inquired, concern evident in his eyes.

“It’s probably just a head cold but will you tell Stark I’m calling in sick today? I don’t even have the energy to send him a text right now. Plus, I don’t want to deal with him telling me this wouldn’t happen if I took his prototype horse pill, super food vitamins.”

“I’ll let him know,” Steve mumbled affectionately as he draped a blanket over your shivering frame.

In a matter of minutes, he and Bucky were headed out the door; Steve with his briefcase and Bucky with his reusable grocery bag he deemed secure enough for sensitive documents.

When the door shut, you closed your eyes, relishing in the quiet, empty space you would have to yourself for the next 9 hours, until a sharp ringtone pierced your eardrums and ignited a monstrous headache.

Steve’s phone buzzed upon the kitchen table and you groaned; his forgetfulness never ceased to amaze you. You dashed across the room, hoping and praying that he and Bucky hadn’t already driven away. After flinging open the door to your house, you crashed directly into what you knew to be Steve Rogers’s insanely muscular chest.

“I forgot my….” He trailed off, noticing that you had it in your hand while simultaneously taking note of the annoyed expression on your face.

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders, Steven. I feel incredibly overworked and under appreciated looking after you.”

He threw his head back and laughed, the sound momentarily easing the pounding headache behind your eyes.

“You’re definitely not under appreciated doll,” Steve murmured as he took his phone from your outstretched hand. “Don’t forget to take some cold medicine, it’s in the hall bathroom cabinet behind Bucky’s aftershave. I’ll bring home some soup and a movie.”

Before you could thank him, he dipped his head and captured your lips in a delicate kiss. However, all too soon, he backed away with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“Did you just…” you gasped.

“I’ll see you tonight, bye!” He shouted before taking off in a sprint and bounding down the front porch steps.

You watched him from the window as he awkwardly ran back to his car. Just before he opened the door, he turned around and locked eyes with you. You blew him a kiss, as dramatically as you could, and smiled as he laughed and ducked into the driver’s seat.

The sensation of vibrating pulled your attention away from Steve and you reached into your pocket for your phone, swiping across the new text message.

From: Bucky Barnes

I. Saw. Everything.

taglist: @gredmforge @vogueweasley @gcdricreads @nuttytani @kaye-lantern @barnesjamcs @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @fallingforyou123 @phoenixes-and-wizards @gloryekaterina @hannahmeyer1999 @beautyschoo1dropout @loonylovegood13 @saara-sanders @le-weasley-simp @peachypotter @omghufflepuff @weelittleweasley (if your url has a strikethrough, I was unable to tag you! please let me know if you would like to be added to my marvel taglist and thank you for reading!!)

[sergeantxrogers]

| confused all the time |

Summary: Bucky’s back, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (post CA:TWS)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, violence, slight TW for physical abuse (but not really), just a shit ton of crying because apparently I can’t have a fic without some hurt/comfort

__________________________________

"It was him, I just know it. I would bet my life on it."

Steve ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, pacing the floor of your shared bedroom.

You sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and frowning. You were worried for him, you really were. Of course, you trusted Steve, with your life practically, and you believed him, but seeing him in this state made you upset.

Apparently, seeing his best friend after decades of thinking he was dead hadn't affected him very positively. There's also the small additional fact that he, the aforementioned best friend, had no idea who Steve was. After finding him on the river bank, last seeing him falling through the sky along with the rubble into the water, lids heavy and barely breathing, soaking wet and cold, it had taken you several days to bring him out of the state of shock he was in.

He had kept insisting it was Bucky who had dragged him out of the water; kept insisting that he saw the hesitation in his eyes before he threw the final punch; kept insisting he had recognized him. You pulled him through every claim with silent nods and the occasional "I know, babe".

Today was different though. It had been 8 days since the incident on the helicarrier, and Steve had been losing his mind bit by bit everyday trying to piece together the how, when and why of the whole situation. Which brought you to right now, watching him shut his eyes and let out deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

"How is it even..," he started quietly. You got up on your knees and moved over to the edge of the bed, leaning a bit to reach out to him.

"I saw him fall," he stated blankly, taking your outstretched hand mindlessly, interlacing your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek and tilted your head at him.

"Stevie...," you began, and he pulled his hand from yours suddenly.

"I saw him, Y/N, I couldn't see anything else for months. I couldn't sleep because all I could see were his eyes losing hope and all I could hear was him screaming."

You nodded slightly, getting up off the bed and slowly making your way a couple steps over to him.

"So how? How? I know it's him, I just can't, for the life of me, understand how," he said desperately as his head shot up to make eye contact with you. You let out a deep sigh as you grabbed his hands in your own, trying to give him some sense of stability, if only for a split second. You admit, it was very hard to believe, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried that Steve had lost his mind completely; it had only been a matter of time, honestly, considering everything he'd been through. You had no idea how to talk to him about this, but you knew you should approach the subject lightly.

"Steve, honey, I know you must miss him a lot, and I know it was a horrible thing for you to see him... go like that... but-"

His eyes that were previously burning holes into the floor shot up to meet yours, seemingly furious.

Okay, so maybe it could've been approached even lighter. Oops.

"But? But what?" he challenged, daring you to finish the sentence. In all honestly, you had no idea where you were planning on going with it, but now you were nervous. Very, very nervous.

Steve had this incredulous are you kidding me look he gave people when they said something stupid or rude. It was one of those looks where the disappointment was obvious and whoever it was directed at felt immediate regret. The look of God's Righteous Man and America's Golden Boy, and all that. And you were sure as hell feeling that regret right about now.

"Go on, finish your sentence, honey," he ended on a sarcastic note, pulling away from you to cross his arms. You felt your stomach clench as he leaned his head back to look down at you, raising a brow in waiting.

You swallowed, and shook your head slowly, not knowing what to say. You just wanted to help him, but seeing Bucky like that had made him act like a completely different person ever since. He was frustrated all the time, he tended to roll his eyes at people way more than appropriate, and he always got lost in his thoughts, not registering anything or anyone around him for hours at a time. Nobody knew what to expect from him at any given moment, which is what made your pulse pick up speed. You weren't necessarily afraid of him; Steve would kill himself before he ever deliberately hurt you, but you hated confrontation of any kind.

Steve took a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. Your brows furrowed as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, racking through your brain for something to say to diffuse the situation before it got too out of hand.

"Steve, I'm just... worried about you," you let out honestly.

"You haven't been sleeping... you haven't been eating as much as you should, you've been snapping at people who are just trying to help you..."

You caught the way his nostrils flared slightly at the last part, before he took another wide step in your direction. You took another step back. He did it again, but this time when you stepped back, you were met with the cool surface of the wall against you.

"Baby...," he says lowly, lowering his head to meet your eyes at the same level, "... do you, by any chance, think I'm overreacting? Or do you maybe not believe me?"

Clenching your teeth, you wanted nothing more than to reach your arms out and have him fall into them, but you knew it wasn't the right situation for it. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before speaking.

"No, you know I believe you. You know I'll always be by your side, right or wrong, it's just... you've been so preoccupied with this that it's changing you."

Steve's jaw tensed and he closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"I'm just so confused all the time," he whispered, just barely.

"I know, baby, I know," you cooed, and you brought your hands up to hold his face.

The minute your fingers made contact with his skin, he snapped.

"Stop saying you fucking know, Y/N!" he yelled, slamming the wall to the left of your head with each word, and your heart jumped. You flinched, drawing your hands into yourself immediately, turning your head away from his hand.

"You don't fucking know anything I'm going through, nobody does and I just want some goddamn answers!" he continued furiously.

You felt tears in your eyes and heard Steve take deep breaths. You didn't know what had shocked you more, the fact that Steve swore, the close proximity of his hand to your head or the fact that he had finally cracked, nonetheless, at you.

