#allies or enemies bucky x reader

[gaysindistress]

Allies or Enemies - one

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader

Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.

Warnings: mild cursing

Word count: 3.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @unaxv

“The king requires your presence.”

“But were I to require that he does not bother me, my request would be ignored. We cannot always have the things that we desire,” I sigh whilst continuing to read the journal in front of me.

The handwriting is terrible, so much so that I can barely finish a page in 5 minutes but given that the king has been demanding my presence at every chance that he gets, I continue with my struggles. An older woman stands in the doorway and I can feel her glare at me with a hatred that I imagine is reserved only for me. After all, my mother is the one who married her lover.

“Now.”

The finality in her tone would’ve caused a younger me to look up in fear but I’ve grown used to the stern reality of our world. As the eldest daughter of the queen, I’ve been educated in every form of manipulation that can be conveyed through the voice. As the child of the late king and the unwanted stepchild to the current king, I’ve been taught that I am the only protection that I have. No one will come to my aid or offer me guidance when I need it. No one will tend to my wounds when the cruel servants of the king lash me with their words. No one will care for me in the way that my younger sisters are looked after. No one would even bat an eye if I were to vanish into thin air. They might celebrate if that were to happen.

The woman whom I despise just as much as she me repeats herself with a heavy huff as if I have greatly inconvenienced her by breathing the same air as her or simply existing. Whether it be my existence or continued residence at the palace that is more vexing to her is yet to be determined I’ve decided.

The journal before me bound in precious leather and gold thread suddenly becomes unimportant. While it details the various races of creatures that occupy these lands and would prove to be useful in my studies, it will do nothing to shield me from the king’s wrath. My fingers drift away from the frayed edges and allow it to close by itself, prompting small dust specks to flutter around it. The black silk ribbon that I wound around the end of my braid is dangling above the curious journal, trailing its delicate ends over the monstrous illustrations hidden in its opulent bindings. The ribbon, much like my heart, yearns to open it once more and lose myself in its pages but is bound by duty to ignore such a yearning.

“Your highness,” she demands in a tight voice, “We are to leave now.”

Rolling my eyes would most certainly earn me a slap across the face but it doesn’t stop me from squeezing them shut in frustration. Standing up from my desk, I swipe at the dust on my lap, smearing gray streaks across the thick black fabric of my over skirt. She makes a small noise of disgust at the action, no doubt complaining loudly in her mind that being presentable is not something I know how to do. We make eye contact for a brief moment and she is quick to turn on her heel, forcing me to nearly jog to catch up so that I may follow this hateful woman to my certain death.

The Beloved King Anthony Starkov had been a wonderful king at first. After the invasion of the Dragonborn and the apparent failure by my father to protect his nation, Anthony seemed like a god sent. He rode in on a pure white horse with the head of the most fearsome Dragonborn knight on his sword as he declared that he was now king. My mother, the poor grieving widower queen, had no choice but to accept his proposal and promise to care for us. He’s doted on her, showered her with affection and gifts, and most importantly he treated me as if I were his own. Following my father’s death and living in fear of Dragonborn attack’s, a protective shield was all I prayed for. My mother could barely protect herself from the onslaught of the court’s cruel words and it became apparent that soon they would turn on me. It was not for a lack of trying surely but due to the fact that she was not a man. As the angry old woman who calls herself my advisor likes to remind me, a woman is only as powerful as the man that marries her and that meant my mother had no power until Anthony.

The moment that Anthony took the crown and later my mother’s hand, we’d all thought that this would be the bright moment in our bleak lives that we’d been looking for. The nation of York was at peace when it had been a foreign concept to me and many others after the Dragonborn had launched their attack. The love that Anthony and my mother shared burned brighter than the terror that my father had allowed into our land.

Until the rumors of his cruel actions behind closed doors began to spread.

The help always gossiped against themselves and no one truly paid any mind.

That is until evidence accompanies these rumors.

My mother did well to hide what she could but once again there was only so much that she could do to protect me. When my sisters came along, I presume that Anthony no longer felt anger towards her but instead towards me, the last reminder of the Failed King. I’d always had pitying stares and endured hushed conversations where my name slipped between their fingers as they whispered to each other.

Poor child.

I heard that she’s going to be married off as soon as possible.

I heard that she’s just as weak as her father.

Poor child.

I ignored them until I couldn’t anymore. I ignored them until I had been sent to live with a distant cousin to be “taught the art of diplomacy” and was told to never return to the palace. With this distant cousin, I did learn the art of diplomacy as planned but as the craft of cutting words and cunning actions. I’d grown rather talented at navigating the complicated relations of neighboring nations, so much so that foreign diplomats asked for me by name. My ability to seamlessly blend together warring cultures and broken bonds earned me fame beyond that of my late father. Of course like any wicked stepparent, Anthony demanded I return to court so that my talents may be best utilized to serve the nation.

What a wretched lie to shorten my leash.

So began my rebellion.

The older woman who is also my ill informed advisor, Pepper, stomps down the dim hall towards the grand battle room. Her reddish blonde hair hardly moves behind her as she makes a determined path to the king despite the curls it’s been styled into. It’s rather shocking to see her hair down at all considering she is usually the one to lecture me on the propriety of society and how as a member of the royal family, I must uphold that. After she’s red in the face and moments away from exploding with fury, I like to remind her that I’m the forgotten eldest daughter. No one thinks of me as the face of this family or that of modern society either.

Despite its name, the battle room cannot be considered grand by any stretch of the imagination. Much like the rest of the palace, it is old and worn from economic fatigue. Where gold used to be brushed across every inch, there are now only flecks of lackluster yellow. Where towering windows used to bathe the halls in sunlight, there are now curtains drawn to prevent the Dragonborn from seeing movement within the palace. There is no finery to be seen and what was once a regal sight to behold is the stark reminder that we are at war with enemies who have every advantage.

With a deafening boom, ragged guards who’ve past their battle prime push the battle room doors and alert the king to our arrival. Pepper stomps right to where the king is sitting among pillars of maps and letters and whispers something in his ear. I don’t need to know whatever lies she’s telling him because his expression tells me enough. His ever present scowl deepens when he looks up and settles his disgusted gaze on me.

Dust swirls from my skirts as I shift on my feet and hit the wood paneled floors beneath me with a silent loudness as he stares at me.

A single question hangs in the air as he attempts to peer into my soul, “Were you aware that the Dragonic bastards were planning to create an alliance with the Elven counsel?”

Of course no warm welcome or small talk. Straight to the heart of the reason he even dragged me back here in the first place.

“Was I aware of this alliance?” I calmly restate, arching a brow at the man who sits high on his worthless throne and judges me. “Had I been, I would have informed you the instant I knew, your highness.”

In truth, I had heard snippets of clipped conversations about something brewing between the two nations but nothing raised concern within me. Rather nothing could’ve convinced me to speak to this man willingly.

The throne is a disgusting sight to behold with its mangled wood and tattered black cloth that flows in the still wind behind it. Black as night and deafening as the ever present silence that fills when you’re dying, this throne is what haunted me as a child and whispers promises of my demise now as an adult. The throne smiles when it senses my anger and the man who is occupying it becomes a conduit for its emotions as that familiar sinister glint flickers in his dark eyes.

Anthony throws a glance to the dust that has fallen around me with disappointment before speaking, “Do not play games with me, child.”

My eyes narrow at his choice of words.

“I assure you,” I start as I take a step forward as the heels of my boots make light taps on the wood, “I am not playing games with you. As I said before, if I had heard anything about this rumored alliance then you would have been made aware as well but alas I did not know.”

Anthony’s hollow chuckle causes my hair to stand on end but my face is schooled into perfect indifference. I allow my expression to portray only mild concern for the safety of our nation and that gets under his skin more than anything.

“If that is the position that you wish to maintain, then so be it.”

I roll my eyes at him and his flash with rage for a brief moment. The king settles back into his chair as he smirks at me, “you are my most sought after diplomat, are you not?”

Where is he going with this? I think to myself while I nod.

“Of course you are. You have your father’s legendary silver tongue. I should think that you would be the perfect person to forge an alliance on the nation’s behalf.``

My heart stills while my body becomes completely frigid. Suddenly the thick fabrics of my skirts and tight corset are useless against the chill that has begun to creep up my spine. The king holds back an all out grin and clenches his jaw. The action tightens and sharpens his already pronounced jaw, giving him the appearance akin to a statue. A crown of graying black waves adores his head but it does nothing to soften the severe look on his tanned face. “I have arranged for you to travel to the Dragonic capital and broker a peace treaty of sorts between us and them. We cannot allow this war to rage on any longer if they intend to ally themselves with the Elven counsel. This nation will not survive.”

“You expect me to do what?” I snarl with a curl of my lip which sends the entire room on high alert. Pepper gasps as she steps behind Anthony and the guards have arranged themselves in a defensive circle.

The king on his feet in seconds, brandishing a dull sword and pointing it at me albeit still a safe distance away. My gaze makes a slow path from the pathetic sword to his furious face. It is not the first time that he’s drawn a weapon on me and I doubt it will be the least.

“Your father is the reason this nation is all but decimated and it will be you who corrects that mistake. You will do as I demand of you and you will do it well if you wish for your mother to live.”

“You would not dare.” I hiss at him as I step closer. He steps back and says my name but I interrupt him with a roar of anger.

“You cannot expect me to willingly walk into a viper’s den, provoke the beast within, and survive, let alone make it obey me. You must know that this means almost certain death for me and I will fail. It is an impossible task, your highness. I will not do it.”

He hesitates, something that I haven’t seen him do ever, and I want to take pride in being the one to cause his hesitation but it’s short lived. His lip curls up into a nasty smirk as he sneers at me and circles his desk to stand mere inches from me.

“We might share blood but you are not my step daughter or family in any sense of the word. You are an abomination, a blight upon this earth. You are a dark stain in the fabric of our history and one that I will spend the remainder of my reign trying to scrub clean. You are a beastly girl who knows no discipline nor manners and nothing can forgive the torment that you've put this court through. Understand that is a blessing and that I should sentence you to death outright for simply being the offspring of the Failed King.”

Too caught up in the king’s self-serving monologue, I’d failed to hear the sound of thundering wings and the dreadful slap of scaled boots marching towards the battle room. I’d missed how the palace seemed to shrink around us in fear while its enemy stormed its halls with permission. I’d missed how only Anthony and I remained while the others had fled for their safety. I’d failed to notice that the air grew hazy and thick with smoke instead of tension as I had assumed.

Just as I catch the scent of burnt embers, I turn to glance over my shoulder and see the most important thing that I had failed to notice; a knight clad in iridescent black armor who is standing just behind me.

Towering above everyone and everything in the room, the knight seems to be almost double the size of any mortal man I know. As I spin to face it, the hulking frame shrouds me in complete darkness. My eyes make the nearly seven foot long ascent to where a face might be if it weren’t for the helmet that chills me to my core as I recognize it.

It’s the helmet of a Dragonborn knight.

They all wear the same sleek black helmet that resembles their beastly forms; six large horn-like spikes that stretch from the sides and top while the chin comes to a narrow point like a dragon’s nose. The helmet is otherwise plain with engravings or markings to decorate it aside from two sets of ruby glass eyes that stare down at me. It covers the knight’s entire face and head, leaving not even a sliver of skin or strand of hair to be seen. Save for the nature creases where the armor is cut to allow for movement, it lacks any decorations or embellishments much like the helmet. I’d once been told that it’s iridescent quality was due to the fact it was made from their dragon form’s scales instead of metal like mortal knights’ but I’ve never been close enough to one to ask. This is the first time I've been close to a Dragonborn at all, knight or not. My father had allowed a handful of their diplomats into the palace before his death but they’d used they’re mortal forms and only stayed for however long was absolutely necessary. I scarcely remember them aside from their silently menacing presence that would engulf rooms before they walked in and the scent of burnt embers that clung to their skin. Aside from those few past encounters, my knowledge comes from the journals I’ve snuck into the palace but nothing would’ve prepared me for this moment.

The knight simply stares down at me with those double ruby eyes before lifting its head to look at Anthony. With its gaze off of me, I look around it to see that there are only three more Dragonborn knights. Given how hostile our nations’ relationship has been, I would’ve expected to see a small army. Instead it seems that their leader did not think they would face much resistance or maybe these knights are more vicious than I’d been led to believe.

Anthony lets out a shuddered breath before he speaks, “You will leave with them in two days time.”

The knight glances back at me. The clawed gauntlets that cover its hands make a small noise when they come to rest on the hilt of a onyx greatsword. It stiles a cord of deep rooted terror within me that I can’t stop from setting ablaze to my nerves.

they’re not like us

they’re not like us

they’re not like us

It echoes throughout my mind while we stare at each other. The knight cocks its head and I can only assume it's studying me as I am it.

Anthony’s unsteady footsteps stop me from getting caught up entirely in the knight before me.

“She’ll never forgive you,” I whisper without looking away from the knight. I don’t need to look to know that my cowardly stepfather is retreating to safety and leaving me with these monstrous knights.

“She’ll be more thankful that her true daughters are alive.”

The other knights approach us, causing Anthony to let out a shaky chuckle in fear and stumble as he steps back.

One speaks, his gravelly voice rumbles the walls of this weak palace and shakes dust all around us, “The binding ceremony will take place tonight. Have you made the preparations as requested?”

I hear Anthony mumble something along the lines of ‘yes’ with a rambling of nervous explanations. The only words I can focus on are “binding ceremony”. They fall off my tongue in confusion and disbelief without me realizing.

“For your protection,” another more guttural voice answers. It’s quieter, one could not call it gentle but the low tone might be considered such to their kind. The knight before me waits for me to say something and when I don’t, he adds, “you will be safe with us. No harm shall befall you under our guard.”

A sarcastic chuckle wants to spill out but I keep my lips sealed. Safety is an illusion for any member of the royal family and it’s one that I saw through many years ago. I have no doubt that the knights will protect me as long as I prove useful but the moment an alliance is forged, that protection will end. Anthony will kill me the moment I step foot back into his nation and I have no allies of my own to rely on me.

The reality of this cruel world is more evident than ever before; I must find a way to secure my own protection and I will do that by whatever means necessary.

[buckets-and-trees]

Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Fandom: MCU Title: Desperate Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k 

Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more? 

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 

Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 

You were incoherent and not far from feral. 

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you. 

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 

This was a new hell you would have to endure. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

x

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[holylulusworld]

Double the love

Summary: Two for the price of one.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Mafia!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, betrayal, lies, secrets, arguments, kinda kidnapping, a little violence/mentions of violence

Catch up here: Fool me twice & Double the trouble

Back at your apartment, you’re fuming. It could’ve been such a nice day if not for Nick and Bucky ruining it from the start. You didn’t even get the chance to have breakfast in silence. No. They had to grab you and storm out of the diner.

“So, you told your brother to watch over me only for your enemies to find out you both want me?” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at both men. They invaded not only your life but your small apartment too. “Good job, Mr. Barnes. You protected me very well. Not only from getting fucked by a stranger but your enemies too.”

Nick huffs. He expected as much. “Colibri, let us explain.”

“Yeah, explain to me that you led your enemies, stone-cold killers on top of all, straight to my place.” You pout and angrily stomp your foot when Nick dares to grab the ugly bear he won for you at the fair.  “Hey, take your hands off, Mr. Bear!”

“You kept it.” Nick grins while his brother is pacing the room. Bucky is about to just grab you and run. He doesn’t have time to explain that their enemies could strike at any moment.

“It accidentally ended up in my suitcase,” you lie, and look away. Nick doesn’t need to know that you can’t sleep without the ugly bear. “Now give it back!”

“Why?” He holds it above his head and smirks. “If you don’t want anything reminding you of our time together, we can just throw it away.”

“Give it back.” You jump up, trying the grab the bear. “I’m warning you!” You angrily kick his shin. He yelps and drops the bear. “I warned you.”

Bucky laughs loudly. “You let her kick you?” He snorts. “That’s what you get for messing with her bear.”

“That’s what you get for messing with me, Barnes,” you growl in Bucky’s direction. “Now get out of my apartment!”

“Doll, I told you on our way here that we cannot leave you. One of our enemies knows about you, Y/N. He will hurt you or worse get back at Nick and me. Please don’t put yourself in danger by sending us away.”

If your mom didn’t raise you better, you’d love to yell at Bucky, or at least give him the stinky eye. You pucker your lips instead and glare at Bucky.

“I didn’t put myself in danger!” You raise your voice. “You put me in danger. Why couldn’t you leave me alone? Why pretending to be someone else, and letting that pervert watch over me.”

Nick looks offended at your words. Usually, he’d put you over his lap and spank your ass. He hums and bites his lower lip because he can’t put his hands on you. Not now, and not in front of his brother.

“What do you expect me to do now,” you huff, annoyed because the brothers ruined your fresh start too. “I can’t just drop everything and run. I built a new life in this little town.”

“Baby doll, you don’t have to run,” Bucky softly says while stepping closer to you. He gets closer and closer until he can wrap his arms around your waistline. “Now, Nick. We’ve got no choice.”

“Remember, this was your idea,” Nick grumbles. He gets a syringe out, murmuring an apology as you throw insults at both men. You wiggle in Bucky’s grip and growl at Nick. “Sorry, Colibri. It’s for the best. Rumlow and his allies are on their way here. We only try to protect you.”

“I’ll kill you all,” you grunt and slap the bear in Bucky’s face. “I dare you to poke me with that thing.” You’re furious and try to get away from the syringe. “I hate needles…I hate them.”

“If you agree to come with us, we don’t need the needle,” Bucky purrs your name. He nuzzles his face in your neck, sighing as you try to fend Nick off with the bear. “I know you’re angry at us, but please let us protect you.”

You hold still for a second, eyes darting from Nick to the syringe and Bucky.

“Get away from me with that needle.” Lips pursed you prepare yourself to go for a sprint the moment Bucky releases you. “I’ll let you explain things if you put the needle away.”

Nick looks at his brother. He’d hate to use the syringe. It’s worse enough that you hate him now and won’t even look at him for longer than a moment. “Buck?”

“Okay, doll. I’ll let you go, and we will sit on the sofa and talk. I’m sorry we tried to do it the easy way.” Bucky slowly releases you. He steps away and nods at his brother. “Let’s talk then.”

You flash Nick a smile before you bolt toward the door. Fingertips touching the door handle, you giggle. You tricked them well and will just start anew somewhere else.

“Bad move, Colibri.” This time, Nick wraps his arm around your waistline. “I thought we were making progress. Do you want me to spank your ass for being a bad girl?”

You whimper. “No…”

“Would you look at our great escapist, Nick,” Bucky purrs your name, and steps closer to cup your cheek. “Doll, I’m disappointed.” You curse his name and threaten to cut off his cock. “Now let’s not use these words.” Bucky softly kisses your cheek. “We only want to talk.”

They had to use the syringe on you because you tried to escape more than once. Now you sit in the living room of Bucky’s place, calling them names. With your arms crossed over your chest, you watch them warily.

“Assholes! You used the syringe,” you snap at them. “How could you?”

“You tried to stab me with a cactus,” Nick mutters. “That hurt, Colibri. You didn’t have to poke my ass with it.”

“I hope there are holes in your ass now,” you grin victoriously at Bucky because he didn’t get away easily either. He’s got a black eye, and his hair is missing a few strands. 