Your hands shook ever so slightly at your sides as you refused to open your eyes. Steve's labored breaths slowed, and you heard his hands slide down and off the wall. Feeling him step away from you, you opened your eyes just a bit. It was enough to see him looking at you with regret in his eyes. You saw the clarity flood them as his bottom lip trembled; he was about to cry at what he just did.

Your body filled with worry as you surged forwards, arms reaching out to him, but he held his own up and quickly moved away from you. You stood there, both of you worried, eyes filled with tears, hands held up in surrender and hopelessness. It was quiet. Quieter than what you were used to with Steve, and you didn't like it.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he brought one hand up to his hair, pulling at it, a habit he had when he was frustrated with himself. Turning his head away from you, he went to sit on the bed and rested his head in his hands.

You followed him. You knew he didn't plan for that to play out the way it did, so you weren't mad. But you also knew he was mad at himself now, for letting himself go that far. Feeling you come closer, Steve's head shot up from his hands and he quickly shook his head.

"No-" he choked out, holding his hand out to stop you from coming any nearer, afraid of hurting you. The sight of him made your heart hurt, and you felt cool air on the wet streaks your tears left behind on your face as you walked to stand straight in front of him, pushing his hand away.

He kept pushing you back with his hand, and you kept pushing it away from you, determined to hold him even if it was the last thing you'd ever do.

He let out continuous whimpers: "stop", "please don't", "I'm so sorry", "I can't-".

Your hands trembled as you pushed his hand away harder than before.

"Steven, fucking stop it," you said through clenched teeth, pushing at his hands, hating the way the two of you must've looked, and hating the way he was retreating into himself, too scared to even look you in the eyes.

You finally managed to drop to your knees in front of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and you rested your hands on his knees.

"Stevie, it's oka-," you started.

Cutting you off, he took a deep, trembling breath and slid off the bed. His legs on either side of you, head hanging low, he timidly ran his hands up your thighs and over your hips, bringing them to rest loosely on your waist. Grabbing his head and lifting it so you could look at him better, he let out a deep, pained whine when his eyes met your own.

"Everything is just so much," he whispered and brought his head forward to rest against your chest, moving his arms to wrap around your waist. Another wave of tears washed over you and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, placing a soft kiss to his hair.

"I'm just so tired," he whined out into your chest, the words vibrating deep in your soul, and you pinched your eyes shut to keep anymore new tears from falling.

Nodding silently, you stroked the back of his head softly.

You placed another kiss on his head, humming through it, rocking side to side slowly. He was going to beat himself up about this for a long, long time, you just knew it. Your travelled down to his back, tracing patterns on it as his breath steadied.

"It's okay... it's okay," you mumbled into his hair, barely audible, but the kisses you felt him leaving on your chest showed you he heard.

You sat there for an hour, rocking him back and forth, until he fell asleep.

You sat there for another as he slept, until your back was sore and your legs were numb.

You didn't care though, Steve had done the same and more for you countless of times. He was always there, as were you.

No, you didn't understand what he was going through, he was right about that part. But, feeling his body relax into yours, feeling the grip he had on your waist loosen, feeling his breath go steady, feeling the wet spots on your shirt where his tears had soaked through, you were determined to try.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking For A Place to Happen 6

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, drunkenness, some content not warned.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: The second last chapter of Sam for y’all! 

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 6: Making stops along the way

💀💀💀

You laid on your side and hugged the covers as the bed shifted beside you. Sweaty, sore, exhausted, and the sun was only just dimming beyond the window. Sam’s broad back tensed as he sat up and stretched his arms above him. You could still feel him inside you, not that any reprise lasted long.

He said nothing as you heard the knock again. You barely noticed before but the pounding got louder as Sam pulled on grey jogging pants and chuckled. You groaned and hid your face against the duvet. Every move sent a thrumming pain through you, and agonized emptiness you resented.

Your knee hit the toy as it rolled against you and you flinched. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if it was him or the silicone stretching you. How had it only been a few hours? It felt like you’d been there for days.

“Damn it,” the voice grumbled from the other room, low and muffled by the wall, “I told you I was coming by.”

You recognized it from that fateful night at The Asp; deep and sinister. As brief as your encounter with the man, you could guess he was rarely anything but irritable.

“Calm down,” Sam replied lightly, “I got other things to do…”

“You got business,” Bucky retorted.

“Money’s in the bag,” you heard a soft rustle and a harrumph.

“Should’ve brought it direct,” Bucky complained.

“I’ve been taking care of your other problem,” Sam countered smoothly as you heard heavy footsteps move around the front room.

“I see that,” Bucky mused, his voice clearer, closer.

You lifted your head and quickly hid your bare leg and ass under the blanket. He chuckled as Sam neared and crossed his arms over his thick chest.

“She knows the rules now,” Sam said, “got it all under control.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his chin and turned to Sam, “yeah, yeah, well… my girl…”

“Nice woman… stubborn like you,” Sam remarked.

“Stubborn’s a word for it. She’s, uh, concerned,” he said carefully, “about the girl. Says she’s young--”

“Not deaf either,” you sat up as you clung to the duvet.

He squinted at you and you flinched. Sam glanced at you and tapped a finger against his lips for you to be quiet.

“You know Steve’s girl is having that little thing at the bar. Her birthday or some shit.”

“Steve won’t shut up about it,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“He’s sweet on her. Too sweet.” Bucky sniffed, “Anyway, bring the girl, need mine to stop worrying.”

“Ah, sure, when was it again?”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky jutted his jaw out, “actually…” he peeked over at you as he thought, “take her by my lady’s place. The girls will be there getting all dolled up.”

“I’m busy--” you began and Bucky snapped his fingers at you.

“You said she knew the rules,” he pointed at Sam, “maybe you should remind her before I have to see her again.”

He turned and you saw his leather jacket as he stomped away, seizing a leather bag from the coffee table as he passed. The door slammed in his stead and Sam leaned against the wooden frame to look at you. He shook his head and sighed.

“Don’t know what it is about that man and women,” he gave a smirk, “but y’all sure do like to take the piss out of him.”

💀

It was easy enough to find any house in Birch, there were only so many. As you were realising too late, this was detrimental, not just to you but many in the thrall of the club’s clutches. There was no place to hide from those men and their cruelty.

He handed you your phone back before he let you go. He warned that you better use it wisely. He would meet you at the bar later; you were to make your way over with the group of women you didn’t know.

You neared the front door of the yellow house and knocked. You waited nervously, the cold air slipping in under your long jacket. A woman opened the door and you wondered if you were at the wrong place. Typical. You could even get lost in Birch.

“Oh, you must be the last,” she chimed, “I’m Mel.”

You smiled and awkwardly gave your name. She beckoned you inside and you added your boots and coat to those already by the door. You dressed for the occasion, Sam approved of the outfit with a growl after advising you to wear something slutty. You hadn’t worn the tight leather leggings and the strappy crop top since your club days in your two years of community college.

Mel looked you over but made no remark on your attire as she pointed up the stairs, “to the left, you’ll hear them.”

You ascended and the low hum of 90s music and female voices reached you from the slightly open door just down the hall. You neared and knocked as you waited tentatively. You knew Bucky’s girl from the bar but never had the chance to talk to her. You never did well with strangers, always the weird one, the funny one.

“Hey,” Bucky’s girl swung open the door, “just in time.”

“Um, hi,” you stepped into the small bedroom, “I brought tequila.”

You held up the bottle as you peered around. The mechanic was on the bed, her brows arched sardonically as she watched the quiet baker girl that sat at the slim desk and checked her appearance in a hand mirror. She hovered a stick of eyeliner in front of her face but never made contact with her skin as she bared her teeth. You put the bottle down on the corner of the dresser.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she wisped but quieted at her name as Bucky’s girl introduced them, “oh, hi.”

You smiled and stared quietly. You chuckled nervously and rung your hands. “Did you need help? I’ve watched some, um, Youtube stuff on it--”

“Sure,” she lowered the mirror in defeat, “I just don’t wanna mess it up.”

“That’s a lame present,” the mechanic said, “make-up? When you don’t even use it? I always knew Steve was a bitch--”

“At least he got me something,” she handed over the stick of liner as you neared and Bucky’s girl pushed a cushioned chest up from the corner for you to sit, “my pa never did.”

“Just because he’s less of an ass than your pa doesn’t mean he’s not an ass,” the mechanic spat as she pulled at the front of her stiff dress, black with little gems set into the fabric.

“Oh, and look at you, wearing that clown suit,” Bucky’s girl intoned, “we’re all in the same boat.”

“What kinda look you going for?” you asked as you cleared your throat.

“I… don’t know, something pretty,” she smiled meekly.

You nodded and looked over your shoulder at the bottle of tequila. You peeked back at the girl as she squirmed nervously.

“We should do some shots,” you said, “it’s your birthday, right? You should have fun… try to relax.”

“Her, relax?” The mechanic scoffed.

“Shots sound good, I’ll get some glasses,” Bucky’s girl said from behind you.

She left and you asked the baker to close her eyes. You held her head carefully as you stretched her eyelid and traced it carefully. It was much easier to do on someone else. You added a little wing and balanced out her other eye before you sat back.

Bucky’s girl plunked four short amber shot glasses on the dresser and poured as you went over the gift bag full of make-up with Steve’s girl. She chose a rosy shade of pink that you gently applied to her lips.

Bucky’s girl handed out the glasses. The mechanic didn’t flinch or wait before she downed hers. Steve’s girl frowned as she took hers and you gave a thank you as you accepted a glass. 

“I can already feel the burn,” the baker girl bemoaned.

“Come on, loosen up,” you raised your shot and downed it, “jeez, how old are y’all?”

“Old enough to know better,” Bucky’s girl said, “you know, you really got yourself in the shit but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you.”

“Oh you mean the local den of assholes,” you snorted, “shot, shot, shot.”

You encouraged Steve’s girl until she reluctantly knocked back the tequila. You took her glass and your own and went to the dresser. You refilled them and offered her the second.

“You really don’t learn,” the mechanic blinked.

“No, I do but I’d rather be drunk and miserable than sober and miserable,” you raised your shot, “and you guys, this,” you pointed to them, “the look, sure you got some years but you’re still young enough. You needa show some skin.”

“It’s below zero,” Bucky’s girl narrowed her eyes.

“The tequila will keep you warm,” you nudged Steve’s girl and mirrored her as you drained your shot.

“She’s gonna get us all killed,” the mechanic muttered.

“No, I’m gonna get you lit,” you grabbed the bottle and turned up the little speaker in the corner before shimmying over to her. You filled her glass and took a swig directly from the bottle, “also, I can hardly feel anything anymore.”

💀

“I’m telling you,” you slurred, “you can’t wear that! We stop by my place and I’ll get you the look.”

“The look?” Bucky’s girl interjected, “you mean the hypothermic style?”

“My nan has more style than all of you,” you stumbled off the main road away from the bar, “come on!”

“We’re gonna be late,” Steve’s girl squeaked.

“For what? It’s your birthday,” you grabbed her hand and ran ahead.

The other two followed a few feet back as you led them down to your nan’s house. You dragged her up the steps and leaned heavily on the door as you burst through. The smell of cigarette smoke met your nostrils as your grandmother appeared in the door of the front room and puffed as she watched you sway.

“Nan!” you dropped the baker girl’s hand and outstretched your arms as you grandmother swiftly sidestepped you and sucked on her cigarette.

“I see you’ve made friends,” she tutted, “try not to make a mess of my house or you’ll be cleaning it up, drunk or not.”

“We won’t be here long, we just need clothes… you got any of that wine left?”

“No more for you, girly,” she chided.

“Girls, girls, girls,” you turned back, “this is my nan. She kills bikers.”

“Shut your mouth, girly,” your grandma snarled, “you might be three sheets to the wind but words carry.”

“Do you?” the mechanic spoke up, more and more quiet as she imbibed.

Your nan gave her a long look. There was a moment of silence, understanding, commiseration. The old lady shrugged and tilted her head.

“I haven’t messed with bikers since 1978 and I don’t plan on starting again,” she butted out the cigarette in the empty coin tray on the console table, “go on, get what you need and get out.”

“Ugh, fine,” you moped away and waved the girls up the stairs behind you. 

You leaned heavily on the railing as you ascended and they followed behind you in disorder, several times supporting each other in the climb. Inside your room, you pulled open your closet and looked at the impulse purchases you never had a chance to wear. You don’t know why you bought them, they were all cheap and generic, but you were always a sucker for a sale.

“Here,” you handed the mechanic as shiny silver top with straps, “I should have something to go with it.”

You handed out clothes like candy, some of the tags still attached so you ripped them off clumsily. The mechanic ended up in the silver top and black pleather leggings, Bucky’s girl in dark blue dress with cutouts that you ordered in the wrong size, and Steve’s girl in no more than bright red bra and some high rise jeans.

“We’re gonna freeze,” Bucky’s girl whined.

“Suck it up and put your coat on,” you snapped, “now, we’re ready for fun!”

“Steve’s not gonna like this,” the baker moaned.

“You need more alcohol! Who gives a shit what he thinks?” The mechanic nudged her, “he’s a prick.”

“They’re all pricks,” Bucky’s girl giggled, “what’s this?”

You turned as she pulled out the bottle of Smirnoff hidden in your top drawer. It was still sealed because you didn’t like the grape flavour but she quickly broke the plastic. She took a gulp and scrunched her face as she held it out to Steve’s girl.

“No more, it’s too much!”

“If only Thor hadn’t dragged his girl off,” Bucky’s girl pushed the bottle to Steve’s girl’s lips, “but we gotta make up for her, don’t we?”

“Shit, shit,” the mechanic chuckled and grabbed the bottle as the baker struggled to swallow, “we’re gonna get in some shit, girls.”

“Is that idiot ever happy? Loki? What a dumb name?” Bucky’s girl snarled.

“They all suck,” you added.

“Ugh, don’t get me started on Sam,” the mechanic wiped her glistening lips, “preying on a kid.”

“I’m not… not a kid,” you hiccuped.

“You didn’t know who Aaran Carter is,” Bucky’s girl said, “you’re a kid.”

You laughed and took a swig and cringed at the burn of the vodka, “I’m an adult.”

“Sure don’t act like it,” the mechanic said loudly.

“Who gives a fuck? Tonight, we don’t,” Bucky’s girl said, “come on, let’s go see those bastards and show ‘em we don’t fuckin’ care.”

You snickered as you found your coat where you left it on the bed and the lot of you staggered down the back steps and around the house. The winter air crawled over you and sent a shiver up your spine. You hardly felt it in the warm glow of the alcohol; not the cold, not the dread that had lingered for days, not even the regret. You were completely and pleasantly drunk out of your mind.

[tempestaurora]

in another time, a gladiator stucky au by @tempestaurora​

image IDs under the cut

IMAGE ID:

FIRST IMAGE: 

i.

 Sunlight dappled across the stone floor, casting cool, dancing shadows in the summer heat. Bucky yawned and stretched, flexing his toes into the sunspots and smiling from the warmth. He watched the newest boy to the school, a scrawny thing called Steve, stand alone in the courtyard.

He tipped his head to the side and called out, “New boy! Over here!”

Steve had straw blonde hair and eyes like the Aegean Sea. He seemed hesitant for a moment before heading over. When he arrived, he looked at Bucky like he might bite, but after sitting, he simply melted into the sunspot Bucky had found.

“You’re pretty small,” Bucky observed. “Your family sell you?”

“What? No, they didn’t.” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed; he seemed insulted by the mere notion. “Your family sell you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Indentured, actually,” he replied. “But they’re practically the same thing. Why are you here, then? You have dreams of being a gladiator?”