“Doll, stop this now,” Bucky raises his voice. He pokes your nose with his index finger, smirking. “We promised to tell you everything, and we will.”

“I hope you’ll get bald.” It’s childish, but you feel like you won because you got the two mobsters good.

Bucky cups your face, thumb running over your lower lip. “You’re dangerous, and not nice. Where is the sweet girl I fell in love with?”

“Maybe she doesn’t like getting tricked, or called girl,” you say, glaring at Bucky. “I only wanted to live my life without getting fucked over by you and your brother. Now you stole that from me too. Just like my dream of the future with you got destroyed. All I got is double the trouble.”

“Baby doll,” Bucky whispers your name and leans closer. “You got double the love too.”

Tags in reblog.

[therenlover]

Always For A Second (Usually At The Start) - A Helmut Zemo x Reader fic

"And when I imagine life when it's mine / I can try to picture faceless folk to love a thousand times / But always for a second, and usually at the start / You're in the image posing with a cradled beating heart" - Katie Gregson MacLeod, i'm worried it will always be you

Synopsis: Leaving Helmut for good had been the biggest, most final choice you'd ever had to make. Two years later, he's in your living room again. This time, though, things are different.

Tags: Explicit Smut (+18), Exes, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch!Zemo, Oral (Fem Receiving), Service Top!Zemo, Aftercare, Bucky is Mentioned Too Much

Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 8,600~

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

“I didn’t expect you to come crawling back so soon, schatz,”

The restaurant was crowded enough that nobody heard Helmut’s words, curt and cloying and so fucking familiar. Still, my face heated. It always would for him, no matter how much my common sense protested by body’s reactions. How dare he be so damn effective at getting under my skin? 

Some over-expensive brown liquor sloshed against the rim of the glass in my hand as I lifted it less than gracefully from the table, dribbling down the edge of my mouth as I guided it to my lips and drank deeply. “For one, two years isn’t soon,” I started, swallowing. “Two, you’re the asshole who showed up in my apartment like a robber, which makes you the one who came crawling back. I was just nice enough to let you take me for a free meal to get you the hell out. Three,” I set the glass down sharply, “don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I still haven’t forgiven you,” 

“Apologies,” 

He didn’t mean it. 

“Still, it’s too soon to expect any sort of kindness from you,” he continued, “If I recall correctly, you said you’d rather die than suffer through another night with me for the rest of eternity. I believe an eternity has yet to pass… and yet, here we are,”

His matter of fact tone left little up for debate, unless I wanted to reach for my fork and maim his smug face. Instead, I bit my tongue and swallowed another mouthful of whatever I was drinking.

For once I was glad to be surrounded by the kind of noisy, faceless jumble of humanity that usually made my skin crawl. F. Scott Fitzgerald was on to something with his theories on large crowds and intimacy; there was no better place for two war criminals to meet than the corner booth of a hazy restaurant, lounging and drinking, covered by the blanket of sweet anonymity. Anyone who glanced our way would see two normal human beings sharing a meal in peaceable silence, sharing sparse conversation between bites of this and that. 

They would see lovers.

The thought left a lump in my throat. 

Maybe I looked uncomfortable enough that they would presume, correctly, that we were ex-lovers. I wasn’t hopeful about it, though. 

Helmut noticed, of course, but I knew he would. He had always had an almost supernatural sense for these things, like he could tune into my emotional radio on a frequency I didn’t even fully know myself. Enemy or ally or… otherwise, it was a constant to be seen through and picked apart like carrion. An appetizer for the fights to come. Thankfully, though, he chose to have mercy on me this time in a rare show of respect. Instead of wrapping his lips around another snide comment- even though I could tell it was burning a bitter hole into the tip of his tongue behind his clenched teeth- he chose to pick up a ring of calamari from the plate between us. He held it up to examine the crust in the dim lamplight before placing it delicately against his lips, pulling it from the fork in one bite. Still, he couldn’t be too gracious. Helmut held eye contact as he went.

I could only managed a disgusted sigh but found myself mirrored as his teeth sunk into the squid and his brow furrowed. 

“Bad?” I asked.

He chewed for a good while before managing to swallow the offending clump down, gagging all the way. “Despite my recent diet, that might be the worst thing I’ve eaten in a long while,”

A laugh escaped me before I even knew it was there. “You managed to pick a restaurant where our appetizer is worse than prison food? Serves you right for ordering seafood in the midwest,” 

“I suppose it does.” He nudged the plate towards me with a growing smirk, “See for yourself. I’d hate to see it wasted, and as you said, it is ours. I can’t be expected to finish it alone,” 

As if under the spell of his charisma all over again, I followed his instructions without a second thought. It was just as bad as I anticipated. 

Things were off to a bad start from the moment the tines of my fork hit the batter. The breading seemed to squelch under the pressure, sagging and giving way into meat that was somehow both rubbery and gelatinous, if that was even possible, and if the texture seemed bad outside of my mouth it was even worse inside. Somewhere between its fishy tang and the overly salted batter, there was a bitter, almost sour note that seemed to permeate further with every chew. I spit the macerated glob into my napkin before even attempting to swallow down the remaining spit. 

Across the table, Zemo grinned at my misfortune. “Let’s hope our entrees are less offensive to our palettes,” 

“Fuck off,” I muttered, lips turning up at the edges. 

“You can curse all you want at my poor choice of venue, but I can tell you’re glad you’re the one who ordered the pasta instead of the steak,” 

I went for my glass again, letting the liquor with a name I couldn’t pronounce burn all the way down my throat and into my chest. “I hate that you’re always right, Helmut. Can’t you be wrong, just once? Leave some correctness for the rest of us,” 

Maybe it was the lighting, soft and amber against the dark wood of the table to mask the bloody steaks that would sit below, or maybe it was the music, something old and swinging that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but knew from the radio in my grandmother’s car as a child, or maybe, just maybe, it was the crows feet that popped up around Helmut’s eyes when he smiled that hadn’t been quite so prominent the last time I’d seen him, but no matter the cause, the solid iron wall I had put up around my heart when I walked out of the Baron’s life those two year sago seemed to soften. Weakened, somehow. It was like someone took a blowtorch right to the center of my defenses. Something in me screamed that they had never been all that strong to begin with. 

I only noticed I’d been staring when he looked away, clearing his throat and wiping his thin mouth with the napkin from his lap. 

There went my hand. Helmut, 1. Me, 0… Well, 1, if leaving him those years ago counted for anything, and I refused to believe that it hadn’t. That the blow to his ego hadn’t given me at least a slight upper hand compared to the naive girl I had been in comparison when I first met him. There had been so much good in the world then. 

The silence dragged on as if the structural flaws of my guarded heart could patch themselves up with the defenses created from just a few silent moments between us. That’s all it would take for me to remember all the reasons this would never work: all the pain, the sleepless nights, the snide comments that turned into biting replies that grew into massive, earth-shattering fights that exploded into days or weeks or months living alone in a house with him. One by one, the memories flooded back, reminding me exactly why it had taken me almost two years to find enough peace within myself that I wouldn’t decide to shoot the man in front of me on sight. My heart hardened by the second.

“I saw your concert,” 

I was simultaneously thawed and frozen all over again. “How did you-“ 

“James mentioned it,” 

“You still talk to Bucky?” 

“Here and there,” 

The conversation lapsed into silence. 

He had… been there? I didn’t even bother to think about the talk I’d have to have with Bucky about my privacy, too focused on the more important matter at hand. 

The venue was grungy, a basement bar with a small stage serving the communities aspiring comedians and desperate punk-rock garage dwellers just waiting for their big break. I had barely had the guts to pay the booking fee, though. It was just me, a piano, and my guitar for an hour and a half set of mostly cover songs that had gone better than I’d expected, but hadn’t been anything crazy. The crowd was appreciative and respectful. Several people had left tips, even more giving me a congratulatory clap on the back as I left the building that night, promising to “stream my EP” whenever I released it, despite the fact that I had no plans to do any such thing. Still, I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t seen his face in the crowd. I couldn’t name what I was feeling as I imagined it; visualized his face on the other side of the smoky room, leaned against the bar with his dark eyes catching hold of mine…

“You came and you didn’t say anything? Not even a hello?” 

Helmut laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “And risk my life over a free concert? No.” He paused, “Despite my tendency to sometimes be… less than kind, I knew it would rattle you to see me. I didn’t want to throw you off before your performance.” 

I didn’t have much of anything to say in response. Instead, I picked at the paper straw wrapper in my lap and tried to look anywhere but in his direction, shoving down whatever was welling up in my chest. He wouldn’t let things go, though. He never could. That was half of why we’d never work. Every time I tried to drop an uncomfortable subject he’d be there to pick it up with a snide comment or two. It was an easy rhythm. Too easy. I had never wanted to fall back into it and yet, here I was, almost excited to snipe his next words down. 

“Cain misses you,” He continued. 

I folded the straw wrapper in my hands, pulling at the crease as I thought about the doberman puppy I had left behind. He would be so big now, as big as the one I’d taken with me was now. My heart ached at the thought. 

“I doubt he remembers me after all this time,” 

“Of course he does,” Helmut’s voice was low. It was almost hypnotic, the way he carried himself. He could fool anyone. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my stomach that couldn’t have been the calamari, he could still fool me. “He’s quite the troublemaker. More times than I can count he’s evaded me in the house, only to be found asleep in your old closet. I think he remembers your scent,” 

“Thats…” I sat quiet for a moment, pursing through choices of words in my mind, mulling over the sharp accented way he pronounced the t in scent, “Sad. Really sad. Makes me wish I could’ve taken them both,” 

“And what of Brutus?”

“He’s good,” A smile crossed my face. “Big, as you saw tonight. I remember when we got them, they told us they’d be 60 pounds at most, but I swear Brutus must’ve snuck in with the rest of those puppies, because he’s massive. Headbutts me every time I walk through the door wondering where I was. He’s a good boy, though. Keeps watch while I sleep, just in case.”

“Just in case I decided to let myself in through the window one night?”

I let myself laugh without judgement this time, reaching for my water. “Looks like it was all for nothing, then. Who knew he’d just let intruders come waltzing in off of the fire escape?” 

“Am I truly considered an intruder in your home?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious. As if there were any other answer I could possibly give. As if I could’ve wanted him there. His earnestness almost hurt as much as his taunting did, maybe more, because even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, there was a soft ring of truth to his words. 

I took the cowards way out. “I don’t know, what do you think?” 

It was a vulnerability to not give a straight answer, the kind of weak spot that Helmut would catch wind of in an instant before using it to unravel someone piece by piece. Not a no, but certainly not a yes, and the fact that it hadn’t been a resounding yes was enough to glean that maybe, deep down, I wasn’t hating this dinner. He would see through me. Rip me to shreds for the subtle admittance that I hadn’t hated seeing him waiting for me on the couch when I walked through my door, even if I hadn’t expected or wanted him there in the first place. 

I found it was better to lie by omission than to fully lie and let him see through me to the more important truth; For as much as I despised everything about him, I had missed Helmut Zemo. I had missed his stupid expensive taste and the tilt of his stupid head and his stupid shiny white smile. I had missed seeing his coat hung up beside the door and knowing what waited for me inside. It was sick how I had loved him. How I had loved every minute of him picking me apart by the seams and putting me back together. Who could possibly crave their own destruction? Who could live knowing that to be loved was to be deconstructed down to the bone and laid bare as something lesser, something so small compared to the great destroyer I devoted myself to. 

How could he let me live like that if he truly saw through me? 

And that was why I had to leave. 

Loving Helmut Zemo was no way to live. I knew that. I had known that the day I picked up my dog and walked out of our home with nothing but my wallet, car keys, phone, and a polaroid picture of his silhouette. Somehow, I knew that he knew that too. Why else would I move on so suddenly, so sharply, removing every piece of the life we’d built to start myself fresh? A new me, I had said. A new chapter. Yet here I was across from him, shredded bits of paper littering my lap as he puppeteered my heart right back into his arms. 

No. I couldn’t let it happen. 

Not again. 

“Listen, baron,” I didn’t let him answer my rhetorical question. It wouldn’t be wise to let him gain the upper hand again. It wouldn’t be smart to let myself stay weak. “I appreciate dinner. It’s been surprisingly lovely to catch up with you. I’m glad to know you’re not dead, and its great to know Cain is doing well, but I know you weren’t here to tell me that over a plate of mediocre pasta,” 

Helmut smiled, his head in its signature tilt, and swished his own glass a bit. The ice was all but melted giving the liquor an almost clear quality as it diluted. Not a sip had been taken. “Ask the question, schatz,” 

“Why are you here? Why did you stalk me here and break into my apartment when I made it clear that you weren’t welcome in my life?” My words came out so matter of fact even I almost recoiled at them. Not unemotional but detached. 

“Um, who had the chicken alfredo?”

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked up at the poor waiter, hot plates in hand, as he took in our table at just the wrong time. Five minutes earlier he would have walked in on polite conversation about the dogs or the shitty appetizers. Now, though, he stood between a man who was known to kill for the things he wanted and me, the one thing he could never have again. 

Surprisingly, though, Helmut waved a hand towards me as I froze. There were none of the usual dramatics, just polite chatter with the waiter as he set my plate in front of me and left Helmut with his, taking the offending calamari plate away with him as he scurried away, surely to tell his coworkers about the crazy exes at the corner table. Helmut didn't even carry on with his answer. He just started tucking in to his steak and potatoes, not sparing me a single glance. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t memorized the way his eyes looked in the low light of a restaurant across from me, I would think he’d been replaced by a skrull.

Where was the tearing? The shredding? The utter evisceration of my waiting throat as he drank deeply of my darkest, most shameful thoughts only to spit them out for the world to see. Where was that shame? In the before times, in the times that the two of us had been a we, he never would have paused to mind a waiter. The world would have revolved around him as he laid me bare, no matter who watched or waited in the wings. What changed? 

How had I not noticed his docility until now?

The pasta was decent. It was better than anything I would’ve made at home, at least. I barely thought about it, though, letting my body go through the motions of eating mechanically while my mind went over a million things I could say. What could I say? There was nothing left to. We had gone over every possibility before I had left, at least I thought we had. Whatever we were was dead. That was certain. But what we could be…

I swallowed hard before I could choke on a relatively large piece of broccoli I neglected to chew in my trance. 

Helmut seemed to be in a painfully similar situation. One look at his plate showed a steak cut into tiny pieces. Almost none of it looked eaten, just diced into a pile and shuffled around a bit on the plate to mix with the potatoes, smashed down from their neat ice cream scoop globe and spread with the back of a fork. 

With a sigh, I set down my fork, pasta already forgotten. 

“Lost your appetite?” 

He paused his fiddling with his fork and knife, mirroring me and letting the utensils rest on the table beside his plate. It was odd to see him rattled. Strange to watch his eyes roll up to the ceiling and pause there, as if he was searching for the right words to say. He always knew just what to say to cut the deepest. Maybe it was foreign for him to not want to cut; To find a soft word, instead of a sharpened one. His mouth opened one… two…three times. Open and shut, open and shut. I couldn’t help but hurt for him. The man of many words was finally struck dumb. 

Finally, it came. 

“I’m sorry,” 

I had anticipated a selfish reply, a demand for me to come back and put the past two years behind us, but time had changed him. It had changed us both. He was no longer the man he had been when he was first freed from behind bars, vengeful and biting and so deeply afraid of being alone again, but I was no longer the lost girl I had been either. I did not need to be destroyed to breathe. I could feel tears pricking up in my eyes as he reached a hand across the table to search for my own. It was such a familiar sight in a time of uncertainty. I kept my hands firmly in my lap, though. I would not give him the satisfaction. 

More, I would not give him hope.

“Come home, schatz,”  

There it was. 

I couldn’t hold in the bitter, wet laugh that bubbled up through me, more at my own foolishness than at anything else. He had changed, yes, but some things never would. 

“Helmut,” The word hurt to say. It was altogether both familiar and unfamiliar, covered in a thick layer of dust from time, but nothing could erase the fact that it had once been used over and over, like a prayer, as easy as breathing or saying my own name. “You know I can’t,” 

He let his hand slink back to his side. “I had to try, you know,”

“I know,” The words were a whisper. 

So this was closure? 

The table was quiet. There was no desperation from Helmut’s side, no attempts to sway me or sudden outbursts of resentment. It was almost peaceful. His voice was sad but there was no manipulation in it. We laid our cards of the table as the game we’d played for years finally came to an end. 

“You were right about us, when you left,” he laughed, “I was, as you so aptly put it, a massive ass. I was still so deeply disillusioned about this world and the horrors of it. It was as if everyone around me was just another cog in it all, even you. I thought if I could puppet it all, make things go my way, everything could just be quiet. The horrors would finally stop. The memories would finally stop. I took it too far, though. I took it out on you. For that, I will never be sorry enough,” 

I put up a hand. “Helmut, you don’t have to do this-“

“I want to,”

His voice was delicate but didn’t waver. For the first time I wondered if this was more about what he needed to say than about what I needed to hear. I nodded him on. Without me even thinking about what I was doing, my hand caught his across the table.

“I wanted to run after you the same day you left. I nearly did, too, before I thought better of it. Then I really thought of what you said. What I did. It was then that I decided I had to change for the better, not for you but for myself. Only then would I allow myself to try again. So I did. I spent my time deconstructing the things I had seen and done and finally facing my own demons. I’m not perfect- believe me -but there are many things I have… worked on, for lack of a better word. James was surprisingly helpful throughout it all,” 

“Is that why you’ve been talking?” My thumb stroked over his knuckles, pausing on a scar. 

“More or less. I needed advice on how to overcome my atrocities, and I owed him an apology either way. He told me about your concert because he thought I would be ready to make amends, and yet I found myself unable to speak to you because I knew that if I did, I would have to beg you for forgiveness, and that is not something I will allow myself to do from anyone. Not now, nor ever,”

I let myself pull away. This was not a movie. There was no happy ending for the two of us at the end of this conversation. It was a chance to clear the air and let go of our grievances before going our separate ways. Treating it any other way would only hurt us both. “Why break in, then, and drag this all out over dinner? Why not just knock on my door, apologize, and leave?”

“I couldn’t have you slamming the door in my face and leaving me to apologize to the wall, now could I?” 

We shared a sad smile, a knowing one. “I guess that’s true.” 

“I needed to know you would hear what I had to say until the end,” he paused, “And one last confession. I must admit, I could not walk away without sharing dinner with you one last time. It’s selfish, as I am selfish, but I could not see you again without truly seeing you, more than just as you shouted at me and threw me to the curb,” 

“You think so little of me?” I asked. There was no bite in it. 

“No, I think so little of myself,” he finally took a sip from his glass, “Any anger on your part is warranted,” 

We did not speak again for a long while. Helmut methodically went through the bite-sized pieces of steak on his plate as I finished the alfredo, which had grown cold in the time it took to sort things out. There was no quiet conversation, no jokes or shared stories in the glow of the lamps overhead. Instead we sat in peaceable silence and breathed in the finality of it all. I was almost grateful for it. I never would have imagined sharing a meal like this with him in all of the years I had known him and loved him. If it was to be the last, and it was, we would savor every moment of each others company. Every moment not spent on my meal was devoted to memorizing the line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes as he did the same for me. 