Steve scoffed. “No. I don’t. But it was either this or live on the streets.” He paused, twisting his fingers into his tunic. “My mater died, recently. She was all I had.”

Bucky stilled. “Oh,” he said. “Perhaps she is better off now; perhaps she is in the Land of Joy.”

Steve nodded, barely. “There are few places better than the underworld, these days.”

SECOND IMAGE:

ii.

Steve may have been small, but he was fast. He twisted and turned in combat, picked up the skills with ease, and learnt to use his size to his advantage. If he got hit, he was down, so Steve learned to avoid the punches thrown his way.

They trained year-round, through summer heat and winter snow, and soon they grew. Everything Steve learned about being small and fast was discarded when he hit his growth spurt at fourteen, suddenly taller than half his class and finally able to make the attacks, not simply dodge them. He watched Bucky often; the two of them nigh inseparable since his arrival at the school. Bucky was not a golden student, but he was a golden boy; his eyes were like Jupiter’s sky and his hair grew thick and dark in a shaggy mess.

There were few things Steve found himself caring about more than the only boy in all of Italia who knew him, inside and out.

[Beneath is a photo of  the ruins of a temple of Saturn, backlit by the sun. It is ethereal and quiet-looking, with green fields interspersed with crumbled architecture.]

THIRD IMAGE: 

iii.

 They had climbed up onto the roof of the gymnasium to gaze at the sweep of stars painted high above their town.

“Do you think you’ll be up there one day?” Steve whispered in the dark.

“In the sky?”

“The stars,” Steve clarified. “All the great heroes are immortalised in the stars.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be a hero – there’s not a drop of godly blood in me. What about you?”

“I don’t want to be a hero,” Steve replied. “I just want to travel; to see all of Italia and beyond. Pompeii and Corinth – maybe even see the Oracle of Delphi, one day.”

Bucky smiled. “I’d like that. I don’t want to be fighting forever.”

“Come with me,” Steve said. “We could go anywhere. We could go everywhere.”

Bucky stared at Steve under the star-lit sky and smiled.

FOURTH IMAGE:

iv.

                                        When they were eighteen, they moved to Rome. The Ludus Magnus gladiator school sat in spitting distance of the coliseum, and this was where they trained. They had long been learning their preferred style of combat – Steve, after shooting up and broadening, fought as a Thracian, with his broad-rimmed helmet, small rounded shield and curved sword. His only armour consisted of thigh-length grieves, while Bucky was granted a chest plate and greaves as a Dimachaerus, dual-wielding two swords.

They fought regularly in practice, but never in the ring drawn into the sand in front of an audience. There was a palpable fear Steve felt at making Bucky bleed. Some nights, he whispered prayers to whatever god might deign to listen – perhaps Mars, for war, or Venus, for love – and pleaded with them to never pit him against Bucky.

[On the right hand side is a close-up of a temple’s columns, with sunlight poking between.]

FIFTH IMAGE: 

v.

 Bucky knew Steve was watching from beyond the Gate of Life as he stepped into the ring for his first gladiatorial combat in the arena. Steve had already won his earlier that day in front of roaring crowds and amused royalty in the Emperor’s box.

Now it was Bucky’s turn, and he twisted his swords in his fingers, facing down his opponent across the ring. Bucky knew their job was to fight – fight and possibly even die – but he also knew his job was to give them all a show.

And Bucky was nothing if not a showman.

In the end, blood stained the sand a vivid red, but Bucky strode towards the Gate of Life, triumphant.

SIXTH IMAGE:

vi.

 There were always popular gladiators, and Steve didn’t know how to react, finding himself to be one of them. Women lined up outside the bathhouses he frequented; shared rumours that dipping their hairpins in his blood might bring them love, that his sweat would work as an aphrodisiac.

“I can see their point,” Bucky whispered one night, his mouth ravenous against Steve’s after a long day of training. Their bodies were always animalistic in these moments, whilst the school was empty and the others were out drinking the night away. They took everything they could get from each other; swallowed each sensation whole.

Steve never wanted these moments to end. He would throw all the glory and money away for more time with Bucky, for more nights like this.

SEVENTH IMAGE: 

vii.

 After amphitheatre fights, admirers and buyers alike would flock to the school where the gladiators lounged on cushions and benches, drinking wine and eating expensive foods. These were the nights Bucky enjoyed the most. No one was allowed to approach unless beckoned by a gladiator, and Bucky would often spend time toying with the admirers, allowing one or two over before sending them away again. Eventually, after the show, he’d slip away into the sleeping quarters or empty storage cupboard, and find Steve waiting there for him.

There was a miles-long list of things Bucky loved about Steve’s body, but number one on the list was how it fit against his own in the dark.

[Cut into the left side is a photo of the Coliseum in Rome.]

EIGHTH IMAGE:

viii.

 A few days before the festival, culminating in three days of games at the coliseum, their master told Steve and Bucky that they were scheduled to fight.

“It’ll be fine,” they told each other in the dark. “The fights rarely end in death. We’re not fighting to kill. We’re fighting to entertain.”

“We’re performers,” Bucky would say. “We’re just there to give them a good time.”

“Don’t act like no one ever dies,” Steve would reply, each and every time. “Don’t act like we haven’t killed our opponents before.” Sometimes, friends would enter the ring with them and never leave it. Sometimes, the audience called for their deaths.

It was blood lust, through and through. The men caught hold of that first splash of red and couldn’t let it go; they had to see more, they had to see death in all its forms. The gladiator could’ve fought bravely, wonderfully, and they might still end up slumped in the sand afterwards.

“Soon,” they would say, “we’ll retire and leave this for good. Soon, we’ll travel the world, like we always planned.” They would whisper lies and truths to each other, desperately tangling them together until they couldn’t tell them apart.

NINTH IMAGE:

ix.

 On the day of the fight, Steve stepped into the ring opposite Bucky and breathed in the cheering crowd; the hot, midday sun. They had kissed in the shadow of the underground corridors, and now faced each other, weapons raised, poised for battle.

It was bloody from the get-go; they were entertainers after all, and the audience was only entertained when they saw the streak of blood dampening the sand. They twisted and turned as if they were dancing, as if there was music playing and this was them, centre stage, having the time of their lives rather than anxiously hoping their blades wouldn’t cut too deep, that the bruises would soon heal.

And then Steve’s sword slashed too harshly at Bucky’s side and he faltered, hissing.

“Bucky—” Steve said, not moving in on the advantage, not moving at all.

Bucky straightened, removing his hand from his side, darkly red. “What are you doing?” Bucky asked, before raising his swords once more. “Fight me.”

“Bucky—”

“Fight me,” Bucky hissed, slamming his swords forward. Steve barely had time to raise his shield. He couldn’t stop staring at the thick blood leaking from Bucky’s ribs.

“No—”

“Steve—”

“No.”

Steve stepped back, feet almost at the ring’s edge. He dropped his shield, his sword to the sand. He held his arms out, palms towards Bucky, and said, “I won’t fight you, Bucky. Not ever again.”

So Bucky took the win, and the crowds jeered at Steve, and the Emperor held his thumb outstretched, unamused by the champion’s surrender.

“You won’t fight me,” Bucky spat, “but you’ll make me kill you instead?”

[Cut into the right hand side is an edited shot of the movie Gladiator; two gladiators rush towards each other to battle, with the crowds filling the stands. Much of the image is in shadow, with streaks of sunlight pouring down from the left side.]

TENTH IMAGE:

x.

 The sand was hot beneath Bucky’s feet; no lazy afternoon shadows in the centre of the amphitheatre. In front of him, Steve knelt facing away, his head tipped low to bare the spot at the top of his spine, all smooth skin tanned and unblemished.

The crowds roared around them and Bucky lifted his sword, pressing the tip at the base of Steve’s neck.

Steve flinched and said, just barely loud enough for Bucky to hear: “Perhaps I’ll go to Elysium… I hear there are few places better to be than the underworld, these days.”

But Bucky knew Steve would not go to Elysium. He was a warrior, but he was not dying righteously, not for fighting well. He was dying for surrendering, for caring about Bucky more than himself.

And Bucky—well he cared for Steve more than himself, too. They were the same that way. They always had been.

So Bucky stepped back, lowering his sword in his hand. He looked up to the Emperor, shadowed in his private box, and shook his head.  

“I won’t kill you, Steve,” he said, and Steve looked around in surprise, like it was really all that out of character. He held out a hand and pulled Steve to his feet, ignoring the roaring of the crowd, the anger that came from mercy.

“They’ll come for us,” Steve said, eyes wary. “They’ll kill us both.”

With one hand, Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb against his cheekbone, and with the other, he lifted the sword and twisted it. “Let them try,” he said. “But we have plans to travel the world. We’ve got no time for dying, Steve.”

And in the summer heat, they ran for the Gate of Life.

ELEVENTH IMAGE:

[A close up of two marble statues kissing.]

[END OF IMAGE ID]

[captainrogers-ass]

Leather & Spice - Zemo x Reader One-Shot

Summary: You could never say no to a mission when it was Sam Wilson calling, yet cooperating with a convicted mass murderer hadn’t exactly been what you were expecting. Wounding, maiming, killing; those were all in your job description. Acting as Helmut Zemo’s lover was not.

Word Count: 4900

Pairings: Zemo x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bucky x Reader (platonic)

A/N: Ok so I know I’ve been super inactive and I know this isn’t strictly Chris Evans related but I’m currently obsessed with TFATWS; more specifically a certain mass murderer. I’ve substituted Serbian for Sokovian, although Zemo talks to Bucky in Russian. As always, any and all feedback is much appreciated. I hope you enjoy!!! Let me know if you want a part 2!!!

The call had been tense, brief, and widely lacking in any important information, and yet you had still gone anyway.

No matter how many times the Avengers had screwed you over you couldn’t help yourself when Sam Wilson called. Your resistance was futile. He was too charming to say no to, and you were pretty sure he was perfectly well aware of that.

The private jet had been a nice surprise in all honesty. Sam had seemingly always had a knack for finding the seediest alleyway or dingiest motel room to meet up in whenever he called for your help, so you couldn’t help but smile at the change in scenery. Your boots clicked loudly on the tarmac below as you approached the plane, your hand pausing as it connected with the railing of the stair car, a small smile escaping onto your lips as you tried to contain your unusual excitement.

A butler with greying hair and aged skin greeted you at the entrance to the plane. He was dressed in a neat, black suit and smiled at you kindly upon your arrival, his arms already extended as he motioned towards your luggage.

“Oh, thank you,” you said with a smile as you handed over your bag.

The cabin was lovely; spacious, lavish and filled with two grown men who were currently too enthralled in their escalating argument to take any notice of your arrival.

Bucky and Sam were sitting next to each other; Bucky slumped over within his seat with his arms folded across his chest, Sam perched at the edge of his own seat, his hands raised passionately before him as he berated Bucky in a tone that was clearly trying to stay relatively calm but was miserably failing. You cleared your throat as a small smile escaped onto your lips; these two hadn’t changed one bit.

Sam’s eyes met yours first.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, immediately rising from his seat and striding the few steps towards you, engulfing you in a hug. “I wasn’t sure, you’d come. I haven’t seen you in so long!”

You laughed as you managed to extract yourself from Sam’s embrace.

“You know I can never say no to you, Sam,” you chuckled.

“It’s because I’m too handsome, right?”

“Sure.”

You turned your attention to Bucky who was now standing just slightly back from Sam, their argument apparently forgotten as Bucky smiled kindly towards you.

“Hey there stranger,” you said as you gave Bucky a brief hug.

“And here I was thinking I was the most antisocial person I knew,” he retorted.

“I haven’t been avoiding you two, I promise. I’ve just been busy.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “With whatever it is you do.”

You laughed but didn’t answer his implied question.

“This jet is a nice touch. How in the hell did you afford this?” you questioned.

The atmosphere changed immediately, the smile on your features faltering slightly as you felt the tension rise around you. Bucky turned his eyes to the floor, his figure hunching over slightly so that he looked far smaller than he usually appeared. Sam averted his gaze as well, instead turning to look at something past your shoulder.

“It’s mine actually. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Having worked in secret services your entire life you found yourself quite shocked at having failed to notice the third man on board. There was no doubt that this man hadn’t been in the main cabin upon your arrival, but having failed to recognise his presence until he spoke was an unusual oversight on your part; especially since he was standing quite close to you.

As you turned around you registered three things before your eyes landed upon him. Firstly, his accent was unusual, captivating and alluring, not one that you could outright recognise on an initial introduction alone. Secondly, his cologne was extraordinarily enticing; a dark, spicy smell that washed over you and filled your senses all at once so that you couldn’t help but inhale deeply to try and get another whiff of it. And thirdly, his presence was remarkable. Even before you looked upon him you could tell that this was a man of wealth; his tone, his posture, his cologne, his everything, oozed sophistication.

And then your eyes met his.

“I’m Helm-”

Before he could finish you grabbed the hand he had been in the process of outstretching for a handshake, twisted it behind his back before shoving him up against the wall of the plane with quite possibly a tad more force than was strictly necessary. A grunt escaped his lips as you did so, but whether it was from pain or surprise you couldn’t tell.

“Y/N!” Bucky and Sam yelled in unison.

“Would someone care to explain to me why there is a convicted criminal on board this plane.” Your voice came out far calmer than you were expecting.

“Well it is my pla-”

“Shut up,” you, Bucky and Sam all said in unison.

You pushed his contorted arm higher and a flicker of pain crossed his features for just a second, yet he remained silent. His face was pressed against the wall, your body weight holding him in place, and yet his eyes were trained on you, a piercing blend of hazel and gold that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t resisting at all—which was surprising considering he could probably overpower you with his military history—and he no longer made any obvious outward indication that he was in pain even though the placement of his arm would suggest otherwise.

“We need him, Y/N,” Sam finally spoke up.

You struggled to pull your gaze from his, lingering for what felt like years.

“And his life-long prison sentence just happened to be up, I suppose?” you replied.

You couldn’t quite tell, but the subtle vibrations coming from Zemo made you think that he was laughing.

“Well, Bucky was the one who actually broke him ou-” Sam began.

“Oh yeah blame it on me,” Bucky exclaimed.

“Were you not the one who broke him out?”

“You know we needed him I was just the-”

“Ok, ok, boys,” you interrupted. “I really don’t care whose fault it is. What’s done is done. But will someone please explain why the hell we need a mass murderer’s help?”

“Well, there’s this new terrorist organisation called the Flagsmashers,” Sam began.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Zemo interrupted. You pushed him up against the wall harder but he continued on unfazed. “But I feel like this story is going to take a while so is there any possibility that I can have the function of my arm back, please?”

There was that accent again, so unusual and yet so smooth that it took you a few seconds to actually register what the man was saying. You glared at him for several seconds but eventually loosened your grip.

Immediately turning around, Zemo brought his hand up to rub at the arm that had been angled uncomfortably behind his back, his gaze never leaving yours. Your eyes travelled down his figure, taking in the luxurious coat draped around his shoulders, the well-tailored purple turtleneck underneath that shaped his frame well, and the expensive-looking black gloves that clung to his fingers. When your eyes returned to his a smile was peeking through onto his lips.

“As I was saying before, I’m Helmut Zemo.” You noticed that he didn’t extend his hand a second time for a handshake. “But I take it you already knew that…Y/N, is it?”

You didn’t answer, simply continuing to stare at him through slitted eyelids.

“I would say it is a pleasure to meet you,” he began again, making his way over to a small bar cart as he poured himself a drink. “But it was actually a surprisingly painful introduction.”

Extending a gloved hand towards you Zemo offered you a glass of the brown liquid. With some hesitation you accepted, your eyes never leaving his as your hand brushed over his gloved one.