By the time the waiter came to ask about dessert, I could have written sonnets about his face alone, and by the time he returned with the check, paid discreetly with a 40% tip for his troubles on Helmut’s card, I had committed the sound of his breathing to my mind. I could only hope the memory would last this time.

Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t. 

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as we approached the front of the restaurant together, pausing awkwardly outside the door as we exited out onto the street. 

“So, this is it,” My hands found the pockets of my coat as I rocked onto the balls of my feet. 

Helmut smiled softly in the lamplight. “Let me walk you home,” 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” 

“Says who? I have to follow you either way, my car is parked down the block,” He offered me his arm. 

I took it far quicker than I should have, relishing in the scent of his cologne. Even after all these years he had never switched to another brand, and I refused to admit to anyone else but myself that I was grateful for it. Instead I leaned into his warmth. “Well, it’s only a few blocks anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and with that, we were off. 

The night was cool. Summer had given in to the pull of a lush fall, the temperatures dropping to a comfortable but windy chill when the sun fell below the horizon. The leaves were not yet falling but they’d begun their slow transformation from green into a mosaic of reds and yellows and greens, forming a rustling canopy above the sidewalk that allowed a flash of stars and moon through the foliage every few steps. 

We were not the only pair walking through the streets that night, but if you had asked me about it later I would have said we were the only two people in the whole city, matching each other step for step under the flickering streetlights. Helmut’s crows feet were in full force as he laughed at my terrible jokes, and I couldn’t help but feel warmth rush through my neck and cheeks as he recounted the moment we first met. 

It had been fall then, too. A brief, chance encounter in the streets of Paris was all it was, a night spend with a stranger, until I had seen him again in Sibera, and again in Germany, and again on the Raft, and again, and again, and again, and again…

He had been younger then, much younger, and still raw with grief, but I had loved him even then.

I was so lost in my own memories that I almost missed the stairs up to my apartment, but Helmut paused there, keeping me rooted with him even though the look in his eyes told me he almost kept walking past, hoping to gain one more turn around the block before he had to let me go. He didn't, though. This was the end of the line. 

My arm slipped easily from its place against his own, hand catching briefly on the crook of his elbow. “Walk me to my door?”

His laugh felt almost nervous, a paid mockery of my own earlier reticence. “I don’t think that’s wise,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman, baron?” 

“I have never claimed that,” For a moment, when he paused, I thought that would be that. I would turn my back, ascend the stairs, and turn around to find he’d shifted back into the shadows from whence he came, but then the moonlight caught on his soft, wet eyes. “But for you, schatz, I try to be,” 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say as we walked up the front steps and into the building. 

It had been so angry last time. I had vomited up every hateful, raging, repressed thought that I had shoved down into my chest over the course of our turbulent time together all at once and left without a second glance. This time, though, it felt wrong to end things without giving him credit for all of the other things, the things I had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded us. How could I thank him? How could I tell him every wonderful thing about himself only to close the door in his face a moment later? I spent the whole trip up to my apartment trying to find a way to express even an ounce of what I felt, and then it was far too late. 

We stood there on my novelty doormat, boots settled over the dirty cartoon chickens, hands in our pockets, and breathed in the stale hallway air. 

“Thank you for dinner,” I said. If I shut off my heart and my mind and every other little betraying ache in my bones it was like it had been all those years ago. We were just meeting. This was the end of our very first date. There was a future instead of a past in the time that lay beyond us. 

Helmut averted his eyes from mine. I could tell he was pretending too. “Of course,” 

“I’ll see you again,” I lied, “I mean, it’s inevitable. We’ll end up at Bucky’s place at the same time,” 

“Or run into each other at a busy cafe,” he offered. 

“Exactly! Or our cells will end up next to each other in maximum security prison,” I laughed, but it caught, pathetic, in the back of my throat.  

He took a step back, boots leaving my doorstep. “I look forward to it, whenever it may be,” 

My shaking hands found my keys, an autopilot motion I had done a million times, and the door to my apartment swung open. I could hear Brutus in his kennel, beginning to whine the moment he heard me come home, but I paused there for a moment, one foot in and one foot out. 

“Goodbye, Helmut,” 

“Sleep well, schatz,” 

I stepped inside and locked the door without turning around for a last look. 

My tears came quicker than expected as I took in the room around me. It was the antithesis of my home with Helmut, all whites and beiges and grays from the sparse walls to the lonely couch against the wall. There was one great shock of black, though; a solid footprint on the windowsill. One last souvenir to remember him by. 

I had done the right thing. 

I had to have done the right thing. 

Life with Helmut was hell. It was exciting and lush and romantic and alluring but it was destructive and painful too. It would mean being seen and unseen for the rest of my life, living with the ghosts of those lost in Novi Grad. He would never stop being the man his grief had created. He was just too broken… wasn’t he? 

All at once I knew I had to see him again. This wasn’t going to be the end. There were still so many chances to make it right. 

Before I knew my own feelings, I was undoing the latch and throwing my door open, only to find him there, feet planted solidly on that stupid welcome mat and fist raised to lift the knocker. Our eyes locked. 

We didn’t need words then. 

No, all I needed was his lips on mine and my hands in his hair. It was a need easily rectified. 

He didn’t pull away as I grabbed the edges of his ridiculous fur coat and dragged him in for a kiss, letting the remains of that day’s lipstick smear against his chapped lips as the parted and made way for me. It was like a piece of my puzzle fell back into place, like the thing that had been lying dormant in my empty chest for the past two years had jumped to life and jumped into my throat. The tears weren’t coming anymore, though Helmut’s cheeks felt wet when I guided one of my hands to rest against it, dragging him closer. I needed him urgently. I needed all of it. Every moment I had missed. 

At least one time in my entire tiny, useless life I needed to know him as he had always known me. I had to see him through eyes that would know every atom of him by heart. 

It could have lasted second or hours. I was lost in it; lost in every heartbeat and the messy clack of teeth on teeth as we remembered exactly how our mouths locked into each other. There was no need to breathe. I would happily drown in him if he would let me. Through the passion I distinctly remembered this fervor, the endless need for him. It wasn’t frightening anymore, though. I knew how to walk away. We both did. 

This time I didn’t want to. 

Helmut was the first to pull away. His mouth was wet and red as he panted there, just a breath away from diving in for more, but he pulled away when I advanced again, instead choosing to speak between placing kisses on my cheeks and down my jaw. “I couldn’t let you walk away from me. Not again,” his voice shook as he kissed me, “Does that make me a bad man? Does that mean you can’t love me?” 

I could only breathe a laugh as I pressed my chest to him. No measure of closeness was enough. I needed him to cover every inch of me. “I don’t think I could stop loving you if I tried, and I’ve tried,” 

“Please, stop trying,”

With that, he caught me in another kiss. 

“We should probably go inside,” I panted, gesturing towards the apartment with my head and Helmut nodded, maneuvering us over the threshold and into the barren entryway of the home  I’d made without him. It didn’t matter, though. That wasn’t what I was focused on. Instead, my hands were more focused on pulling his coat from his shoulders and discarding it loosely in the direction of the coat rack between fevered kisses. 

The old Helmut would’ve pulled away and make some snarky remark about keeping the place clean. This Helmut, though- my Helmut, as I had selfishly started to refer to him mentally in the past few moments -just dragged me in closer after his arms were freed, letting his hand drift to the small of my back but not even an inch lower.

Suddenly, though, things seemed to cool. The kisses grew shorter, softer. His arms still held me but seemed to loosen their grip. 

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear, “That you want me,” 

Ah. So that’s what this is. 

“Helmut, of course I do-“ 

“That’s not enough,” his voice was laced with a rare seriousness as he pulled away to look at me properly. His brown eyes glowed a million honeyed colors under the shitty, flickering overhead lighting I should have replaced months ago. They flitted from my swollen mouth to my cheeks to my watery eyes as his hand came up to cup my cheeks again. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake or a bad decision you’ll regret the second we finish,” 

The rest went unsaid. 

(Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me this means something to you, even if it doesn’t mean as much as it does to me. Tell me I won’t wake up alone tomorrow morning. Tell me anything and everything except the cruel reality that neither of us really knows what the future looks like once this is over)

I simply nodded my head, coming in for one closed mouth kiss. “I want this. I want you. Whatever I choose to do next, you’ll be a part of the decision. No more running away,” 

Like a shot, we were off to the races again. 

It was hard to detach our bodies long enough to give Brutus a treat to quiet him down, harder still to lead him to the bedroom and drop his hand long enough to turn on a nearby lamp, but somehow I managed. For all of the small things I’d forgotten about Helmut in the two years we’d spent apart, his bitten nails and the silhouette of his nose and the sound of his labored breathing as he took in my body with something akin to animalistic hunger, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm we’d always found ourselves in intimately. 

His shirt came off first, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. I kissed down from his neck to his chest, letting myself pause on each and every pinkish scar that graced his flesh. I made a mental note to ask him about a few new ones, including a wicked one across his collarbone that still puckered into an inch long divot in his flesh. My fingers followed my mouth, mapping every inch of his flesh. They caught on every soft yielding place he offered, a worship on the altar of his body, dragging his flesh ever so slightly but never enough to leave a scratch or bruise. 

I would not mark him any more than the world already had. It was not my purpose to remold him into my image. Instead I would venerate what he was, what he had become. 

Helmut had put so much effort into changing himself, rebreaking the things that had never healed correctly and setting them right again. I refused to let him break down to splinters again. Not on my watch. 

He shuddered at my attentions. 

“Let me see you?” It was a question, not a demand, and how could I deny him when he asked so nicely? 

I stood up again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against the hem of my t-shirt, the gentle scratch of nails on skin as he lifted it over my head. When he looked at me, it was like he was looking at the most precious thing in the world. Usually he was so hungry for it that there was never a pause once my shirt was discarded. My bra would be thrown off with it, then my pants, then my underwear, all in such quick succession that I barely distinguished one article from the next in the order of things. This time, though, he paused, hands just inches from my bare flesh. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispered to me like a prayer, a confession, “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,” 

Slowly, deliberately, I stepped forward and pressed my body into his awaiting hands. He squeezed my hips once, gentle, and twice. Then they were roaming up to the clasp on my bra with that usual hunger again, freeing my breasts for his attentions. I don’t exactly recall how he manhandled me on to the bed, I was too busy feeling the hard press of his bulge through his crisp dress slacks. The first thing I was fully cognizant of was his hot breath on my sternum as he hovered over me, still standing but bent at the waist, boxing me in with his knees. 

“So fucking sweet,” he whispered before taking one of my nipples between his lips and laving his tongue over the hardening tip. 

I felt like a live wire. Heat was building everywhere. Dazzling electricity shot through my head and fingers and toes and cunt and gods especially my breasts. They were always my weak spot, and how he knew it, how he knew me. I wanted to thrash against him, to buck and gain his attention where I really needed it, but his body above mine held me fast, keeping me right where he wanted me, vulnerable to him and his specific brand of torture. With a particularly sharp pinch and a well timed suck he had me keening against him, curling into his every move. 

How had I lived without him? It was hard to imagine a night not spend here with Helmut, wherever here was, not that that mattered. I was embarrassingly wet. The slickness had gathered enough that I could feel it on my thighs despite my jeans. When I tried to relieve myself, though, the baron caught my hand, tutting softly. 

I expected to have to ask permission. Soft begs escaped my mouth. I needed him. I had no patience for games. Instead, though, he lifted up off of my chest and smiled, pulling my hand to his lips. “Let me help you, love,” 

There are no words in the human language that could adequately represent the sound that escaped my mouth. I could not even begin to try. It continued even as I lifted my hips to shimmy free from my jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, only ceasing when Helmut was on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. I was making different noises then. Loud. Guttural. If I had any mind left at all I would worry what my neighbors thought, to see me out on my doorstep desperately pawing at a man only to hear the noises we were making in tandem now. Thankfully, any sensible thought I had left seemed to fly out the window with Helmut’s first lick to my cunt. 

It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten me, and if he had, the muscle memory was coming back quick. His tongue was deft as it worked its way over my aching nub in a pseudo-figure eight; circling once, twice, and three times before dipping back through my folds. I held him in place this time, though, rocking into his mouth. At some point my hands found their way into his hair. It was so soft between my fingers, so pliable as I pulled against him, desperate for more of him, anything he would good. 

Every time he relented to me. Each sharp jolt was rewarded with a kiss against my thigh or a muttered curse in Sokovian, hot breath teasing my glistening mound. 

He was so giving, so attentive to my every need. He had always been a generous lover, never leaving me wanting for anything, but this felt… different. The way he sucked bruises into my thighs, relenting to each and every sobbing please that escaped my soft lips, was a new and devastating experience. There were no power games left to play, no lording his sexual prowess over me as he brought me slowly closer and closer to the ever distant goalpost, just his mouth on me over and over and over again as he wrung the first orgasm of the night out of me, then the second in short measure, barely ceasing from one to the next.

By the time he decided I’d had my fill, my legs were a trembling mess against his shoulders and my cunt was a sopping mess. 

He grinned a crooked grin at his masterpiece.

“How was that, my love,” 

I could barely catch my breath enough to speak. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, thrumming a frantic drumbeat even as the room quieted. “So good- really really good, Helmut,” 

Slowly, he rose up from his knees, undoing his belt. “Please say my name again, schatz,” 

“Helmut,” My voice was hushed. Reverent. 

He undid the button at his fly, pulling at the band of his boxers. “Again,” 

It fell from my lips like a prayer. “Helmut,”

His cock bounced free, bobbing as he took a sharp, steadying breath. He placed his hand at the base and squeezed slightly. 

“Again,” 

“Helmut,” 

“Fuck, that’s good,” The trance broke momentarily as I gazed up at him, watching the sweat roll down his forehead in shining rivulets despite the chill in the air. He wiped at them with the back of his free hand and smiled sheepishly. “Scoot back and get comfortable, please. I don’t think I’ll last long,” 

I did as he asked, settling against my pillows on the still-made sheets. “Neither will I,” 

“Where are your condoms?” 

“Bedside drawer, way in the back. I’m on the pill too, so no worries,” 

He moved quickly, grabbing a foil package from the small pile I’d accrued, just in case. 

It felt odd to have him be the one using them. 

There had been a few other men who had been invited here, fewer still that made it to the point that Helmut and I were at now. Every time, though, I hadn’t been able to go through with it, because every time they had finally settled themselves above me, I would close my eyes and, just for a moment, see Helmut in their place. It was unsettling the first time, enough so that I sent the guy home right away. The next time, though, it was more thought provoking than anything. I chalked it up to him being my longest lasting sexual partner and left it at that, but now, watching him roll the condom onto his length and crawl into his position over me, I knew. 

I would never get over him, even if I tried for years. My heart had a space carved out in the shape of his own. No matter how long I stayed away, I would never find something quite like what we had. He was it. This was what people dreamed about. And to think, I had almost let it slip away…

He slid one hand into mine, lacing our fingers together in the gentle lamplight. “Are you ready for me?” 

“More than ready,” My thighs spread as I canted my hips up.

Physically and mentally and every other possible way I needed him. I was prepared. 

So Helmut pumped himself once with his free hand before guiding himself into my wet heat. 

It was impossible to last long once we were finally complete. 

Feeling him inside me was like knowing the truth of the universe. It was comfortable, and thrilling, and so deliciously enough. He filled me well, finding his rhythm as he swore and released my hand to prop himself up more comfortably. We were linked together like the final pieces of a puzzle. I closed my eyes at let myself relish in it. 

There was nothing left to worry over while Helmut was inside of me. All thoughts that weren’t of him were banished. It was something to be cherished, every thrust paired with a whispered confession of love from one of us, a fleeting kiss, a curse, a plea… We laid ourselves bare. I let my legs wrap around his warm, soft hips as he rutted into me, bringing a hand between us to circle my clit once more. Even after everything he refused to leave me behind while he chased his own pleasure. It didn’t take much to send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion. 

As always, Helmut followed me down. 

His thrusts quickened, then stilled as he came to rest upon me, panting and heaving and begging for breath. I didn’t care much. He smelled of cologne and sweat as I buried my face in his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel him soften inside of me but I was far too spent to urge him to move.

We only shifted apart when he slipped free of me.

Helmut quickly kissed my forehead and gathered himself up, shuffling to the trash can to discard the used condom and grab a tissue to wipe himself up. I didn’t let myself move an inch. If I moved, would the bliss run away? Would I realize what I’d done? I let myself lay instead, eyes closed, panting in the autumn chill as my lover approached and wiped up our beautiful mess as gently as he could manage. With one last kiss to my thigh, he discarded the rag, opened the window, and crawled back into bed with me. 

The process was indelicate, a lot of awkward shuffling of sticky limbs, but we were settled beneath the blankets soon enough. Helmut stroked his fingers down my arm languidly while kissing the back of my neck. 

I broke the peace between us. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what this means for us,” 

He sighed gently. His breath was soothing and familiar against my shoulder. “That’s not something we have to decide at this very moment,” 

“But I just don’t want you to think this means something… or at least something more than it does? If that makes sense? I don’t know,”

“Schatz, please,” 

“I want to keep my own place, at least for now. I don’t know what that means for when I’ll see you or if we’ll keep doing this,” I gestured vaguely to my nude body beneath the sheets, “or if we’re even a thing anymore, bu-“ 

Helmut reached his arm around us, placing a quieting finger over my lips and another soft kiss against my shoulder. 

“I swear, your mind sounds even louder than mine,” 

“Sorry,” 

“No reason to be,” His hand left my lips, running down to my stomach and pulling me back towards the softness of his chest. “As for your questions, I shall respect your wishes about distance and housing and labels, whatever they may be. That being said, as long as you’re still up for… this, as you put it, I will never deny you, no matter the distance. I would cross oceans for you,” 

A cum-drunk, half-asleep giggle escaped me as he nuzzled in, kissing my ear. 

“Thank you,” 

“No, thank you,” he matched my laughter with his own, “I believe this is what James would call post nut clarity,” 

“Now you ruined it!” I huffed. The faux anger only lasted a moment, though, before I was rolling to face him, cheek pressed to the soft, downy hair of his chest. “I love you, Helmut.” 

“I love you too, sweet girl. Now sleep. I’ll get up and deal with the dog once you’re resting,” 

For the first time in two years, I breathed in the scent of Helmut’s cologne before lapsing into a peaceful sleep.

---------

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my first foray into smut in literal years, and it was literally all written within a 12 hour period, so I hope any mistakes weren't enough to take away from your enjoyment. Comments are always appreciated, but never expected. See you on the next authors note!

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Look At Me — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: 40s!bucky x nurse!reader

Word count: 11,951

Summary: She never expected to fall so deeply for Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes, what with his skirt-chasing tendencies and cocky personality. Except how was she to know war would change everything she thought she wanted? Suddenly, she wanted him.

Warnings: angst, violence, WW2, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, death, torture, whump, HYDRA, post-serum Steve Rodgers, kissing, angst with happy ending. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Note: I got a little carried away... oops. Anyway, happy reading!

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Enjoy!

"We'll set up camp here. The sun's getting low, and it's not safe to travel at night. We'll freeze to death if we try." James "Bucky" Barnes flung his pack to the ground and stretched his aching limbs over his head, sore from walking all day.

The infantry had left camp early that morning, just before dawn. They were to travel across the Eastern Italian border and meet the British battalion just south of Azzano. General McGinnis planned to march with a regiment of his own a week after news of the 107th's safe arrival reached camp.