Tearing your gaze from his you made your way to the seat in front of where Sam and Bucky had been previously sitting. Taking a sip from your drink you motioned for the two men to reclaim their seats.

“So, tell me about these Flagsmashers.”

*

“If we have to do something about this, I’m the only one that looks like a pimp,” Sam commented, looking down to admire the colourfully decorated suit he was wearing.

The four of you were currently walking across an empty bridge, the lights of the bustling city burning bright in the distance.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing; a sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger,” Zemo replied, passing his phone to Sam, a photo lighting up the screen.

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

You walked closer to Sam, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at the picture. You laughed slightly to yourself.

“You sure you don’t have some alter ego you’re not telling us about?” you questioned.

“Ha, ha,” Sam responded dryly.

“So then who am I supposed to be?” you asked Zemo. “Some stunningly beautiful millionaire who also happens to look exactly like me, I presume?”

The sarcasm was obvious in your tone and yet you were still surprised at the small laugh that left Zemo’s lips. It was deep, dark, and didn’t last very long, but it was charming. You turned away from him and looped your arm through Sam’s instead, pretending to need assistance with walking from the six-inch heels Zemo had you wear.

The dress he had presented to you on the plane was surprisingly stunning. It was black and fell just above your ankles, a large slit running up the left side of the fabric and a cowling neckline that accentuated your figure perfectly. The back was low, the straps criss-crossing across your shoulders doing little to provide any solace from the evenings cold wind.

“In a sense I suppose that is correct,” Zemo responded. “You will be playing the role of my date.”

Your head whipped around to stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

Bucky and Sam tried in vain to hide their snickers. You punched Sam lightly in the arm.

“The Smiling Tiger, the Winter Soldier and I all have reputations that we can rely on here in Madripoor. Nobody knows who you are Y/N and that makes you the most valuable person here. By limiting you to just my date people will begin to underestimate you which makes you a valuable asset if things begin to go South.”

His words made sense and yet you refused to admit it.

“He’s not wrong, Y/N,” Sam whispered to you.

“I think if Bucky can pretend to be the Winter Soldier,” Zemo continued. “Then you will be perfectly capable of pretending to be my date.”

“No, I think Y/N still got the short straw here,” Bucky said, causing you and Sam to begin to snicker as a scowl appeared on Zemo’s face.

A black car began to approach you on the bridge, pulling up beside you. Just before you could open the door a gloved hand enclosed around the handle.

“Allow me, draga.”

He opened the door and motioned for you to enter. You met his gaze, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“I’m not your date just yet.”

“A lady should always be treated with respect whether she is one’s date or not.”

You hadn’t been expecting a response, yet he had provided one so quickly and with such sincerity in his voice that you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at him. Your gaze lingered upon his for several seconds before he provided you with a curt nod.

You entered the car without another word, Zemo following in behind you so that you were now sandwiched between him and Sam with Bucky sitting quite comfortably in the front seat.

The drive into town was mostly quiet. You enjoyed looking out the window at the bright city, mesmerised by all the neon signs and blinding lights. The streets were riddled with guns; hidden in holsters on people’s hips, tucked into the backs of pants, or simply waved around nonchalantly. You checked the holster attached to your thigh for good measure.

Glancing into the rear-view mirror you could have sworn that you had met Zemo’s gaze for a split second, but with a blink of your eyes his head was now directed out the window, his gaze fixated on the passing buildings. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but returned your gaze to the window once more without a word.

The streets were crawling with criminals when you reached the bar. Guns were being waved around as if they were a fashion accessory and blatant felonies were being conducted out in the open with no attempt to conceal anything.

Zemo exited the car first, and as you scooted across the seat to make your own exit you found that familiar gloved hand was already extended towards you. Looking up, your eyes met his, taking his hand without a word. You were now in character and you were going to play the role as best you could.

You didn’t let go of Zemo’s hand as he helped you from the car. Instead, after waiting for him to close the door behind you, you looped your arm through his as you had done to Sam only minutes previously, this time leaning into him much more closely than you had done with your friend.

If Zemo was surprised at your gentle touch he did not show it. Instead he flexed his arm to bring you slightly closer before leading you, Bucky and Sam into the bar. As soon as you had exited the car it seemed as if the whole street had their eyes on you. Your heart fluttered nervously in your chest, but your features remained neutral even as your eyes roamed freely around your surroundings.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you whispered to Zemo. “But I think you should’ve given me something a bit more revealing to wear. This dress is beautiful, but I look so out of place.”

Zemo turned to you with a smile on his face.

“Any woman on my arm will always be dressed in the finest of silks. It would be far more suspicious if I made you wear a more revealing dress, trust me.”

His voice was low as he spoke to you, his gaze fixated on you as he smiled cheekily.

Your heart fluttered nervously once more.

The bar was loud, hot and filled with half-drunk people rubbing their private parts against each other. The popular neon lights trickled in to the establishment, casting contrasting shadows of yellow and red across the space.

A bartender greeted you as you approached the bar, his face stoic and void of emotion.

“Hello gentlemen,” he nodded towards Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

Zemo answered for him.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender turned to Sam.

“The usual?”

Sam nodded.

When the bartender returned with a snake and began to gut it right in front of you you couldn’t help the small smile that crept up onto your face when you realised what was happening.

“Ah,” Zemo began, “Smiling Tiger, your favourite.”

His tone was slightly mocking and it nearly caused you to burst out laughing right there, but you managed to retain your composure. Sam turned with a resentful look on his face to see you and Zemo trying to hide the smiles that were creeping on to your faces.

“I love these,” Sam said as he raised the glass to you.

You leaned your head on to Zemo’s shoulder in an attempt to hide your snickers. Sam clinked his glass against Zemo’s, and after some hesitation, downed the shot in one.

The smile was wiped from your face as you felt a presence approach you from behind, struggling against the instinct to reach for your weapon. Zemo felt you still beside him and immediately turned to meet the approaching man, placing you slightly behind him.

“I got word from on high,” the man said. “You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo’s voice sounded nonchalant as he responded.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists he can either come and talk to me,” Zemo looked behind him to where Bucky was standing.

“New haircut?” the man said to Bucky with a scoff.

Zemo’s voice was deep and demanding, grasping the man’s attention once more, “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man left but now your senses were on high alert as Zemo turned back to talk to Bucky. Your eyes scoured the room, noticing several men beginning to approach you. Slowly your hand began to travel down to your gun.

“Not yet, dušica.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky just as one of the approaching men placed his hand upon Zemo’s shoulder. “Zimniy soldat. Ataka.”

Without hesitating Bucky grabbed the arm of the man who had touched Zemo, bending it painfully backwards. You watched on with bated breath, worried for your friend as he reverted back to what he once was, not because he wasn’t able to handle the fight—he wasn’t even breaking a sweat as he took on three guys at once—but because of what this little act might have on all the progress he had made.

Your gaze flickered to Zemo for a split second to find that he was smiling.

“It didn’t take long for him to fall back into form,” he whispered to you.

Ever since this trip had begun you had slowly started to become desensitised to the fact that you were in the presence of a mass murderer, often forgetting at times that the man before you had caused so much pain and suffering. But now it hit you all at once, causing you to become quite repulsed by the presence beside you.

Wanting to remove yourself from his side but knowing that you couldn’t you instead leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“If you smile again from Bucky’s pain, I’ll punch your teeth in so that when I burn you to death they won’t be able to use your dental records to identify your body.”

To say that Zemo was surprised at your comment was an understatement as he whipped his head around to look at you, his mask of composure forgotten for a split second as his eyes met yours. He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you that he had not been expecting such a response. His gaze fell to the floor and you thought, just for a second, that maybe he was about to apologise, but when his eyes came back to look at you his mouth remained closed.

He noticed the change in your attitude immediately. Whilst you did not disentangle your arm from his, you now distanced yourself as far as you could from his side, your touch no longer the comfortable presence he had begun to enjoy, now cold and impersonal.