"Should I start a fire, Sergeant?" Private Andrew Eaton asked, rubbing his hands together. The sun was setting, spreading a soft glow over the snow-ridden forest. "Warm us up?" His eyes flicked toward the girl, and she stiffened under his gaze.

She was a nurse, travelling with the soldiers because of her immaculate record. She had never lost a man before; one could be on the brink of death and would survive if she got her hands on them. Her expertise was unmatched and desperately needed on the Eastern Front, where the allies were losing men at an alarming rate.

Bucky shook his head. "We're too close to enemy lines. The smoke will draw attention, and we can't risk that."

Multiple eyes drifted to the nurse's shivering form, some filled with pity, others with concern. She had not once complained about the walk nor the temperature, but she was no soldier. Everyone knew her body was at risk of collapse; unaccustomed to the harsh terrain of the Dolomite Mountains, her back hunched with the weight of her pack, her eyes drooped with fatigue, cheeks crimson with cold and body trembling.

Mimicking Bucky, she, too, flung her bag on the frozen soil and dropped unceremoniously on it, finally giving in to her exhaustion.

"You sure about that, Sergeant Barnes?" Eaton questioned. The girl widened her eyes in alarm. It was one thing to hold the soldiers back with her slow pace and decreased stamina, another to put them all in danger. "Maybe we should risk it."

Typically, questioning a superior officer was inappropriate and inexcusable, but not one person reacted negatively to the Private's question. Murmurs of approval spread through the men.

Bucky turned toward the nurse, taking in her form. Like the rest of his soldiers, he also worried for the girl—more than he should have. She did not have any endurance training. She had not even left the relative safety of the camp until now, and it took everything in Bucky to stop himself from carrying her back to base camp, where she would be safe from the threat of gunfire and death.

He opened his mouth—to either agree with Eaton or disagree with him—no one could know. The girl chose that moment to let go of her hesitations. "I once spent an entire night out in the streets of France with just a pair of gloves and a tattered jacket," she rushed out. At the confused looks, she clarified, "in the middle of December." More looks. "In negative twenty-five-degree weather..." her voice was slowly tapering into shyness. "I am alive, am I not?"

"How much is that in Fahrenheit, Miss?" And the conversation moved forward.

The soldiers insisted on lighting at least a small fire for the girl's sake, igniting one under the cover of the dense coniferous trees. While the men began to set up camp for the night, Bucky stood there with a puckered brow and a frown marring his features, before shaking his head and helping them.

The nurse decided she would not be the one to risk them all. After another twenty minutes or so of bickering, she finally lost her temper. "You might as well know by now; I'm inherently stubborn, and nothing any of you say or do will change my mind."

After that, a perimeter was established, lookouts were posted, and tents were begrudgingly set up. Some soldiers retired to rest while others passed down alcohol, huddled against each other to conserve heat.

"It'll warm you up." Bucky sat down next to the shivering girl on a collapsed, decaying tree. He thrust a flask toward her mouth, urging her to drink from it. He took a sip when she made no move, clearing his throat and asking her again. "Will you drink some?"

His voice was sweet and kind, and she despised it. She pursed her lips in response and leaned away. "No, thank you," she replied while her teeth chattered.

Bucky frowned in annoyance. Her stubbornness, which he usually found amusing, was turning out to be somewhat of a hindrance.

"Sorry, doll, but it wasn't a question." He thrust the flask toward her once more, belligerent in his attempt.

She leaned farther away, and Bucky followed her, trapping her against the tree. "No, thank you. You know I don't drink alcohol—."

"Yes!" he suddenly grew frustrated and ran a trembling hand through his brown locks. Somehow the girl always managed to get on his nerve. "I know you don't drink, alright? And I know you hate cursing, that you're stubborn as hell, and that you talk funny because 'proper use of language is important.' I also know that you'll die of hypothermia if you don't warm yourself up, and I rather not have to explain to Colonel Phillips that we lost our only good nurse to stubbornness."

The girl inhaled sharply, her emotions in overdrive. She didn't realize how much he noticed her little quirks.

"I'd rather not have to explain to Colonel Phillips that we lost our only good nurse to stubbornness."

"Now, your whining might've worked in Brooklyn," Bucky continued. "Especially with Steve backing you up; but it won't work here. If you haven't noticed, we're not in New York anymore."

"I have eyes," the girl snapped, convinced she was nothing but a burden to him and the soldiers. She wondered again why Colonel Philips sent her, of all people, with the 107th. She didn't think she was that good. "You won't have to explain a thing. Don't worry. I won't die so easily."

Her words were laced with contempt and a hint of something else. Remorse, Bucky realized with a start, though before he could ponder on it any longer, she began to rise, seemingly done with their conversation.

"Damn it, woman!" Bucky's loud voice caught the entire camp's attention. He grabbed her forearm and yanked her back down. She winced when her bottom landed on the trunk a bit too hard. "I'll force this down your throat if I have to."

The girl blanched, shocked by Bucky's authoritative tone. "N-no, you will not!" She made an effort to appear commanding, but her stutter betrayed her. She was scared he would make good on his promise.

"You do not want to test me," he seethed. There was a look in Bucky's eyes she had not seen before. A crazed, almost feral glint in his pupils.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her insides warmed. She chalked it up to adrenaline. "I'm not that cold anymore."

Bucky said nothing, just continued to stare at her with the feral look still in his eyes.

Seconds passed—seconds that felt like minutes—before he spoke. "We're sleeping in one tent tonight." She didn't know why he was telling her that. "Together. To preserve body heat." She was still confused. "You either drink this, girl," he thrust the flask toward her lips once more. "or I'll make you sleep between my men. God knows they haven't touched a woman in months. So they won't have any complaints."

She argued with him, calling him petty names, and stuttering through excuses. "Y-you—you're."

"What?" he taunted. "Say it. Am I an asshole? A fucking idiot? Go on, don't be shy."

"You're an incompetent Sergeant. The most incompetent I've ever met!"

"I'm the only Sergeant you've ever met," Bucky deadpanned. "Seriously? That the best you can do?"

It was. "You're not that cruel! You're bluffing, like you bluffed about throwing me in the East River last year when I went out with that doctor."

"That doctor was a fucking creep with a criminal record," Bucky seethed. The girl's refusal went unheard. "And I wasn't bluffing. If Steve didn't stop me, you would have been swimming with the fish."

She muttered her annoyance under her breath, but Bucky caught it.

"God as my witness, I'll take you over my shoulder and lie on top of you if I have to!" One look into his eyes, and she could tell he was not lying.

When again he thrust the flask toward her mouth, she begrudgingly took it from him, bringing the cool metal to her lips. When the alcohol's bitter smell reached her, she almost gagged at the potent stench.

"I can't!" the girl choked on a sob, shoving the flask back into Bucky's hands.

A smirk adorned his pink lips, so unlike the anger she had been expecting. "Don't say I didn't warn ya." And before she could react, her world had been turned upside down.

Her legs went up, and her head went down. For a few moments, she froze, unable to understand what had happened. When a hand landed on her bottom, she gasped, realizing that Bucky had indeed made good on his promise—taken her over his shoulder.

When she screamed out of frustration, he shushed her. "Don't make me gag you."

The girl felt red, hot embarrassment at being treated like a child in front of all the soldiers. She scratched fruitlessly at Bucky's back, only to end up clutching his fatigues with numb fingers as he carried her across the clearing. At least the men had half a mind to keep their gaze averted when she was thrown unceremoniously inside one of the tents.

"You act like a caveman," she hissed, looking up at his scrunched brow.

Bucky's eyes softened, and all previous frustration and anger left him. Her insult amused him, and he plopped down next to her with a silent huff. "And you act like a brat."

The girl's answering words died on her tongue at Andrew Eaton's voice. "Lose the frown, Miss. There's not a single man here who wouldn't take a bullet for you, Barnes included."

A couple more soldiers entered the small tent, taking up the rest of the space. The girl ignored them, inhaling deeply. "I was perfectly fine outside, Andrew. Not cold at all."

A quick laugh from Bucky. "Is that why your lips are blue, and you're shaking like a leaf? 'Cause, you're not cold at all?"

"—He's just tryna keep you alive," Andrew interrupted before another argument could ensue.

A laugh bubbled up in the girl's throat before she could stop it. For some reason, the suggestion that Bucky Barnes was keeping her alive made her hysterical. Bucky Barnes, the man who couldn't keep a plant alive. She laughed until her stomach hurt, then she took a deep breath, clutched her middle while she fell backwards, and continued laughing.

"Fucking hell? She's crazy," the girl heard Bucky curse under his breath, but she was so far gone in delirium she could not be bothered to scold him for it.

"At least she's not frownin' anymore," Andrew offered.

The girl laughed harder, curling in on herself. Bucky stared at her with confused amusement, barely concealed, and chuckled softly. She was the most bizarre person he had ever met. So odd. Lately, he caught himself smiling more in her presence than ever before, finding it harder to resist her contagious delights. She was a constant amusement for the rest of the soldiers as well. Entertaining, though stressful.

She was still very clumsy, tripping on rocks and slipping down declines. A soldier needed to be watching her all the time, and that soldier, unbeknownst to her, was generally Bucky. He had grown eyes in the back of his head, trying to ensure she did not hurt herself. The girl had touched the hearts of all the men, his most of all, though he tried to conceal the fact by being curt and severe with her. Despite that, he did find pleasure in being able to tame her.

Ludovic Fournier, the Frenchman, muttered a phrase in his native tongue, and Andrew translated for him. "Women go a bit crazy before starting their courses. It's best to indulge them and not question it."

The entire tent went crazy, laughing and hollering almost as hard as the girl had been. Though she was not laughing anymore, and she was not amused. Her laughter died as quickly as it started—jarringly abrupt.

"I'm right here, you know!" She turned to the Frenchman. "Dis-moi, monsieur," the girl turned to him with a sarcastic and slightly intimidating curl of her lips. "Comment avez-vous appris tant de choses sur les femmes?"

The Frenchman swallowed thickly, and from behind him, Andrew translated his words to the small group. "She's asking how he got so damn smart."

"Ma femme."

"Ah! Idiote moi. Mais bien sûr. Ta femme doit être folle si elle tá épousé. Rien à voir avec se scours. Accune femme saine désprit ne portrait passer plus d'une journee avec toi sans avoir besoin d'être admis dans en établissement mental par la suite."

"She says, don't blame that time of the month, or your poor wife, when it's you're the reason she's like that." He guffawed out loud, drawing the girl's attention, before continuing. "Anyone would go crazy after spending more than a minute with you. Jesus Christ! Man, oh, man!"

The girl went warm all over. That was precisely why she tended to keep quiet. Her temper would rise if she did not keep her emotions in check. She had only ever lost it with Bucky before, never in front of a crowd. "Excuse me, gentlemen," she mustered what remaining dignity she had left, "but it's time for me to rest. I will see you all in the morning, bright and early. Good night."

Amidst all the hysterical laughing and the rampant rambling, the girl had forgotten Bucky's promise. He yanked her down before she could leave. He had indulged her long enough.

"I'm not letting you kill yourself—don't," he started, when he noticed her lips curl, "start laughing again. It was traumatizing enough the first time."

What he meant: "Please don't laugh again, because if you do, I wouldn't want you to stop. Ever." Except he did not know he felt such a thing. So, he annoyed her instead, undermining his affection for her.

The girl huffed loudly, voicing her frustration. The rest of the men settled inside the tent, pressed against each other for heat, hoping for at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. "I'm not cold anymore. I told you before."

"You're the worst liar I have ever met. Seriously! Worse than Steve." That was true. Steve was a horrible liar. "I can see you shivering. Hell! I can hear you!"

Bucky decided to give her a choice. A poor one, yes, but a choice, nonetheless. "Where do you wanna sleep? In between Fournier and Ward or next to Eaton?" He leaned in close, putting a hand next to his mouth as if indulging her with a secret. "I gotta warn you, though. He snores like a pig."

The girl simmered. She did not want to spend the night in the middle of men, and Bucky knew that. He was intimately aware of her reservation toward the opposite sex."Over here is fine." She was referring to the front of the tent where she was already seated.

"Perfect! This way, I'll be able to keep an eye on you."

"Excuse me?"

"You did choose the coldest spot, but I won't complain. Promise." He shrugged out of his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"—as long as you wear this."

By now, it was a sort of ritual for Bucky to demand something of the girl and for her to deny him. No matter how helpful or minuscule the command, she could hardly help it anymore, even though it always ended with her compliance—sometimes forced.

"No, thank you." She was nothing if not stubborn.

Bucky scoffed. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her down until she was in his lap. The girl stifled her scream and gasped instead.

The rest of the men were almost all asleep, exhausted from the long day. So was the girl, though she would not admit it. She was tired and cold—more than usual—and scared; of what was to come and of what was currently taking place. Her ancient promise of staying away from James Buchanan Barnes was becoming harder to uphold.

Bucky knew this—not of her promise, of course, but of her crumbling resolve—So he pushed. He flustered and confused her. "Only because it's amusing," he told himself—her reaction to his teasing. "Only because it's amusing,"

"You should stick with red. Purple is not a good colour on you, and that's what you'll become if you don't listen to me." He placed his jacket over her shoulders, and she was instantly warmed.

"What about you?" Her voice was meek and hesitant, words honeyed in their delivery. "Will you not get cold?" But he only smirked and raised his brows in answer. "Oh. Right." She had forgotten his natural affinity for all things warm, so unlike her own, for all things cold.

"I've got both you and Eaton keeping me warm. I wouldn't worry about it." Bucky smirked when the girl said nothing and only blinked in surprise.

She lowered herself, letting her head touch the soft ground. Tarps had been placed neatly all over, offering protection from the snow surrounding them. She turned away from Bucky, putting a foot of space between him and herself, holding her breath when she felt him lie next to her. However, the second she relaxed, his arm wrapped around her midsection and pulled her flush against his front, not an inch separating them.

"Bucky!" she warned in a hushed whisper, struggling against his hold. "This is inappropriate!"

"No!" he huffed in her ear, hot breath warming her neck. "This is survival!" She continued her futile attempts, trying harder to elude his grasp. "Besides, I gave you my only jacket, and I need to—Damn it, woman! Stop moving," he groaned in her ear.

"Why?" she asked, squirming harder.

"Because—Damn it!" he groaned again. "Just stop, will ya?" A deep breath. "Please."

The girl went still. Bucky Barnes never said please, never begged. She had not thought it possible. So, to hear him beg her... she decided she could never let Bucky Barnes use that word ever again. It was dangerous when uttered by his lips. An irresistible, compelling word that she could never deny, gladly giving in to any request.

"Please."

"Sorry," she muttered quietly, quickly settling down, unsure if he was listening. He was. "I'm sorry."

The girl let the tiredness of the day wash over her. She let Bucky's arms hold her, keep her safe and warm, and protect her. Her eyes closed, and she entered the state before sleep where the body was still aware and preparing for rest.

"You drive me crazy," Bucky's whispered in her ear, so quiet she convinced herself she imagined it.

"You drive me crazy too," was her last thought before she let deep slumber overtake her. Except the girl knew Bucky did not mean it with the same intention as hers. "So crazy."

At a steep decline, her foot swept away from under her on an icy patch of grass. From behind her, Bucky dropped his copy of "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," extending his arm to grab her. He was not fast enough, and she fell on her back, sliding down until she hit a mountain of fresh snow.

"Jesus Christ, Darling!" Bucky reached under her arms to haul her up as if she weighed nothing. "You gotta watch where you're stepping."

"It's too dark," she sputtered, wiping snow off her face. "I couldn't see anything." From the east, the full moon was their only source of light, doing a poor job of illuminating the path through the dense forest around them.

"Fucking hell," Bucky swore, appraising the girl from head to toe. "You're soaked."

"I'm fine," she rasped, already beginning to shiver as the cold permeated her layers to settle in her skin. "I can keep going."

"Like hell you can," Bucky muttered, looking ahead to see everyone else's progress.

"There's no need to swear," the girl grumbled, pulling her hat farther down.

Bucky raised a brow at that. "At least the cold didn't get to your head."

She rolled her eyes, turning to leave, but Bucky grabbed her before she could take a single step, hauling her up in his arms. She shrieked, wrapping her hands around his neck for stability. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to trip again," he said by way of explanation. "It's just a little bit further. Then we'll set up camp."

Bucky ignored the girl's protests, quickly catching up with the rest of the battalion. They walked another mile in about half an hour, and Bucky ignored all of the girl's grumbling, only acknowledging her once they reached a small clearing and began setting up camp.

"Shut up," he grumbled, to which he received a smack on the back of his head.

"You shut up."

He lowered the girl next to the small smokeless fire Simon Ward lit, draping his jacket over her, "Dry up as much as you can. I'll be back."

Scooting closer to the small blaze, the girl pulled Bucky's jacket tighter around her shoulders, studying the flame with intensity as she recalled waking up the past few days.

The girl had gone to sleep slightly rigid and stiff, unused to resting next to another body, but she woke up in a tangle of limbs. Bucky's hands in her hair, her face tucked in the crook of his neck. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had turned over and gravitated closer to the heat his body was radiating. It was the best sleep either of them had ever had. Neither was willing to acknowledge it.

The night after was a repeat of the night before. Bucky threatened alcohol down the girl's throat, and she responded with a litany of insults which he laughed away. They wrestled while everyone watched—Bucky won, and the girl awoke the next day surrounded by a familiar warmth and a musky scent one could only describe as Bucky Barnes.

A week later, the moon was low in the sky, marking the beginning of winter. Neither the girl nor Bucky brought up their temporary sleeping arrangements, choosing to ignore the feelings festering inside them. The girl felt her resolve slowly crumbling. What was that promise she made to herself regarding Bucky Barnes? She couldn't quite recall.

The girl busied herself with unpleasant memories of his. She remembered when she first moved into the apartment across from Bucky. She was carrying a box full of books up the fifth floor of a six-story building. She had to take a break every few minutes to rest her arms, or they would've fallen off. Just outside her door, she collided with a brick wall. Her books went flying—so did she—and Bucky Barnes ran past her without so much as an "excuse me," muttering profanity under his breath. From then on, she started hating him.

That's how she met Steve. The slender young man popped a blonde head out of his friend's door and asked if he could help. She said, "no thanks," but he didn't listen, insisting on bringing the rest of her things up. That night, over a cup of hot tea, she learned about James Buchanan Barnes and his skirt-chasing tendencies. She began to hate him a bit more.

She recalled all his jabs of how she dressed, the way she looked, mocking her insecurities by sarcastically complimenting her. The ruined date with that doctor—never mind the potential criminal record. His threat to drown her.

He broke her friend's heart, told her he would call the next day and didn't. She was married now with a baby on the way, but it was the principle of the thing that irked her.

One by one, all of Bucky's wrongdoings came to the forefront of the girl's mind. When he argued with her, undermined her, and treated her like porcelain. When he called her "doll," "darling," and "sweetheart."

She hated that most of all.

Still, she could not ignore the tiny flutter in her heart whenever she thought of the blue-eyed sergeant. Despite all the bad, she now only remembered his warm smile and comforting embrace.

The girl brought her hand dangerously close to the fire, letting the flame irritate her skin before pulling away. She still felt cold.

Bucky returned a few moments later, rubbing his bare hands together in front of his face. "You tired?"

The girl ignored his question, asking one of her own. "Where are your gloves?"

Bucky's frosty breath momentarily covered his face. "Bradshaw lost his."

"Jeremy?"

Bucky nodded with a smile, unsurprised the girl knew most of the soldiers' names. "Wait, what are you doing?"

She fished her gloves from her coat, thrusting them toward him. "They're dry now. Here, take them."

"Don't be stupid," Bucky scoffed, "you'll get cold." Still, she persevered, leaving her hand dangling. "I'm not taking your gloves," Bucky said with finality.

"Alright," she nodded, dropping her hand and taking off his jacket instead.

Bucky seized her by the shoulders, stopping her and giving her a little shake. "What the fucking hell, woman! Keep your jacket on. It's freezing."

"Don't swear. It's yours, not mine. Take it." She tried prying his fingers off, but he wouldn't budge. "The gloves or the jacket, Bucky. Your choice."

"So goddamn stubborn. Every day you find something new to argue with me about, don't you?"

"Pick one," she warned, "or I'm giving both to Jeremy."

With a mumbled curse, Bucky snatched the gloves from her lap, putting them on like a petulant child.

"And say thank you," she snapped, slightly perturbed he hadn't taken back his jacket.

Bucky squinted his eyes, dropping down next to her. "You're acting like a real brat today."

"You're acting like a caveman! Now leave me alone so I can sleep in peace." She had turned away from Bucky, but when he offered no reply, she swallowed uneasily and looked back. His eyes glinted with mischief, hinting at his next step. "Bucky, no!"

She tried to stop him but was no match for his strength. Her world spun, and she found herself on his shoulder once again. Thankfully she stayed quiet this time, not bringing any extra attention toward them.

"I'll show you caveman." Bucky plopped her down in one of the smaller tents with space just enough for two, closing the flap behind him.

She steamed in forced fury, trying to take comfort in the fact that, pretty soon, she wouldn't have to put up with the infuriating soldier at all. She failed.

After a moment, when Bucky still hadn't moved from his hunched-over position at the front of the tent, the girl snapped at him. "What are you waiting for, Bucky? Come to bed!"

They both paused, processing the girl's words. "Come to bed." It was the first time she willingly called for him. She looked down, embarrassment creeping up her neck, unable to see the smile on Bucky's face.

Carefully, Bucky settled in behind her, embracing her with both arms, fitting her against him. When she began to squirm, he only had to issue a single warning before she relaxed. He sighed gratefully, not wanting a repeat of the past week where she slept oblivious while he tried to tamp down his arousal.

"This is nice," Bucky thought the girl muttered, though he couldn't be sure because she was already asleep.

"Yeah, this is really nice," Bucky whispered against her temple as blissful sleep overtook him.

From a distance, the Italian alps were quite breathtaking. She imagined a cabin in the forest, high on the Dolomite mountains; this would be her view. Maybe she would move here one day—once the war was over—and ask Steve to join her. Steve didn't have anyone stopping him from leaving other than Bucky. Maybe Bucky could join too? She shook that thought away.

The Dolomites were far behind them now, and as they passed town after town, destroyed and abandoned, an unsettling feeling grew vigorous in her gut. They were close to the Austrian border, hugging the small villages and settlements as they got closer to their destination: Azzano.

They made camp as the sun set, supplying the perfect backdrop to a most tiresome journey. The girl slung her pack to the ground and stretched her muscles while waiting for Bucky to finish ordering the men around.

He offered her water when he finished, which she took gratefully. "Lieutenant General Allan Montgomery should be here within the week. We'll travel the rest of the way to Azzano together." Then Bucky's eyes downturned. "We're only a few miles away from the front line. Do you remember your training?" he asked, looking for hesitation.

Of course, by training, he was referring to the hour-long lesson she was given on battlefield defence, not that any of it stuck. She tried schooling her features, failing miserably. "Yes, I do." Her voice was strong and confident, though she felt anything but. "If we spot the enemy, I'm supposed to set up a station at a safe spot and wait for the injured there. They will be sent back if they are fit to fight. If not..." she trailed off, unable to stomach the fact. "But I won't let that happen," she promised.

Bucky looked at her pityingly, as if he knew something she did not. "Let's hope so. The rest of the 107th should be here in a couple of days with General McGinnis. They were right behind us, so—"

Bucky paused, looking behind the girl at the soldiers setting up camp, before shaking his head and continuing. "Are you tired? The sun's beginning to set."

The girl wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shook her head.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, immediately picking up on the girl's discomfort.

"Bucky..." she began hesitantly. "How long will you make me sleep with you?"

Bucky frowned. "Do you feel uncomfortable? I know I came across as an asshole, but I didn't want you to freeze to death. Sorry, we can stop."

Unable to respond immediately, the girl looked at him with barely concealed bewilderment. Apologizing; is another thing Bucky Barnes did not do. "No, I don't want to stop. It's just..." she trailed off, looking for the right word. "inappropriate, especially with the General joining us soon."

"No, it's not," he said matter of factly. "We're friends."

"Friends don't sleep together," the girl responded, unsure of what she wanted to hear him say.

Bucky waited until she looked him in the eyes. "We're the exception. Hey, they've got bigger matters to worry about than us sharing body heat. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Well, good."

An awkward silence fell between the pair, and the girl cleared her throat before the feeling could consume her. "The men look ready to fight," she observed, watching her surroundings.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, uh... I mentioned we're near the front lines, right? So we need to set up a perimeter and plan the best line of attack. Make sure we have a solid line of defence in case something happens. Hey, don't worry. We've got this." Bucky gave her shoulder a tiny shove.

"Oh," she huffed, "I am not worried."

"Yeah?" a smile lit his eyes. "Your face is telling me a different story."

She pursed her lips in frustration. "I'm not worried about you, Bucky," she snapped, "I'm worried about Steve. He needs his friend to come back home—in one piece—and now, I know you normally have no regard for your safety, but you have to be careful if you don't want to leave our friend alone in Brooklyn."

Bucky saw red. He pulled at his hair in frustration. It was unbelievable how quickly she was able to rile him up. "Are you kidding me? I'm the one with no regard for safety? In the time I've known you, you've almost died over five times. You can't even cross the street without putting yourself in danger! Hell! I'm still confused about how they let you in this damn war in the first place." He rushed his words, voicing his anger and annoyance. He only registered the last part of the girl's sentence when he took a deep breath.

"Why would Steve be all alone in Brooklyn?" he asked in a more even tone. "You're going to be there, and a few months later, I'll join... he won't be alone. Why would you say that?"

He froze at the look on her face. Guilt—In her eyes, in the way she held herself, oozing from her pores. Bucky could smell it. Bucky could even taste it. "What did you do?"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you both sooner, but I only just decided and—"

"What. Did. You. Do?" Bucky grit out.

The girl took a deep breath. "I'm leaving. Moving to Canada. I already asked for a transfer—"

"Canada? Fucking Canada?"

"—Don't swear, please," she pleaded.

"This is some sick joke, right? Tell me you're joking." Bucky grabbed her forearms, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bucky, but I already applied for the transfer. I'm supposed to be moved to a different regiment when we get back to base."

There were many things the girl expected Bucky to say. She expected him to be happy that he was finally rid of her. Relieved she would be gone. She did not expect him to be hurt.

"Were you ever gonna say goodbye?"

"Bucky, I—"

"To Steve, to me. Were you ever going to tell me if I hadn't asked?"

No, she would not have. "Please, Bucky," she pleaded. "I don't want to leave you angry. For the sake of our past, let it go. We won't see each other again for a long time. Not until the war is over."

Bucky scoffed. "Phillips would never let that happen; he wouldn't let you leave. You're his favourite nurse."

She furrowed her brows in response. "I'm not Colonel Phillips' favourite nurse. He has no favourites."

"You're everyone's favourite nurse," he replied as if stating a fact.

"Liar!" she wanted to scream at him. She knew she was not his favourite.

"Not yours," she whispered, staring at him for a moment. "Lila Bellamy told me about the date you took her on. She said you turned a war zone into the most romantic place she'd ever seen. You brought her flowers, danced with her, and kissed her on the cheek once the night was over." She felt wetness gathering in her eyes. "You were the perfect gentleman."

When the first tear dropped, she didn't bother wiping it away. "When you return to base camp, please give Lila my regard. She was quite worried for me. Will you let her know I'm safe? She would be glad to hear from you, and I won't get to talk to her before I leave."

Bucky's grip on her shoulder tightened almost painfully, making her flinch. Through the hurt coursing in her body, she managed a feeble smile. "Try not to break her heart? You two look good together."

"No!" Bucky had had enough; he could hold his words in no longer. "There's nothing between Lila and me."

The girl shook her head. "You don't have to lie."

"Stop it!" Bucky exploded, shaking her. "Stop pushing me away. I don't want Lila; I never wanted her. I've only ever wanted you!"

"Bucky," the girl gasped.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave me, doll," he started, and there was that word she hated. "I'll take you over my shoulder if I have to, but you're not going to fucking Canada; because I love—"

Bucky never got to finish his sentence, never got to tell the girl how he felt because one of his worst nightmares was suddenly realized.

A bullet whizzed past them both—so close that the girl could smell the gunpowder in the wind, could feel its displacement through air against her cheek before it found a home in the soldier behind her. She screamed as she fell, Bucky's heavy weight shielding her body, keeping her down. Her world turned upside down, and she found herself on the cold ground with Bucky's grip on her arms tightened painfully.

To her right, the unfortunate soldier lay dead, with an 8-millimeter-sized hole in his head oozing a steady stream of thick blood. A wound meant for her.

The girl touched a hand to her cheek, which had suddenly warmed. It came back painted as red as the poppy fields back in Provence, France.

She began to tremble as shock overtook her.

Bucky swore under his breath, eyes wide as he took in their surroundings. Beneath him, the girl's eyes darkened in fear. She smeared the splatter of blood on her cheeks and stared at her fingers in horror.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." She kept muttering under her breath, eyes wide and lips quivering. "N-No. No. No. No."

All around Bucky, the soldiers ran, grabbing artillery and readying defences. "What the hell happened!?" he screamed. "We had a perimeter set up!" Underneath him, she shivered—out of shock or fear, he determined, rather than the cold.

"Those Nazi bastards were waiting to ambush us!" a voice shouted from amidst the chaos. "They knew we were coming!"

Another bullet whizzed past Bucky's head, embedding itself in the ground next to the girl's head. He jerked her away and swore. "Fuck!" She still trembled under him, muttering nonsense. He took her face in his hands, urging her to look at him. " Hey, darlin'? Doll, look at me."

Her eyes were glued to her shaky hands. "Oh God, no. No, I can't. I can't. I can't."

For a few seconds, Bucky froze above her—a few seconds too many—before his training kicked in. He needed to get her out of there. Bucky yanked her hands to the side and held her face in a bruising grip, forcing her to look at him.

"We're in a war zone right now." He said her name with fierce assurance. "The enemy isn't going to stop until we're all dead. I need you to remember the promise you made me this morning. You promised you wouldn't let anyone die—Hey!"

The girl tried peeking at the dead soldier beside her, but Bucky blocked her view.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me," he said. The girl whimpered, her eyes misting. "Look at me. That's not your fault."

She shook her head.

"—Hey! It's not. Those German bastards killed him, not you."

"That bullet was meant for me," she sobbed between breaths, "it should have hit me." The desperation in her voice cut him like a knife. He felt her fear as if it were his own.

"Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!" Under normal circumstances, Bucky would be concerned at the girl's lack of reaction to his cursing, but he had already spent too much time coddling her, and the men needed him. "I'm gonna go and avenge that soldier's death, darlin'," Buck shouted over the sound of battle. "I'm going to burn those Germans to the ground. I'm going to do my job, and you have to do yours."

She looked at him then, and Bucky exhaled gratefully at the clarity he saw in her eyes, hidden behind adrenaline and fear. She gave him a little nod and stifled her sobs. "I feel a little sick."

"Me too," said Bucky, hauling them both to their feet.

The second they were upright, Bucky yanked her behind a tree for cover against the onslaught of bullets raining down on them. "You have to run." He grabbed his rifle from behind his back and checked the ammunition.

"Bucky—"

"When I tell you to, I want you to run toward those trees over there," he pointed to a slight decline, where the trees were thicker and provided more cover, "and I want you to keep on running."

"Wait! No!"

"No matter what happens!" He would not look her in the eyes—Could not look her in the eyes. "You run until you reach the last marker—" Bucky took off his helmet and placed it on the girl's head, fastening it over her hat. "—about a mile and a half out—"

"Bucky, listen to me!"

But he would not listen to her. The girl kept calling him, but he ignored her. He knew his eyes would betray his fear if he did. And he knew that the terrified look that had most likely taken up residence on her face, would force him to lose the last of his sanity and carry her back to base. This war zone was the last place he wanted her.

"You stay there until someone comes for you, and you don't—"

"James!"

And there it was, that damned name. So absolutely dangerous when uttered by her lips. Time slowed for both of them as if the war had pressed pause. Sound faded, colours brightened, and for a few minuscule seconds Bucky and her existed in their own little world, where the blood on her hands was paint, and the look in his eyes was love and not fear.

Bucky looked down, expecting to see the girl hysterical and weeping. Instead, he saw something completely different. Her eyes were clear, the most they had been in weeks, terribly similar to the look she would get in camp when the life of a soldier was in her hands.

And when she spoke, there was determination in her voice. A promise. "You better come back in one piece for Steve." And he knew she meant, "be careful."

He blinked at her, once, then twice, ensuring there were no other hidden messages behind her words. "You better run fast." And she knew he meant, "I will."

The world around them came back into focus, and with a final tightening of her helmet, Bucky pushed her away, sending her running toward safety.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

How much time had passed? She couldn't be sure. Her boot-clad feet were numb from being buried in the snow, and her back was sore from chafing against the rough bark of a pine tree.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

How much time had passed? The sun had long since disappeared under the horizon. In its stead was the moon, still as big and beautiful as the night before. Was it privy to all the horrors the girl wasn't? Did it frown over the violence and brutality it witnessed, or did the inhumanity of the act make it shine brighter?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

How much time had passed? Above her, a bird chirped loudly, disturbed by the gunfire that seemed to grow closer as the moon rose higher in the sky. An hour? Two? It certainly felt like more.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The girl placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, patting her chest as a means to settle it. "It's okay," she whispered, afraid to voice her thoughts any louder. "It's okay."

She twisted her body around the thick trunk, peeking at the darkness beyond her hiding spot. Another jarring explosion, fake sounding and unreal, before the world quieted. Eerily so.

The bird above her stopped its music. The leaves stopped their little dance. The girl twisted fully, staring intently at the spot she had come running from before finding a temporary home against her tree. All felt normal—well, as normal as could be.

What was it that prompted her forward and on her feet? Bucky's instructions rang clear in her head. "You stay there until someone comes for you." No one was there for her, yet her feet began to move of their own volition. Perhaps at the persuasion of a greater force. Fear; she could taste it on her tongue.

Fear that made her keep going despite the ache in her limbs. Fear that numbed her skin against the sharp tendrils of wind cutting her face. Fear of the quiet. Of being alone. Of being without him.

"Bucky," her whisper echoed against the draught. "James," her heart bled through the frozen ground.

The stench hit her first. Her nose picked up on what her eyes could not. Rotting flesh, putrid and burnt. Sweat and vomit mixed in with the minerally dirt. Her tongue flared up next as copper permeated the rest of her senses, overwhelmingly strong. And the fear; she caught herself against a tree as it engulfed her, making her lose the contents of her stomach.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The girl was at the edge of the clearing, with the gruesome scene of battle right in front of her. Her eyes moved fleetingly across everything, afraid of what she might find. What was once the site of a lively campsite was now demolished in a mess of guts and spoils.

The earth had turned over to create trenches and hiding spots. Dead bodies and dismembered limbs were scattered across the ground, decorating it with a gruesome excuse for peace.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The calm before the storm.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She spotted movement from the corner of her eye, followed by a low groan of pain.

James. Her heart lurched.

A head of blonde curls bobbed from behind a mountain of dirt. The girl reached behind her for her pack, realizing it lay abandoned on the battlefield. She spotted it twenty-something meters away to her right.

Her eyes squeezed shut. The girl wasn't sure if it was safe to venture out, but it was so quiet, and still, she reasoned the worst of it had passed. She made up her mind; first, the pack, then the wounded soldier.

With her arms pumping rhythmically, she ran. Five, ten, fifteen meters out. The girl skid to a stop, bending to grab the pack. Instead, cold metal kissed her temple, and she stopped breathing.

Her terror-stricken eyes met dilated blue ones. Her pack perched on the edge of what resembled a small trench, hidden from the rest of the clearing. Several soldiers sat hunched over, brandishing various weapons. Bucky Barnes lowered his rifle as gut-wrenching fear overtook his face. He shook his head vigorously, reaching up to grab her, but she stumbled back on her arms, clutching the pack to her chest.

The girl swallowed the sob threatening to spill over. Bucky was alive and safe, though a bit roughed up. She looked to her left at the blonde soldier immobilized by his injury, and Bucky followed her gaze. She noticed the moment it clicked for him, and she made her decision on the spot. She only hoped her eyes accurately portrayed her feelings.

Bucky's mouth opened in a silent scream of her name, and he leapt from his spot, tossing his weapon to the side. Andrew Eaton grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and yanked him back to safety. The girl took that opportunity to scramble to her feet. Behind her, Bucky's muffled shout echoed in her ears.

"He's okay," she reassured herself. "Bucky's okay."

The wounded soldier was lying on his front, eyes closed and motionless. She fell to her knees, placing two fingers against his windpipe. There, faint and irregular, an indistinct pulse was striving to intensify.

The soldier was alive. Good, she thought, I can work with that. His dog tags peeked from under his coat: Matthew Miles Davidson. Frantic hands ran over his body, feeling for a wound. Her hand came away wet, and she discovered his pants soaked with blood. Bracing herself on her knees, the girl rolled Matthew over with a groan.

"Sorry," she whispered when he moaned in anguish. "I'm sorry." Producing a pocket knife, she cut the fabric away from his right thigh, displaying his injury. Puckered skin oozed a steady flow of red, painting her hands. She laced her fingers together and pressed against the opening, using her entire weight to stop the blood.

The girl's thoughts were in overdrive, swiftly taking in and storing information. No exit wound, meaning the bullet was still inside. Matthew was faintly moving, his chest rising and falling with every breath. The girl decided she would remove the bullet, bandaging the wound before dragging him past the trees for cover.

However, over the adrenaline rushing through her ears, she did not realize another fight had broken out. Someone shouted from a distance, and the girl pulled away, unbuckling Matthew's belt and folding it in half. She needed to clean his wound, and since the morphine was in a different pack, with the rest of the medicine, Matthew was going to feel everything.

He was slightly more lucid now, staring at her, so she grabbed his face and urged him to listen. "Bite down on this, Matthew." And he obediently followed her direction.

"Good, you're doing very good." She ran a hand over his hair, cooing with a sad smile. "Don't make any noise, okay?"

The girl retrieved a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a large roll of bandages. She had tweezers in her pack for removing the shell, needle and thread for the other gashes. Those she kept in the kit and moved out of the way. Uncapping the rubbing alcohol, she liberally poured some over her hands to sanitize them before positioning the bottle over the laceration.