The sounds of guns being cocked brought your attention back to the room.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo quickly whispered to Bucky. “Otlichnaya rabota, soldat,” he said louder.

Everyone in the bar paused as Bucky let go of the man he had been in the process of choking.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interrupted.

A small sigh of relief escaped from your lips.

The back room was poorly lit and smelt of alcohol and cigarettes, the wall to your left illuminated by small televisions that displayed the security camera footage from all over the bar.

Selby—a middle aged, menacing looking woman with short, platinum blonde hair—was sitting upon one of the luxurious couches, dressed in an ill-fitting suit with a loosely tied tie hanging around her neck.

“You should know, Baron,” she began, tapping her hand against the head of the couch. “People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand,” Zemo responded. “An offer.”

Zemo took a seat on the couch opposite to Selby’s, his hand in yours as he motioned for you to sit next to him. You paused for just a second before perching yourself so that you were instead sitting in his lap. As much as you didn’t want to be in this position, when you went undercover you did it well. Zemo’s face showed no hint of surprise, but his hands fumbled for a split second, unsure of where to place them before he rested one on your waist and one on your thigh, quite high up so that he was basically at your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed and you found yourself quite surprised at his willingness to respect your boundaries.

Selby raised an eyebrow at you.

“A lot has changed since you were last here,” she said, her gaze now fixated on you. It made you feel uncomfortable, but you didn’t show it as you leaned back into Zemo’s touch. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

Zemo’s gloved hand began rubbing circles on your knee, your skin exposed from the slit in the dress. You were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was doing it, but you weren’t altogether against the touch.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” he responded. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“What’s the offer.”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky who remained stoic and impassive in the corner of the room. “Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” She paused as she considered the offer. “You were right to seek me out. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank…or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh, the breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby’s gaze shifted to Bucky before it returned to land on you. “Who is this beautiful creature you’ve got with you?”

You felt Zemo stiffen beneath you.

“Ah,” he began, his voice somehow having grown deeper. “This one isn’t part of the deal. She’s mine.”

There was an intensity to the way he said mine. It was subtle, but it was there, and Selby noticed it as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“Are you sure about that, Baron?” she responded with a laugh. “These young creatures get so restless. Are you sure she’s not bored with you already?”

Zemo’s hand was now gripping your thigh a lot lower than where it had previously been and a lot harder; not so roughly that it hurt, but hard enough for you to realise that he was unsure of how to proceed. You turned your gaze to Selby who licked her lips as your eyes met hers, before turning your attention back to Zemo. He looked up towards you, a confused look flashing across his eyes as he tried to figure out what you were about to do. Having made your decision—and before you had enough time to really question what you were about to do—you leaned down towards the Baron and collided your lips with his.

Zemo hesitated at first, his lips unresponsive against yours for a split second before he returned the gesture. His hands came up to tangle themselves in your hair, your own hands gripping the base of his scalp. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and turned slightly so that Selby had a clear view.

You made sure the kiss was dirty and ferocious, and it left both of you breathless as you pulled away from him.

You turned to Selby with a smirk on your face, wiping some saliva from the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb as you maintained eye-contact with her.

“Not quite yet,” you said.

A viscous smile spread across her face but before Selby could respond Sam’s phone began to ring, and everything went downhill pretty quickly from there.

When the sniper shot came through the window you didn’t have time to be surprised, immediately leaping to your feet, gun already in hand. Before Selby’s henchmen had even had time to react you had already shot a bullet into two of their chests, Bucky taking out the third man in the room.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead,” Zemo said, quickly making his way back down to the bar with you, Sam and Bucky close behind, your gun back in its concealed holster.

Descending the stairs quickly, Bucky leaned back with a smirk on his face. 

"Told you you got the short straw."

Punching him in the arm to try to get him to shut up you quickly realised your mistake as you brought your hand to your chest, pain flaring in your knuckles at having collided with the vibranium. A short laugh escaped from Bucky's lips.

"Focus," Zemo called from the front of the group.

You made your way back on to the street quickly, following Zemo as he hastily walked in a direction that you hoped would get you off the main strip. Looking around you as you walked you kept noticing people getting notifications on their phones and a bad feeling began to grow in your stomach.

A round of bullets were shot towards you, the proximity of the bang causing your ears to ring painfully. All four of you ducked immediately as you scrambled away quickly. Bucky and Sam ran forwards and Zemo, grabbing your hand swiftly, veered off into a small alley way, his hand never leaving yours as he ran. The sound of several footsteps followed close behind you, but before you could reach for your gun Zemo crowded you into a small alcove.

“What are you doing? They’ll see us here,” you angrily whispered. Your hand began to reach for your gun once more but Zemo stopped you.

“There’s too many of them,” he said quickly, peeking out from behind the alcove to spy on the approaching men.

“We’re sitting ducks here. I can probably get a few shots out if-”

All at once Zemo whipped back around and placed his index finger upon your lips to stop you from speaking.

“I’m truly sorry for this.”

For the second time that night Helmut Zemo’s lips were now upon yours, kissing you far more softly than you had kissed him before. His body was crowding yours against the wall of the alley way, his broad form easily shielding you. The footsteps got closer and closer, all the while you kept kissing the Baron. This time there was no tongue, just gentle lips upon yours as he kissed you tenderly and slowly.

That cologne you had first smelt that morning engulfed your senses now so that it was all you could smell. Your hands came up to grip at the fur collar of his coat, pulling him closer by the furred lapel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the softness of it. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the approaching footsteps; how close they came to you before they past right by, the group of men not giving you a second glance as one shouted orders to the rest in a language you couldn't be bothered to recognise.

At some point Zemo's tongue ended up in your mouth, or maybe it was your tongue in his. Either way you couldn't recall who had initiated it, and couldn't quite find the effort to care. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek whilst the other became entangled within your hair, pulling at your roots slightly so that you moaned at the feeling.

You moaned.

Pushing the baron away from you you immediately put as much distance as you could between the two of you. His lips were red and swollen and you were quite sure yours looked the same, both panting slightly as the cold air illuminated your breaths.

You could feel your cheeks begin to redden immediately, and swiftly turned away from him to hide your embarrassment.

You could still hear the men who had been following you, their footsteps far quieter now as they continued down the alley.

“I think they’re gone,” you finally said, having allowed the awkward silence to grow palpable between you.

“Yes…yes I think you’re right,” he responded, not meeting your gaze.

The sound of footsteps coming down the alley filled your ears once more, and this time you didn’t hesitate as you pulled your gun from its holster.

“Woah, easy there tiger, it’s just us,” Sam said, his hands held upwards in a sign of surrender.

You let out a sigh as you saw them and immediately felt Zemo’s gaze fall upon you.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 5

Throw a punch

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n finally beats Bucky, he has a surprise for her when she returns from her first mission.

Warnings: smut, violence, mention of death/murder

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

3 years. 3 godforsaken, bloody torturous years. That's how long I'd been in this hell hole. How long I'd been repeatedly beaten up by my only form of solace daily. How long I'd been whipped for simply not being good enough to beat a super soldier. How long I'd endured endless torture. And today, today is the day that it will all end.

If there was one thing the last three years taught me, is that I should duck and run rather than throw a punch. At least that's what I thought, and I'd never really been willing to risk a broken jaw to prove my theory. That is, until today.

Come on, y/n, you can do this. The words were repeated in my mind, my own mantra, in order to psych myself up for what I was about to do. There was a fire grip on my arm - arguably much tighter than necessary - as the guards dragged my down the hollow hall to my training session with the Winter Soldier. Pft, more like two hours of humiliation and a sore ass, I though, a little smirk spreading on my lips at my own joke.

"What're you laughing about? Something funny, Stark?" The guard who had the grip on my arm spat through gritted teeth and the smirk was instantly ripped from my lips, instead reverting back to the hard expression I had been trying to maintain while around anyone who worked for HYDRA.

So basically everyone.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, like normal, and the guard roughly shoved my into the room by a hand between my shoulder blades, like normal. But today wasn't like normal - no, today was the day I was the one to throw a punch.

They removed the silencer from my head and let me take a gulp of water before The General was barking the order for us to begin.

I walked into the centre of the room, shoulders back and stare cold. The soldier's gaze matched mine as his cerulean eyes bore into my own, his jaw clenched and hands already curling into fists as I stood before him. We maintained the stare for a moment - almost as if the other was waiting for the other to make the first move, an open opportunity to take the win.

And so I did.

Using the speed I'd worked up to over time, I farted towards the soldier, ducking on a seconds notice as his metal fist flew out. I landed a jab to his stomach, one hard enough to make him cough slightly with the knocked up air but far from hard enough to actually make him stumble. Distracted, he barely noticed me as I slipped under him - through his legs out by his back, which I was quick to jump on. I let my legs wrap around his muscular waist and my left arm wrap around his throat, making the soldier grit his teeth and attempt to pry my arm away from his neck as he began to choke.

When he attempted to fling my forward, I tangled my right fist into his brown locks, yanking painfully and making the soldier cry out as I lowered my lips to his ear. Another thing I'd learnt in the past three years is that the soldier was only affected by my powers under two conditions:

One, he was off-guard or vulnerable - hence the choking - and two, I was as close to him as I could possibly get.

I began to him a soft tune - one I had discovered was most effective in lowering my opponent's defence and lulling them into a false sense of security. I practically smirked irksomely when I sensed his eyes rolling back in defeat and his assault on my arm falter - body falling limp and relaxed under the quell of my voice.

When I was sure I'd lowered his defences enough, I slowly climbed down from his back and admired my handy-work.

The Winter Soldier, stood dopey and barely lucid before me, without so much as the energy to even move his arm, let alone land a heavy punch like he normally would. I took my chance, the man nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones as my leg swept through his, bringing the soldier down the the ground with a loud noise that resembled a mixture of a crash and a thud.

Of course, the impact made my tune immediately ware-off and the soldier was now fully lucid, but I could barely contain myself as I punched my fists into the air triumphantly and a grin curled across my lips.

A lonely applause filled the tall room, bringing me back to earth as I realised the situation. Footsteps angled towards me, slow and calculated as the claps slowed to a stop, The General standing before me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well done, Miss Stark." He congratulated, looking around him and outstretching his arms. "It only took you, what? Three years?" He mocked, the taunting laughter of the guards making me feel nauseous. But I kept my composure, returning his mocking, tight-lipped smile that didn't even dare go near my eyes - which were alright with anger. "And now your training is complete. We shall have to teach you how to use a gun, I suppose?" He said lazily. I clenched my jaw.

"I knew how to use a gun perfectly fine, General." I gritted and his eyes brows shot up as he turned to face his comrades.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen? Looks like she doesn't need another three years to learn to fire a gun? My, my, haven't we lucked out with this one?" He mocked cruelly, coming back to face my burning eyes. He smirked, grabbing my chin between his thumb and his finger and angling my head up to meat his eyes. "Take her away, and get her ready for her first mission." He demanded, eyes churning with something that resembled pride, but darker. He kept his eyes on me as he spoke, before roughly jerking my chin away and letting the guards refasten the silencer over my mouth before they were grabbing and arm each and dragging me from the  training room.

The pulled me back down the hollow hall - passing my usual cell.

"W-where are we going?" I asked, swallowing heavily as they halted to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door and we shoving me inside. There was nothing gentle about the HYDRA guards, not that I ever expected there to be.

Once I was in one of them tugged the door shut, the other throwing a bundle of clothes at me, which I fought as the flew at my chest. I opened the ball of fabric out, finding a skin-tight leather tactile suit - red HYDRA symbol embellished on either arm and over my heart - along with underwear and some black tactile boots.

The men stared at me expectantly, eyeing me up and down by never making the move to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to give me privacy to change?" I asked sheepishly. As humiliating it had been to be whipped for three years the sight toppled in front of these men, the idea of willingly getting changed while they were stood staring at me like I was a piece of meat made bile ride in my throat.

"I highly suggest you get to it, unless you'd like us to help out, of course." One of the guards said with a sickening expression, making me grimace and begin to tug my shirt over my head.

"And how about you do it...slowly, if you don't mind, Miss Stark." The other remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he bit his lip and glued his eyes intensely on my body.

I gulped, continuing to pull the shirt over my head. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day.

…

Blood and soot cakes my nails, the icky feeling of the grime a haunting reminder of what I had just done. I was in the shower room, scrubbing the mud and blood from my body as quickly and efficiently as I could. I was used to cleaning my own blood from my skin, but the feeling of someone else’s just made me want to-

I shivered, hands shaking the the brush tumbling out of my grasp and clattering to the floor. I braced a hand on the wall, letting my head hang forward as I took a deep breath, before looking back up and wincing as the cold water streamed over me.

No hot showers at HYDRA. I hadn’t felt the feeling of warm water rush over me since the last time I had a long bubble bath back home...

I shook the thought off, carding my fingers through my hair and attempting to pick the dirt and gravel out of it. My breath was ragged as I felt a hot steam of air on my neck, the faint tickle of fingers brushing over my hips and up my body until two large hands - one flesh, one metal - caged my head to the tiled wall.

“Soldier...” I moaned breathily, letting my eyes slip shut at the feeling of his hot breath hitting the back of my neck. It was an intoxicating feeling, really, especially after being void of affectionate human contact for so many years. The soldier buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply before bringing his lips to my eye.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He murmured, flesh hand coming down to grab a handful of my ass roughly before letting go. I almost whined at the loss of contact before I felt a harsh spank against my right ass cheek. What surprised me the most was the expected cry of pain did not escape me, but rather a moan of pleasure.

I could feel the soldier’s smirk against my skin at my reaction, my eyes still shut as his hand trailed over my hip once again, before slipping down my front and running a finger through my wet folds. I jerked away as his fingertip brushed over my sensitive nub, pressing my lips together to surpress a needy groan at his low chuckle, the sound going straight to my core and causing a pang of arousal to dance through me.

“Ever been touched here before?” He husked in my ear and o shook my head, almost in embarrassment. “No?” He checked and I shook my head again. “I’ll try to be gentle.” He muttered, but before I could protest his cold with gliding through my folds, now coated in my wetness and slowly sheathing itself inside of me.

A raspy moan tore from my throat, the soldier groaning behind me as his hand moved to my hip in a vice-like grip. His cock stretched me beyond my limits, and to say it was painful was an understatement. After a moment of keeping his cock fully seated within me, the soldier pulled his hips back slowly before slamming back roughly. A burn formed in my cunt and I let out another moan, dropping my head forward to to cool shower wall when he thrusted into me again.

After a few more thrusts the pain started to dissipate, instead turning into a delicious and pleasurable burn that sent tingles through me. When one of my hands reached backwards to grip onto the soldier’s thigh, he took it as a signal to speed up snapping his hips into mine until the only thing that could be heard were our skin slapping together, my breathy and broken moans and the soldier’s frankly feral and animalistic growls and groans in my ear.

A sharp gasp crawled up my throat when his hand transferred from my hip down to my core, two fingers flicking at my bungle of nerves. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every part of him as I clamped down around him, throwing my head back to rest of his shoulder as his pace somehow increased again - fingers drawing tight and fast circles on my clit in time with his thrusts.

My knees buckled as I came with a shout, falling back into him as my legs gave up on me. He let out a growl as his thrusts faltered, a few more strokes and he was shooting his load deep into me. I winced as he pulled out, falling forwards into the wall as I tried to catch my breath - breathing laboured.

As I turned to face the soldier, maybe pull him into a kiss, he disappeared. It was like he had gone into thin air. The only trace of him left was his cum dripping down my thighs, tickling my skin.