"This is going to hurt," she warned Matthew before tipping the bottle over.

The second the ethanol breached his wound, Matthew let out an ear-splitting scream, despite the sound being muffled by his belt. He writhed on the ground, body spasming in pain.

His groans of agony cloaked the racket of the fight around her, making it so she couldn't hear the tank powering up.

"You're okay, Matthew!" she cried.

From her right, someone screamed, and a solid form collided with her, tackling her to the ground. The night sky turned a light blue, flashing white for a brief moment, and the girl raised her head. In her spot, where she sat just a second ago, tending to Matthew's wounds, was air. No supplies, no pack, and no Matthew. The only evidence that something, or someone, had been there was the roll of bandages in her hand and the blackened earth outlining the shape of a body.

Looking to her saviour, she didn't know if she should be grateful or ungrateful that her life was spared.

"You're okay!" Bucky cried, roaming his hands over her body, feeling if she was alive and well. "Fuck! I told you to fucking stay there!" He craned his neck to witness his men steadily losing ground, unmatched by the enemy and their technology.

When Bucky turned toward the girl, the fear in his eyes left her paralyzed. Panic-stricken hands ripped at her clothes, and at first, she was too shocked to react, but as the feeling returned to her limbs, she protested against him.

Bucky smeared a handful of dirt over her face, covering her eyes and lips. She clawed at his chest, trying to stop him, but he forced her back. They were still on the ground, him on top of her, leaving her immobilized.

Then he grabbed the bandages and lifted her undershirt to wrap her chest. "Stop," she whimpered. "Bucky, stop."

He didn't listen.

"James," she pleaded.

And there was that damned name again. Bucky stopped, looking into her eyes to see his terrified form reflected back. "We're losing," he rasped.

No further explanation was needed when Bucky looked at her like that. The girl heard all he wanted to say, saw all he wanted to do, and felt all he begged to show. She relaxed her body, giving him all her trust, and let him do what he did best.

That night the moon witnessed the girl surrendering to Bucky Barnes. That night, he saved her.

The air reeked of secretion. The girl didn't know why she found that detail so surprising. What else was a prison supposed to smell like if not human feces, fear and hopelessness?

She didn't remember the ride over. Shortly after surrendering, they were herded, like cattle, into armoured trucks. Masked men pulled her away from Bucky and tied her hands behind her back, shoving her into a separate truck.

The drive wasn't long, and in a few hours, they were stopping. When a guard pushed her and nine others into a dark cell, she fell to her knees and cried. Fortunately, Andrew Eaton was in the same cell as her, and he pulled the girl to him, muffling her sobs against his chest. Her high-pitched wailing was sure to catch someone's attention.

War was not kind to men, even less to young women. If they caught her, what would they do? She remembered the fear in Bucky's eyes as he frantically concealed the weight of her breasts, flattening them to resemble a man's. She decided she didn't want to find out.

The girl fell asleep in Andrew's arms wishing she was in Bucky's embrace instead. But Andrew was cold, and no matter how hard she tried, her imagination could not do Bucky justice.

In the morning, guards came for them. A burly-looking German soldier explained to her group in broken English that they were going to be put to work. Weapons manufacturing. "How does it feel?" he asked, "that we'll be killing your brothers with the weapons you make for us." They laughed amongst themselves, then pointed their guns at her and the prisoners, putting them to work.

Nights passed miserably. Andrew assured the girl Bucky was somewhere in the facility, in one of the cells scattered across the vast space, though that did little to calm her. She cried herself to sleep, body aching from the laborious work forced upon them.

By morning, the news spread. Men were being taken away.

A foul-faced officer was picking soldiers at random, plucking them away. "Hitler's right-hand man," someone sneered. "The devil incarnate," another cowered.

Andrew kept the girl tucked away against him, shielding her from wandering eyes. The dirt on her face had washed away, her hair loosened from her braid, bindings slack. She finally looked like a woman.

She saw the proof of it etched on Andrew's face when the guards came near. It was yet another night, and she was resting her head against the thick bars of the metal prison when she heard them. Andrew tried to hide her, but space was limited, and the devil's keen eye landed on her before she could move.

"What have we here?" A man with a drooping face and quizzical brow bent down to look at the girl. He grabbed her jaw in a rough grip through the bars when she attempted to crawl away. "Ah!" he exclaimed fervently, digging his nails into her skin until she whimpered. "A girl?"

His free hand went to her neck, dropping lower and lower until she protested, pushing him away. "No!"

The man raised a brow. "How did you manage to slip through, Mäuschen?" He gestured to the guards behind him, who marched forward to open the bars. "Let's find out, shall we?"

"Don't touch her, bastards!" Andrew shouted, pulling her back.

The girl wanted to stop him, but she became paralyzed with fear. The men had guns and long sticks—Andrew had nothing but his wits about him and a pair of worn fists.

The next few events happened in quick succession. A muscle in the devil's face twitched, his smile momentarily dropping, which he swiftly schooled. "Das Mäuschen has a protector? What a waste." He shrugged carelessly. "No matter. Always more where he came from."

A bang resounded, and Andrew fell backwards, eyes wide and unmoving. Someone screamed, loud and shrill. It wasn't until a guard whisked the girl away that she realized it was her screaming.

The prisoners shouted in protest as she passed by them. From amongst the hoard of fury, a pair of blue eyes met hers, two hands grasped cool metal, and two lips parted to call out her name. The girl craned her neck to look, but heavyset doors closed behind her before the voice could reach her ears.

She closed her eyes to block out her surroundings, and when she finally reopened them, it was the next day.

His name was Arnim Zola—Dr. Arnim Zola—and he was a scientist working for HYDRA. That's where they were held captive, the Doctor divulged, at one of the many facilities HYDRA owned across the continent.

The Doctor passionately described the importance of the work done at HYDRA while the girl was bound to an exam table. "How lucky that you will not only be alive to see HYDRA shine, but you will also take part in it." He checked the girl's pulse, jotting something down on a clipboard. "We lost many of the men. They all fight the effects. It will be interesting to see how a woman fares, don't you think?"

She was too tired to struggle, and when the Doctor injected a burning liquid in her veins, she found she was too tired to scream.

The world turned black.

When she came to, however long later, Dr. Zola was hunched over his desk, shuffling through papers while muttering under his breath. "How is this possible? I gave her a larger dose."

The burning had turned to ice in her veins, and she shook violently against her restraints as she shivered. "Please..."

"I don't understand. Are you sweating it off?" Then he hummed. "I will need more tests." And her world turned black once again.

How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? Months? The girl could not be sure of anything other than that the cold in her veins had found a home in her heart.

"Immune," she heard the Doctor repeat. "Nothing is working."

She was counting the marks on the wall of the tiny room she was locked in when Dr. Zola approached her one day. "Herr Schmidt wants me to dispose of you," he told her. "But I think you can serve us yet."

She turned away from him and closed her eyes, trying to ignore him.

"That prisoner. What was his name? The one who died protecting you?"

Andrew. The girl opened her eyes and looked at Dr. Zola with distrust.

"He made me wonder if the others would do the same."

"They won't," she told him, trying to hide her desperation. "I'm only a nurse."

Dr. Zola snickered mischievously, slowly backing out of the small room. "We will see about that."

That night they brought the first prisoner. Someone she did not recognize. "Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."

He spat on Arnim Zola's face. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch!"

The Doctor wiped away the drool with a wry smile, gesturing to the soldiers holding the girl still. "No!" she managed to shout before they plunged her face into a bucket of ice water.

She held her breath at first, hoping to bide some time before they pulled her out, but as her heart raced and the grip on her arms tightened, she couldn't help it any longer. She began to thrash, shaking and sputtering as the water invaded her lungs.

After what felt like an eternity, she tasted fresh air, heaping lungfuls to ease the burn in her throat.

The prisoner thrashed against his restraints, screaming profanities into the air as Dr. Zola injected him with a blue substance.

"Stop resisting!" the Doctor demanded. "You'll ruin the transformation!" He turned toward the girl. "Do you want her to die?" he asked the prisoner. "They'll kill her."

The prisoner screamed louder.

"Again!" Dr. Zola ordered.

The girl managed to take a deep breath before they plunged her into the water again, not that it helped. The torture went on for the rest of the night. By the last hour, the prisoner had died, lying in a pool of vomit.

The next night they brought the second prisoner. Someone she did recognize. "Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."

"Jeremy? No!" the girl began to cry. "No, not him!"

"Miss?" Jeremy looked at Dr. Zola with indignation. "Let her go."

"Do as I say," Zola repeated, "and I will."

"Go to hell."

And so it began.

Though, It did not last very long. When the girl screamed for the first time, Jeremy Bradshaw gave in. "I'll do it. I'll do anything. Just let the lady go."

Zola smiled victoriously. "Now, that wasn't so hard. Was it?"

A few hours later, Jeremey's heart gave out.

"He was weak," Zola proclaimed. "We need someone stronger."

The next night they brought the third prisoner. Someone she knew.

The girl had prepared herself this time. She wouldn't cry or scream out; she would fight! But none of it mattered when she saw the person standing before her.

War was not kind to men, and this one was proof of it. His hair was longer, touching the tips of his ears, and a light beard covered most of his face, making him almost unrecognizable. Almost. His piercing blue eyes stayed the same.

"James," she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes, waiting for the moment he saw her.

"Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."

Bucky screamed the moment he did, mouth open in rage. The girl wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Was she as haggard in appearance as him? She sure felt it.

Bucky threw the soldiers off him, shouting her name as he ran toward her. He came to a halt when someone put a gun to her head, and the soldiers took the opportunity to restrain him once again.

"Yes, you are strong, indeed. Now, will you do as I say?" Zola asked.

"Eat shit, cocksucker."

Bucky was being so strong. So could she.

When the soldiers grabbed the girl, she was ready. She kicked one of them between the legs, and when he loosened his hold, she bit the hand on her shoulder. She must have made it two steps before they restrained her again.

She heard the buzz before she could feel it, and an unbridled scream left her. Electricity travelled up her spine, burning a pathway through her nerves. Her muscles went lax, and she fell, convulsing on the cold floor.

"No," she whimpered as they administered another shock through a small black device. But they were unrelenting, kicking her half-conscious form while she was down.

Bucky roared in rage while they abused her, but he could do nothing but watch as they gave her another electric shock.

"I'll kill you sons of bitches! I'll fucking kill you!"

Zola injected Bucky with the blue liquid. "Relax your muscles! Let the transformation take over."

"Fuck. You!" Bucky seethed.

The girl crawled toward him from her position on the ground, dragging herself by her nails. The soldiers followed leisurely, laughing at her pathetic attempt. The next shock made her throw up. Bile and stomach acid; since she hadn't been able to keep anything else down.

"She'll die, Soldier," Zola warned Bucky. "There's only so much a person can take."

Bucky stopped thrashing, briefly looking at the girl before addressing the Doctor. "What will you do to her?" he asked, unconcerned for himself.

"Bucky, no."

"Will you hurt her?"

Zola smiled, knowing he had won. "As long as you do as I say, I promise she will remain unharmed."

The girl began to cry. "Don't give up, Bucky. I can take it."

"—No, she can't," Zola interrupted.

"James!"

Their eyes met, and the girl knew Bucky had made up his mind. "I'll do anything." He slumped against his restraints, giving over his control. Before the Soldiers dragged her away, Bucky mouthed three words that shattered her completely. "I love you."

The doors closed before she could mouth it back.

Bucky Barnes was in shock. He had to be. That was the only reason he was on his feet after a week of hell, feeling only slightly bruised and fatigued. Yes, it was the shock that kept him moving, and not whatever it was the Doctor injected in him.

"Did it hurt?" Bucky asked, only slightly stumbling.

"A little," replied Steve Rogers. The same Steve Rogers Bucky remembered being at least two heads shorter.

"Is this permanent?" Bucky took in the striped shield, the muscles hidden by leather.

"So far."

Bucky chuckled, pressing his chest to feel his heart beating wildly within.

"The exit's through here," Steve gestured.

Bucky pulled him back. "Wait. I have to find someone first."

"Who?"

Bucky stared at his friend for a moment, hesitating. Steve didn't know the girl was with him. She never told anyone where she was deployed. Bucky whispered her name before clearing his throat and saying it louder.

He saw the surprise on Steve's face slowly morph into determination. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's get her."

They found her quickly. She was in an unmarked room on the second floor, hiding underneath a small blanket. Steve stayed behind, and Bucky entered the dark space with careful steps.

He heard the girl whimper in protest and scurry closer to the wall. "Not again. Please!"

Bucky bent down, and what he saw made him pause. He almost didn't recognize the girl with her sunken face and pale skin. She had lost weight, and her clothes were hanging off of her, but her eyes were what broke him. Wide and distrustful. Lifeless.

Bucky wiped his tears away, determined to stay strong. "Come here. I've got you."

The girl crawled farther away as if trying to embed herself in the wall. Bucky grabbed her face with both hands. "Look at me. Hey! Look at me, doll. It's Bucky."

She finally met his eyes, and Bucky saw the moment she recognized him. "James?" she sobbed, clutching his shirt in a weak grip. "You're here!"

Bucky lifted the girl in his arms, keeping her close to his chest. The first thing he noticed was how cold she was; the second was that she weighed almost nothing. When Bucky stumbled out, unsteady on his feet, Steve grabbed her from him, exchanging the shield for her. "Reserve your energy. We've got a long way to go."

"Steven? Am I dreaming?"

Steve laughed sadly. "No."

"You're big now," she sighed. "What happened?"

Steve shrugged. "I joined the army."

"I always knew you would."

They all laughed, happy for a moment that they were reunited. But danger was near, Bucky could feel it, and his smile dropped. Around them, parts of the building exploded, making the ground shake.

"Quick! Through here!" Steve shouted, taking two steps at a time, and Bucky tried his best to keep up. They were so close. He could feel it.

"Captain America!" A voice shouted, stopping them. "How exciting!"

Steve lowered the girl to her feet, grabbing his shield from Bucky and taking a fighting stance.

When Bucky realized who the strange voice belonged to, he pulled the girl behind him, shielding her from view. It was him, the man who dragged her away all those days ago. Bucky couldn't tell then, but it was apparent now that he was a high-ranking officer. Perhaps the mastermind behind this whole operation. Zola stood next to him, cowering behind a large briefcase.

"I am a great fan of your films!" mocked Johann Schmidt. "So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive."

Steve and Schmidt were at arm's length, and the Captain did not hesitate to swing at Schmidt. The man stumbled back, clutching his face in surprise.

"You've got no idea," Steve huffed.

"Haven't I?" And Schmidt took a swing of his own, putting a fist-sized dent in Captain America's shield.

"Steve!" The girl screamed from behind Bucky.

The two began to fight, and Bucky had to keep her from running toward their friend. "He's got it," he told her; and he did.

Steve kicked Schmidt, sending him back a few feet, and Zola stepped forward. He pressed a button that collapsed the bridge Steve was on.

"No matter what lies Erskine told you," Schmidt exclaimed. "You see, I was his greatest success!" He peeled the skin off his face, revealing red flesh underneath.

"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky found himself asking, a bit dizzy from the incident. He held the girl tighter against him when she started shaking like a leaf.

Schmidt made a closing remark that went over Bucky's head, and he and Zola left. An explosion caused the trio to stumble, forcing Steve into action. "Come on, let's go. Up."

Bucky pulled the girl along, and they went up a floor, stopping in front of a metal beam.

"Let's go. One at a time," Steve urged, helping Bucky over the railing.

"What are you doing?" the girl shouted over the loud explosions.

"There's no other way!" Bucky told her. "Stay behind me."

Steve helped her over the railing next, and Bucky grabbed her.

"I can't!" she shook. "I'll fall."

Bucky pulled her close. "Don't look down. Why are you looking down? Look at me."

"No!"

"Yes! One step at a time, alright? Steve's right behind you." The beam quaked with every step, but Bucky did not slow down. He tossed the girl over the railing and leaped the rest of the way; right before the beam fell from underneath him.

Bucky's stomach dropped. There was no way for Steve to cross. "There's gotta be a rope or something!"

"Just go!" Steve cried. "Get out of here!"

"No! Not without you!"

Steve hesitated before backing up as far as he could and making a run for it. Bucky's stomach dropped, thinking Steve wouldn't make it, but then he emerged from the smoke and landed safely on his feet. The trio ran.

The half-moon was low in the sky when they made camp after two day's journey. It was late, and the prisoners were tired. Bucky made his rounds, checking the perimeter and the tents for anything suspicious.

The Battle of Azzanno was still fresh in his mind, and despite Steve's reassurances, Bucky could not let down his guard.

"How is she?" Steve asked Bucky.

Bucky didn't know the answer. "She won't talk to me," he said frustratedly. "She says she's fine, but I can see she isn't."

Steve sighed, having expected that answer. "And how are you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You both went through something traumatic." Steve grabbed Bucky's shoulder. "Talk it out, why don't you?" and left with a reassuring smile.

Bucky found the girl in one of the smaller tents, huddled in the corner for warmth.

"I was waiting for you," she admitted.

Bucky let a small smile grace his lips. They had come a long way. "Not too long, I hope."

"Very long," she rebutted. "I'm all cold."

Something in the girl's expression hinted at something deeper, something permanent. A rawness that she couldn't hide. It made Bucky's eyes burn. "Let me warm you up then." He fell to his knees and embraced her, holding her trembling body as tightly as he could.

The girl craned her neck and looked at Bucky with teary eyes. "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a second because he didn't know. Was he okay? He adjusted his hold until the girl was in his lap, snug against his front. "No, I'm not," he decided. "But as long as you're here, I will be."

Her hair was open, so Bucky put his forehead against the soft strands and closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"

The girl took a shuddering breath. "I—I was scared, and I—" She sobbed once, then twice. "No, I'm not okay!" And she began to weep. Agonizing sobs shook her entire body.

Bucky held on tight, whispering reassurances until, however long later, she eventually settled. "But I will be," she hiccuped.

The two sat silently for a while before she shifted to face him. Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady and caressed her face. "I love you," he whispered, leaning in until their noses brushed.

Her eyes pierced his, conveying all she felt, and she softened in his arms. "James."

And there was that damned name again. Bucky pulled her toward him, closing the small distance between their lips.

Oh, she was soft, putty under his skilled mouth. He groaned, pressing closer until the only thing separating them were clothes. "Sweetheart." He tasted her lips with his tongue, asking for permission which she swiftly granted.

"James," she whimpered against him, clawing at his jacket for purchase. They kissed until she became breathless, reluctantly pulling away with a moan to fill her lungs.

Bucky felt his heart beating out of his chest. "I'm here," he vowed, "I'm right here. Never leaving you again."

Her pleasure-stricken face met his with an intensity that left him more breathless than her lips had. "James, I love you."

And Bucky knew in his soul that all would be well. He took her lips once again, sealing his promise with a kiss.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist

Comments and Reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜

@marvelatthetwilight @hallecarey1 @ria132love

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 10- Doomed

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11

Hi all! I've had some fun in this chapter weaving in some of the MCU canon with the world of this AU. Apologies that it's a bit of a backstory heavy chapter, but I wanted to provide context for Steve and Bucky and plant some potential seeds of doubt in reader's mind to set up the next part of the story. No major warnings here, references to the MCU canon and the stories we all know so well.

Thanks to all of you who have read, commented, reblogged - it means so much to me. Thank you!!

You were sitting in the living room, doing your best to appear nonchalant and relaxed despite being utterly desperate to find out how they’d been turned. It was the one question they had never broached in your time living here, and you always thought it rude to ask.

Steve plopped down into his favourite armchair and inhaled deeply. Bucky perched next to you, tense and stiff – his shoulders rigid. You couldn’t see his face as he sat right on the edge of the couch, looking over at Steve.

“Okay…well. I’ll start with my story, and then Bucky can tell you his. Right, Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, rolling his shoulders. The discomfort was pouring off him. You could see this was very difficult for him, tentatively splaying your fingers across his lower back to show him you were there. He didn’t seem to react, but he didn’t move away either, so you kept them there.

Steve began his story. He and Bucky had been childhood friends both desperate to enlist in WW2 and do their bit back for the war effort back in the 40s. While Bucky successfully enlisted and was posted to England, Steve was struggling, he was on the weaker side and had an endless list of ailments and health conditions which prevented him from joining. But he persisted, desperate for someone to give him a chance and let him prove he could be valuable despite his physical shortcomings.

You looked over at Steve as he spoke, his muscles straining under his shirt and the chair sagging slightly under his bulk and you tried desperately hard to imagine him as ‘weak’ or have any sort of physical shortcomings – but your mind drew a blank. You couldn’t fathom such a thing. So much so that you wondered if he was teasing you.

Eventually Steve caught the eye of a Dr. Erskine, a radical scientist who pursued bold new strategy techniques which could win the war for the Allies. He thought Steve would be a perfect candidate for a top secret initiative – the Super Soldier programme.

You raised a brow. “Wait…did that mean?”

Steve nodded. “Yup. Obviously I didn’t know that at the time…but yeah”.

Erskine’s ‘super soldier’ plan was not as scientific as he’d initially lead Steve to believe. Essentially the US government had managed to capture a real-life vampire some years back, keeping him locked up in a windowless cell and ensuring his existence was top secret. They fed him blood and knew he would be useful one day. After WW2 broke out, that time had finally arrived - Erskine hypothesised that the ultimate weapon against the Nazis would be an army of vampire super soldiers – eventually convincing top government figures and military personnel to agree to his plan.

Your eyes bulged out of your head at the insanity. “What?? Are you kidding?” you choked out. Bucky, who had been silent throughout, absent-mindedly clutched your knee.

Steve nodded. “What better soldier than one with super strength and speed, who doesn’t tire and can rip the throat out from the enemy before they can even reach for their weapon?”

You scoffed, wincing slightly at the imagery. “Well…yeah. But what about the fact this ‘army’ wouldn’t be able to travel in daylight and would need a windowless place to sleep? Tents on the battlefield aren’t going to cut it. And what about when they get hungry??”

Steve grinned. “Apparently not everyone had your foresight, sweetie”.

Steve explained that he wasn’t enamoured with the idea at the time (once he’d got his head around vampires existing). But he was desperate to serve his country, and it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. So he freely went, taken to the vampire prisoner who was more than happy to oblige if it meant he got a real meal out of it rather than the animal blood his captors fed him. It hurt like hell and Steve thought he was dying, and the resulting days were the most painful of his life as his body transformed, but it worked. Gone were the illnesses, the weaknesses. His tiny frame bloomed into something altogether more muscular and intimidating. Suddenly he was the perfect super soldier, ready to serve.

It worked well at first. Steve and a few chosen others became the first unit of this new breed of soldier. They took down scores of enemies, their hunger satisfied by their victims so the army didn’t need to provide blood. They effortlessly snuck behind enemy lines and took out high rank officials before the guards even knew they’d broken in. Metal containers were constructed for them to rest in during the day, carefully watched over by armed soldiers. Steve was eventually reunited with Bucky on the front, his best friend stunned to learn about this new development.

He also met a plucky young British woman named Peggy Carter. Peggy was part of the super soldier initiative and was a huge support to him during his transition. The two were instantly drawn to each other, their chemistry undeniable. Steve didn’t know about the bond between some vampire and human pairings until years later, but as he learned more about his vampire life it immediately clicked that it was what he and Peggy had.

For a while, it looked like Erskine’s gamble had paid off. The super soldiers were dominating their targets, advancing as they eliminated some of the Nazis’ top men. They learned of a terrorist group called HYDRA, a unit of rogue Nazis looking for world domination and conducting inhumane experiments. The group successfully brought down several HYDRA bases. But then the foundations of government’s golden project began to crumble.

It wasn’t noticeable at first. Soldiers go missing all of the time during battle, sometimes they’re transferred or missing in action and their bodies just aren’t recovered. There were no computer records in WW2 so it was easy to lose paperwork, or for files to get lost. But then it became clear something more sinister was going on. Some of Steve’s unit were struggling with their hunger, unable to control themselves. They’d sometimes go days without a kill, the thirst becoming more and more desperate as the hours rolled on. The military refused to find them an alternative food source. Eventually they started turning on their own battalion when it got too much. It started out as intending to only take a little blood, just to keep them going and not really hurt anyone, but discipline goes out of the window when you’re starving and haven’t fully adjusted to your new life yet. It quickly became clear they Erskine and his colleagues didn’t fully understand the importance of keeping vampires satiated until it was too late.

You gulped as you listened, horrified by the implication.

A group of them broke away, rebelling against their superiors and refusing to be minions to the officers any longer. They were hungry, they felt trapped. They staged a coup, taking out several officers and fellow soldiers as they seized control. Steve and some of the others managed to fight them off and subdued them to regain order. The offending super soldiers were convicted of treason and sentenced to death for their crimes, thrown out into the sunlight and left to die. The program was immediately eliminated and the original imprisoned vampire killed in order to prevent it happening again. Any evidence of it was buried, paperwork burnt and witnesses bribed. The only reason Steve and his small group were spared was because of their help in bringing the others down.

The government knew the remaining vampire soldiers would never reveal their true nature publicly and expose their program because it would put their own lives at risk. Steve was relieved from that unit, but his superiors made it clear they’d be watching him carefully. Over time his comrades depleted, some not being able to handle their new reality – stepping into the sunlight or fleeing from their post and disappearing into the world to start a new life. Eventually Steve was the only one of his original team who remained.

“It wasn’t entirely their fault” Steve said gravely. “They were wrong…but they didn’t really understand what they’d signed up for. None of us did. Transitioning to a vampire is an incredibly difficult thing to do, never mind when it’s happening to you during a war. It takes time to get your hunger under control and we weren’t treated as well as we could’ve been. It was a perfect storm”.

You nodded, smiling sympathetically. You wish you knew what to say, but no words came.

Steve eventually teamed up with Bucky again, forming The Howling Commandos – an elite combat unit lead by Steve to finish off HYDRA once and for all. He fed where he could, between the enemy and stray animals. He managed to negotiate keeping his metal container to sleep in. The unit continued where the super soldiers left off, destroying HYDRA piece by piece. Steve’s enhanced abilities and Bucky’s marksmanship meant they were a force to be reckoned with.

“And the rest is Bucky’s story to tell” Steve said gravely as his tale drew to a close.

You exhaled, reeling from these revelations. “My God, Steve” you said quietly. “I’m sorry you went through all of that…”

Steve smiled thinly. “Thanks sweetheart. It was a long time ago now. I definitely would’ve done some things differently had I known then what I know now. But it is what it is. I can’t change it”.

You smiled back at him, feeling empathy for all he must’ve seen. A young man so desperate to serve that he was willing to do the unthinkable. You felt anger towards his superiors, that they could have ever thought it was a good idea – that they unleashed something into the world they didn’t understand. You felt they had taken advantage of his patriotism to become their guinea pig. Steve had essentially given his life for his country, only to be shunned and left to fend for himself.

“What…what happened to Peggy?” you asked quietly.

Steve shifted in his seat, his eyes dropping to the floor. “It didn’t work out. Our lifestyles just weren’t compatible anymore. We tried, but agreed it was best we live our separate lives. She wanted to be turned but I couldn’t do that to her, it’s not something you fully understand until you do it – and then it’s too late to go back”. He spoke with his usual pragmatism, but you could see the peeks of his sadness under the surface. "I guess we were doomed..."

You nodded, your heart aching for his lost love. It all added a brand new dimension to him, inner depths you could never have fathomed. But of course it didn’t surprise you that Steve would put her happiness above his own.

“She died a few years ago” he said solemnly.

You felt a lump in your throat. “Oh Steve, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be” he interrupted. “She died a very old lady in her bed, a life well lived. That was always what I wanted for her. What I could never give her”.

He smiled at you, but you could see how painful it was for him even after all this time.

Bucky rose to his feet, walking over to his old friend and giving him an affectionate slap on the shoulder. They hugged for a moment and it seemed to reset Steve, returning to his usual mask.

Bucky cleared his throat and sat back down next to you. He turned to you, his face solemn, brow knitted.

“Okay, Doll. I will tell you upfront, this isn’t a pretty story. I understand if it’s too much, or you change your mind about me, but Steve is right – I can’t hide it forever”.

You reached out to touch his thigh. “Bucky…whatever it is-”

“No” he interrupted. “Just let me tell it, and then you can think about what you might want to do next. Alright?”

He’d made it clear that he just wanted you to listen rather than respond, so you nodded and let him talk. You couldn’t imagine him telling you anything that would send you running out of that door, but the severity of his tone alarmed you slightly. He sighed as he launched into his story, the tension evident in his body as he hunched over himself and spoke to the floor. Normally he was cocky and smug, now he seemed like a completely different person.

Bucky explained that while Steve was undergoing the super soldier program, he and his unit were captured by HYDRA and forced to undergo experimentation. He didn’t offer any details as to what happened exactly and you didn’t pry. Your hand found its way to his lower back once again and you kept it there, your heart already aching at what he’d been through.

Officials were sure that the MIA Bucky and his unit were dead, but Steve refused to believe it. He was right of course, and he led a successful rescue operation. The two were reunited and that’s when The Howling Commandos were formed, Bucky was very willing to help snuff out the group that had caused him so much suffering. He was slightly freaked out by his long term friend’s transformation and new life, but once he got his head around it (and was convinced he wasn’t going to be dinner) he supported him. After all, they were practically brothers.

All went horribly wrong on a mission in 1945 when the group were attempting to take down HYDRA’s top scientist, Arnim Zola. Bucky fell from a moving train atop a mountain and plummeted thousands of feet to his apparent death. Steve and the rest of the commandos assumed he was dead as it would’ve been impossible to survive, with Steve mourning him for years to come as he adjusted to his new way of life as a vampire.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Bucky had actually survived the fall. But only barely, thanks to the experiments Zola had carried out on his body during his imprisonment. He was found by HYDRA close to death in the snow at the foot of the mountain he fell from, and captured once more.

Your fingers pushed further into his back as you listened, your head spinning as you tried to take in everything he must’ve been through. You knew nothing in your imagination would even come close to the horror of his reality.

The Allies were foolish to believe they were the only ones exploiting vampires as weapons, HYDRA were way ahead of them in that respect. They turned Bucky, bringing him back from the edge of death. With a range of brainwashing and experiments they were able to control him – forcing him to use his enhancements to do their bidding and take out enemy targets on their behalf. They wiped his memory so he only operated as a killing machine and nothing else. For decades, even after the war ended, they sent him out in the dead of night to take down those they wanted removed. Bucky became known as the Winter Soldier, a lethal force with his combat skills and enhanced abilities.

You bristled internally slightly but didn’t let your face betray you. You were chilled by the revelations, struggling to reconcile the Bucky you knew, wisecracking and cocky Bucky, as an emotionless killing machine. But you kept reminding yourself that none of it was his fault, and none of it was his choice. Your horror sunk under the surface, not quite disappearing but relegated to the back of your mind.

In a twist of fate, he was eventually sent after Steve after HYDRA had learnt that their old enemy was still alive and kicking. During a well matched fight, Steve recognised his old childhood friend and tried to talk him down. Bucky of course didn’t understand who this was, his memory was sparse and muddled from years of HYDRA meddling with him. Thinking it was a trick, Bucky resisted – until Steve essentially locked him up and Bucky’s memories slowly returned. They eventually broke into HYDRA HQ together and took as many people out as they could, effectively eliminating them – although they are always careful to keep watch in case it returns, and know there are likely other branches operating underground.

Steve helped Bucky regain his shattered memories, they started the antique business and found vampire communities who helped them both feel more settled and understand more about a life in darkness. They both swore never to kill another human being again, seeking out alternative food sources and learning to curb their thirst. Bucky grappled with what he’d been through every day, but was in a far better place than he was a few decades ago.

You reeled from all of this information, unaware that your fingers had essentially formed a claw and your nails dug into his flesh.

He looked at you expectantly with wide eyes and you couldn’t deny the bolt of fear that hit you as the weight of his words sunk in. But overall you felt compassion for him, a desperate need to comfort and soothe him. You got to your feet and for a second you saw panic across his face - he must’ve thought you were retreating, but you launched yourself at him and clung to him like a koala on a branch, pressing your head against his. There was nothing you could say, nothing to say, just letting your body speak for you. You were here. You accepted him. Maybe…maybe you even loved him.

He squeezed you in return, pulling you closer and nuzzling into your neck. You stayed like that for most of the evening, just quietly holding one another. You only took a break when he insisted you eat, and then you were back on the couch curled up on his lap as the hours slipped away.

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point as you found yourself waking up in motion as Bucky carried you up the stairs. He shushed you and soothed you as he lifted you to your bedroom, his strong arms enveloping you. Despite your feelings of calm and contentment there was a snake in the grass, a traitorous thought bubble threatening to shatter your peace. It wasn’t Bucky’s past, you didn’t fear him, you didn’t judge him. It was something else, something fighting to break through as your heavy eyelids sagged and you gave in to sleep.

If Steve and Peggy were doomed, were you and Bucky doomed too?

[ptolomia]

Poison Either Way - Chapter 1

Summary: Ivory “Ivy” Demetrius, daughter of Demeter, member of the Avengers, and Bucky Barnes’ sworn enemy. Could a two week mission in Milan mend their relationship or will it open old wounds and tear them further?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Asian!OC/Reader

Series warnings: Canon Typical Violence, war, blood, gore, death.

Chapter warnings: Flashbacks, Angst, Bucky being cruel, Bucky calls Ivy a bitch, No beta we die like Loki.

A/N: The flashback is italicised to make the reading experience smoother. Message me to be added to the taglist! Happy Reading🫶

Fury had called, instructing me to pack my things for an international mission. Though begrudgingly, I prepared for the worst, packing as lightly as I could. I sighed when I realised how late it was. Rushing into my car I made sure to inform my friend, Allie I was dropping off my cat, Salem. Once she was taken care of I began speeding to the tower.

“There ‘ya are, Ivy,” Bucky’s accent pricked at my ears. As I slipped off the elevator. “What do you want, Barnes?” the words came out with more venom than I’d intended. “Nothin’ Fury told me to come find you, he’s ready to brief us.” he says lazily.

“Avengers, you’re tasked with infiltrating the bases of a new criminal organisation called INDIGO. Your goal is to confiscate their replicas of Dr. Banner’s Hulk serum, our inside sources dictate that they’re using the radiation to create mutants set to destroy SWORD. This will allow soldiers of Thanos onto earth. Your mission will span two weeks as you will cover 1 of 3 international bases each. Ivy, you will be paired with Barnes in Milan, Roger’s and Wilson will be going to California, While Romanov and Barton handle Russia. Is this clear?” Fury’s words left me appalled. Me, and Bucky? How am I meant to spend weeks in Italy with that him? I open my mouth to object but my mouth runs dry. With a raised eyebrow Nick turns and disappears into the shadows.

As I walk up the stairs of our jet I can’t help but remember how cheerful everyone else was. Natasha and Clint boarded their flight joking about their days in budapest while Sam and Steve walked side by side. It was bizarre, there I was sitting on a private jet, across from the only person on the team I despised. I would’ve been perfectly happy with anyone but him, and still. Fury stuck me with him in a misguided attempt to soften our relationship. He’s wrong, there is no “softening” my relationship with Bucky, not after what he said about me, not after he shattered my soul.

Hungary - 2018

My first international mission, I was paired with Bucky and I couldn’t’ve been happier. I’d been harbouring a feelings for him for months. The weeks we spent together had allowed hope to bloom in my chest. I began thinking that romance was blossoming between us. That was until the pinnacle of our mission came.

We’d successfully made it into HYDRA’s Hungarian base, taking down several of their agents before their tech room erupted in flames. The grenade they had set off filling my lungs with smoke. I scrambled to find Bucky, he had to be here somewhere, he was my partner after all. He had to be here!

Jumping through the broken glass I stumbled down the hallway, opening all of the doors before fire could engulf them. I had to find him damn it! My patience wore thin as I reached the end of the hall, one last door, one last chance to find him before we burnt to death.

I jumped into the office, relieved to find Bucky sprawled on the couch by the balcony. I held him up, dragging us to the balcony where Sam could easily see us and send help our way.

In the helicopter I held onto him, “Ivy, please.” he said squeezing my hand lightly. Using my powers, I asked the medic to let me mend the gash on his forehead. He looked up at me, smiling lightly as i started to pinch his skin back together. I hadn’t noticed the way my venom slowly seeped into him. It wasn’t until the all familiar seizing began that I realised what I’d just done. I held him tight, stilling him as the medic injected him with an antitoxin.

When he came to we were in a hospital room, 5 hours later. When he gained the strength to open his eyes he practically leered at me, “What did you do you bitch?!” his words pierced straight through my heart. “Bucky liste-” he cut me off immediately, “No! Why would I listen to you? You almost killed me! I trusted you and you poisoned me!” he said, his hands still shaking. He yelled at me, instructing me to leave immediately, so I did, abandoning the flora of hope that blossomed within me alongside him.

The memory left as Bucky snapped his fingers at me. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow wordlessly. “What’s got you twisted?” he asked unamused. “Nothing, I was just thinking about all the ways I’m gonna make this mission miserable for you.” I smiled, masking the ache in my chest. “Yeah? Try not to kill me this time, that way you have someone to keep miserable.” He rolled his eyes at me, standing to get a drink.

[untoldreader]

A Soldier's Redemption

Masterlist

(Bucky Barnes x fem reader)

Note: These chapter summaries may be modified or expanded upon writing :)

1. The Winter's Shadow

2. A Mission Revisited

3. Echoes of the Past

4. Into the Fray

5. The Burden of Memories

6. Bonds of Steel

7. Unraveling the Truth

8. In the Company of Strangers

9. A Cry in the Dark

10. The Path Forward

11. Shadows of Betrayal

12. Lost and Found

13. A Beacon of Hope

14. The Price of Redemption

15. Whispers of the Past

16. Confronting the Hydra

17. Allies and Enemies

18. A Soldier's Vow

19. Reckoning with the Past

20. Embers of Redemption

≈========================≈

Main Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[darksxder]

mcu masterlist

bucky barnes 

loud roommates | series| smut, fluff & angst | rivals to lovers | college!au |

-  hating your roommate and academic rival wasn’t difficult, especially with his lack of care for the rule of no noise after 10pm

ms. america | series | slowburn | angst, fluff & smut | haters to rivals to lovers | 

- after becoming an american icon in the marines, you’re recruited to take up the shield of captain america 

hydra hero | mini series | heavy angst & fluff | allies to friends to lovers |

- once a brainwashed pawn for hydra, you’re now just someone who went to therapy in the same building as bucky barnes 

druig / makarri 

forever and more | series | heavy angst, fluff & smut | enemies to lovers | canon-divergent | 

-  with the rise of deviants, new eternals must be made, but the process of choosing the best candidate proves deadly, as no price is too high for immortality 

bookshelf building is a gateway to sex | series | smut, fluff & angst| roommates to lovers |   

- you had a rule to never fuck your roommate, but druig made enforcing that rule difficult

eddie brock / venom 

tainted | series | slowburn | angst, fluff & smut | dying!reader x eddiex venom | 

- eddie took everything from you and in an effort of revenge you aim to take away his freedom, but instead steal his symbiote from him

helmut zemo 

the expendables | series | angst, fluff & smut | enemies to lovers to betrayal, repeat |     

- zemo was not afraid of anything but you, as he horribly betrayed you years ago

sins and sugar | series | fluff & angst | chef!au | 

- you’re a quiet but renowned chef, so you aren’t terribly surprised when helmut zemo asks you to travel to paris with him for a new restaurant opening 

natasha romanoff

the sharps  | one-shot |  angst, no comfort | lovers to enemies |        

-   there was nothing natasha romanoff was better at than hating you, even when she was but a child learning how to kill  

dire diner( for @belle82devart​ )| one-shot| tooth rotting fluff | strangers to lovers | 

- natasha liked the hiding spot that your diner proved to be, and she loved how easy it was to fluster you 

peter parker 

good 4 u | one-shot | fluff | friends to lovers |

- once befriending peter parker you start getting stalked by a red spider 

steve rogers 

to miss you, is to live | one-shot | angst & fluff | happy ending |

- your lover reminisces on memories of you, even as his life fades away

baby, i know the law | mini-series | angst & fluff | haters to lovers |

- an accomplished young lawyer usually doesn’t end up with public enemy #1 steve rogers (captain america) at their door, but you certainly did

stucky (bucky x steve x reader)  

command badger | series | angst, fluff & smut | ww2 & future centered | inglorious basterds! type au | not marvel’s view of what war is | 

-  you led a small group of women called ‘the badgers’, that tore down germans left and right, successfully stealing information from the howling commandos

tony stark 

embellishment ( for @belle82devart​ ) | one-shot | fluff & angst| rivals to lovers | 

- you were simply ‘the help’, to Tony stark, but you were loved for your work as the avengers fashion designer, and you aim to prove just exactly why to tony 

wanda maximoff

loving is grief | one-shot | heavy angst, no comfort | dead!reader | wandavision era | 

- losing you in the final battle against thanos was simply too much, and if wanda had to destroy the world to bring you back, she would not hesitate to do so

yondu udonta 

pleasure barge | one-shot | smut & fluff | friends to enemies to lovers|

- you’re brought on his ship for pleasure, but instead staged a mutiny that impressed yondu much more than it probably should have

[gaysindistress]

Allies or Enemies - two

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader

Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.

Warnings: nothing

Word count: 3k

series masterlist | one

taglist: @blackbirdwitch22 @alyeskathewave @learisa @screechingfangirlaf @unaxv @oh-gods-its-a-dragon

When one thinks of a binding ceremony, several things are sure to come to mind.

Maybe this is a ceremony similar to a human marriage where the couple declares their intent to love and cherish each other for the rest of their days. Maybe this is a ceremony similar to a knighting where a squire completes the final stage and takes the vow to become a knight. The possibilities are endless to be completely truthful but yet what this particular binding ceremony entails is nothing that I could’ve ever imagined.

Pepper takes great pleasure in telling me every detail of the Dragonborn ceremony as she cinches my corset and stabs sharp pins into my hair, bundling it into the tightest updo that she can manage.

“You are not to speak to the knight unless necessary. Conversation is considered improper amongst their kind. You are not to create any sort of relationship with this knight. A relationship outside that of diplomat and guardian is considered improper.”

She spares no detail as she paints my face in the palest fashions possible and dresses me in a blood red velvet gown. My shoulders are exposed thanks to the heavily beaded neckline that sits across my chest and constricts my movement.

I detect the faintest hint of a smirk as she whispers into my ear that this ceremony will forever bind my soul to that of a Dragonborn knight and the process is usually quite painful for humans.

“You will wear their mark and it will cause you great pain if you leave sight of the knight. They will be able to sense your every emotion so it would do you well to learn how to control your emotions.”

When she draws back to look upon her masterpiece of human terror in the vanity mirror, I see the pleased look upon her narrow face and suppress a shiver. She gives me a thin lipped grimace before spraying me with an awful smelling perfume.

Coughing and fanning away the offending the scent, I demand to know what it is and receive no answer but that grimace.

As if to add insult to injury, the dreadful woman forced me to wear satin slippers in the same hue as my dress. The cold from the winter storm that rages on outside seeps into my bones as she marches me through the palace. It’s started to numb my toes, causing me to stumble over myself and fall to the ground. Pepper spins on her heel to snap at me but something stops her. Her angry green eyes quickly turn to fearful ones as she tears them away from me and fixates on something behind me. She takes a step back from me and straightens her back, quickly assuming the dutiful advisor persona.

A clawed gauntlet appears to my right and offers itself to me.

‘They’re not like us’ begins to play in my head over and over again as I stare at the hand of my newest captor. The owner clears their throat and the chanting in my mind ceases. Stealing a fleeting glance up, I realize that this is not the same knight that I was close to in the battle room only hours earlier. There are no distinguishing differences between the two but something screams to me that this is not him, the one who promised me safety.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” the knight’s hoarse voice rumbles through his helmet as he helps me to my feet. This is not the other one who asked about the ceremony but instead one who had stayed silent.

I force myself to swallow my emotions despite the dam that they’ve created in my throat and mumble a quiet ‘thank you for your kind words’.

The knight lets out a thunderous chuckle that vibrates my body as well as his. “They are the truth, my lady. Kind words are lies told to assuage weak minded individuals and we do not make a habit of lying in Devora.”

“You should address her as your highness, she is not a lady. Regardless we will be late, your highness,” Pepper says in a clipped tone. Her face has grown as red as her hair but the knight pays her no mind and keeps his attention solely on me.

“Thank you…for your honesty then.”

With his helmet in place, I can’t see his face but there is an air around him that tells me that he’s smiling at me. My mind begins to wonder once more and I find myself imagining what it might look like. What might this knight look like beneath his helm of duty and beauty?

“You may leave. I will escort her from here,” he tells Pepper who balks at the suggestion.

“It is improper…” she begins but he cuts her off.

“Leave.”

She looks to me as if I could be the voice of reason and finds no such thing. I tell her as gently as I can that she needs not worry and we will follow shortly. Her sharp eyes cut from my face to our still joined hands and she turned up her nose before finally taking her leave.

The seconds it takes for her to disappear down the hall feel like they span over centuries but once she’s gone, a sigh of relief escapes me.

Another rumbling chuckle comes from the knight. “What a foul woman,” he muses while moving my hand to rest on his arm and starts to walk, “Is she always in such a miserable mood or does she reserve such behavior for guests?”

“I think she reserves it for me but otherwise her mood is always rather miserable. Maybe it’s the lack of sun here in York,” I suggest as I try to not marvel at the feeling of the warm armor beneath my fingers.

“Ah yes the sun. It is quite dark and dismal compared to Devora but I don’t suspect that the lack of sun is the root of her issue,” he almost whispers to me before moving the conversation along. “I do not mean to be rude but are you wearing perfume?”

I look at him quizzically as I nod my head.

“Did you choose it?” He asks as his voice grows tight and he stiffens beside me.

“No, Pepper did, why? Is something the matter with it?”

His body language is stiffer than it was moments ago and he seems to shift agitatedly beside me.

“It’s rose scented,” he states.

“And?”

It takes him a moment to answer but eventually he does, “Dragonborn have exceptional senses of smell but roses are the one scent we can’t handle. It will make us very ill.”

Instinctively I tense beside him and stall us. His clawed gauntlet comes to rest on top of my hand in an act of reassurance.

“But so do not worry though, my lady. I know that it was not you who chose it and it will not hurt any of us for the time being. It’s more of something to keep in mind,” he tells me in a low voice before he continues, “What did she tell you of the ceremony?”

I attempt to apologize but he has none of it and asks his question again. I rely as much as I can remember. At the end of my rambling, the knight laughs whole heartedly and even clutches at his chest.

“Do not fear it, my lady. It’s common amongst our people so I assure you it will be painless and quick. Stéphanos has performed it many times. What pepper has told you is incorrect but it is not my place to tell what your relationship with your guardian will be. I will allow him to answer any questions that you may have.”

“My guardian,” I half say to him and to myself when we begin to walk again, “who is to be my guardian?”

“I cannot say. It’s not my place.”

“What can you tell me?”

“My name. It’s Samuel.”

“And who is Stéphanos?”

“He is our leader.”

“And the other knights?”

I’m met with silence.

‘It appears his long winded speech has found its limits’ I find myself thinking as we continue our stroll towards where I assume the ceremony is. Pepper thought it best that I didn’t know where it would take place so that I couldn’t run away beforehand. I desperately wanted to scream at her that there was nowhere for me to go, not when Dragonborn freely roamed our halls and hid in the ancient trees that surrounded the palace.

Much to my surprise we are nearing the gardens and are met by the other knights. Samuel lets go of my hand and guides me to take the hand of another knight. When he greets me, I recognize him as Stéphanos. He does the same as Samuel; places my hand on the croak of his elbow whilst keeping it there with his own.

“Good evening, Stépahnos or shall I call you Sir Stéphanos? I fear I do not know your people’s customs in regards to formality.”

“Stéphanos is just fine, my lady but if you wish to tutored in our ways then Natasha,” he tells me as he presents me to the one knight that I have yet to meet, “will do they. She has agreed to tutor you in any way that you desire. She will also be your guardian should anything happen to the other.”

The female knight bows her head in respect but otherwise stays silent. I go to ask him about the final knight, the one who promised me safety only hours ago, when a shrill voice calls out my name. Satin slippers slap the stone beneath our feet as my mother races towards us.

“Oh my dear child!” She nearly shrieks and comes to a halt as soon as she spots the knights who now surround me. Her sorrowful eyes make a sharp path from my face to where my hand rests on Stéphanos’ elbow. “My dear I had wished to speak with you before but I was…otherwise engaged. May I see you for just a moment?”

“Perhaps after the ceremony, your highness,” Stéphanos interjects before I can.

Her face scrunches in annoyance, “I believe I was speaking to my daughter, not you.”

“And I believe that the ceremony is about to begin. Your conversation can wait until it is finished,” the unnamed knight, my guardian to be, speaks up for the first time. His voice ricochets through the room like thunder through a forest, shaking the leaves of dust and cobwebs of the palace. His presence is even more powerful than his three comrades combined as he steps to the other side of me. His clawed gauntlets find their place on his onyx long sword, a silent display of dominance and bravery towards the queen.

Stéphanos mutters something in Draconic to himself. While I know that the strange words that fall from his tongue are in his native language, I do not understand it. During my father’s reign I learned to recognize the language through passing conversations but I was forbad from learning it. Draconic is an ancient language that is sacred to them; anyone who’s not a Dragonborn and is caught speaking it, is sentenced to death immediately.

My mother gasps at the knight, clearly offended that he would dare to speak to her in such a manner. Normally I would’ve expected her to lecture him and demand that the guards remove him from her sight but something tells me she won’t. Whether it be because there are no York guards present or the knight’s bold actions, she makes a displeased expression and huffs instead.

“Very well. I shall find you before you retire for the night,” she tells me in a cutting note as she skirts around us towards the garden doors.

Once she’s gone and the doors have closed, the knight turns to Stéphanos and says himself to him in Draconic before signaling to Samuel and Natasha. The three nod to their leader and follow after my mother.

“Ready, my lady?” Stéphanos asks me when we’re alone.

‘No I’m not’ I think to myself but I have to be. I have to be ready for this.

So I give him a polite smile and tell him that I am.

A dull knife is often more dangerous than a sharp knife because you do not expect it to hurt you. You are lulled into a false sense of safety by the blunt edges and do not take the proper precautions to keep yourself safe.

The knife that Stephanos is holding gleams in the moonlight as he stands over the knight and I, quietly chanting a Draconic prayer. Our scenery is reflected in the metal blade, painting a rather grim affair; a broody knight being bound by duty to a forsaken princess in a nation that is weak and desperate. Between the reflections of us, I can see that the blade has been sharpened to the thinnest edge possible. A part of me is grateful for this as it slices through my flesh and blood beads from my palm without the faintest hint of pain. I do not feel the usual sting until well after the cut has been made and droplets of my blood have been poured over a small pale white stone ring.

When the sting does race through my nerve endings and communicate with my mind that I’m in pain, the stone has absorbed my blood and allowed itself to become a marbled mess of sanguine white.

When the hiss that follows my pain finally slips past my lips, I’ve been instructed to close my eyes so that my knight can don his ring. Once again too distracted by everything around me, I fail to do as I am told in time and catch a glimpse of lustrous white scales that I was not meant to see.

When I’m told to open my eyes, my hand is clutched to my chest and those scales are nowhere to be seen. In their place is a black clawed gauntlet with a necklace dangling from it. Stephanos mutters more Draconic over the necklace before instructing a servant to take it and place it around my neck. Even without doing it himself, a rush of heat unlike I’ve ever felt before overcomes me when the necklace takes its place against my sternum. One brief glance at it tells me that it’s the twin to the knight’s ring; a pendant of a white and red stone set in a delicate silver frame. Stephanos continues in Draconic and I continue to stare but this time at the knight’s hand where I had seen such familiar white scales.

“Are you alright?” I hear through deaded ears. The dryness in my eyes tells me that I’ve been staring for too long and I attempt to blink it away without success. Stephanos’ head is bent towards me as if he were trying to get on my level but no matter how low he might bend, it still would not matter with how tall the horns on his helmet are.

My brows pinch together in confusion while I try to piece together what’s happening. My mother’s soft cries and Anthony’s false reassurances do not reach my ears nor do the hushed conversations of Samuel and Natasha. The night’s song of gentle wind gusts and songful owls passes me by as do the creaking of ancient trees and vexing toads. All that I hear is the sound of my own blood pounding and my breath hitching as the world rushes past me. All I feel is that burning heat from my sternum racing through every vein and into every cell in my body.

All I feel is him.

What’s more cruel than being forced to endure a confining and uncomfortable form is doing it while listening to the ear splitting shrieks of humans. All around me humans are screaming and panicking as if the princess has suddenly and tragically died. With her motionless body cradled in my arms, I can hear her heartbeat as it pounds in time to my own but neither the queen or her cowardly husband are willing to listen to me. Somewhere behind me Natahsha and Samuel are keeping the weeping royals contained while Stephanos kneels before me.

“Tell me.”

“Her body wasn’t strong enough to handle the binding but she will be fine. Her heartbeat is steady and her breathing is returning to normal. She will need rest,” I state before being interrupted by my own intrepid thinking. Between my focus on the ceremony and maintaining my human form, I hadn’t noticed the utterly repugnant smell of roses. My body wishes to throw the princess and put as much distance between her and I as possible but I cannot. The most infuriating part is that I would’ve been able to only minutes ago for it’s the ring that I now wear that refuses to let me do so. The twin stones will not allow me to put her in harm’s way nor will they let her do the same to me. They will keep us close to each other whether we want that or not in order to maintain both of our safety.

Stephanos whispers my name, snapping my attention back to him. “I suspect we will need to leave for Devora sooner than planned. Can she travel?”

His words are followed by the sound of a hysterical queen demanding our heads for harming her daughter and several ill equipped guards coming to her aid.

“She might not have another choice.”

[barneswinterraven]

Point-blank

Pairing — Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary — a decision must be made before someone pulls the trigger

Y/N finally finds a dark corner, hoping it could be her temporary safe haven.

Her rings are ringing, her heart thumping, and her body buzzing from the adrenaline as she comes to a stop, leaning against a wall.

As she pants from exhaustion, after sprinting for several minutes, she thinks about how the hell she ended up here—running and hiding away from people she thought of as comrades, allies, and family.

Just an hour ago they were happily lounging around the compound together, with Y/N cuddled up beside Bucky's side.

Bucky. She sighed as she thought about the love of her life who is now suddenly become her enemy.

Still, in her found corner, she gets thrown back to her current situation when she suddenly hears footsteps approaching her. Footsteps that she has grown to know who they belong. if this was any other time, she will feel the excitement surging through her body, but this time, all she can feel is dread.

Y/N turns her head, knowing fully well that it was too late to run. Time to face the inevitable, no escaping this time.

Bucky turns the corner, immediately pointing the pistol right at the middle of her head.

"You don't have to do this Bucky. Please don't." Y/N tries to put on a brave front but the trembling of her voice betrays her. She tries to plead with Bucky to not do the unimaginable, to have a glimpse of the love they share, or rather shared.

She tries to remind him who she is, his best friend, his doll, his better half. But to no avail and to Y/N's surprise, Bucky flatly replies, "You're my mission."

A loud siren blares throughout the place, followed by an AI voice announcing that there are only 10 seconds left continuing on to a countdown.

Y/N, having no choice, raises up her own pistol to point at Bucky as if to challenge him, "Please don't make me do this"

5, 4, 3, 2—

And right at the last second, Y/N feels the familiar vibration of her vest.

Eyes large, mouth gaped, she looks down sees her vest's lights blink, and looks right back up to her perpetrator.

"What the fuck Buck, I can't believe you actually shot me! You fucking asshole!" Y/N shrieks at him with a shove on his chest.

"That is the entire point of a laser tag game babe," Bucky chuckles as he tries to hug Y/N for forgiveness. "And for your information, I was forced to shoot you by Steve. He blackmailed our entire group that if we do not shoot whoever is assigned to us, we would do the rest of the paperwork left. And there is no way I am gonna do that"

Y/N only glares at Bucky cursing at Steve in her mind.

Bucky then puts on his best puppy eyes and pouts his perfect lips, "Forgive me?" and lo and behold, Y/N succumbs.

"Fine." and with a sultry voice, "I forgive you but you still have to make it up to me."

"Oh doll, I'll do anything to make it up to you" Bucky can only reply with a glimpse of want in his eyes.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Alright, finish up the paperwork that I have left from the last mission. And just so you know, by finish up, I actually mean that I absolutely haven't started on it. So if I were you, you better go ahead and do it. Love you honey!" and with that, Y/N pecks his lips and walks away with a confident sway of her hips.

Now it's Bucky's turn to stare at her with wide eyes and gaping mouth.

[holylulusworld]

Forever-in-law (7)

Title: Forever-in-law (7)

Summary: What will happen now? Will Rebecca be an ally or an enemy. What happens to Dot and Winnifred now?

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Characters: George Barnes, Rebecca Barnes, Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen, Andy Barber, Winnifred Barnes, Dot

Warnings: angst, language, awful mother-in-law, pregnant reader, awful behavior, mentions of cheating, manipulation, fluff, romance, cuddling & snuggling

Rating: Mature

Words: 2k+

<< Part 6

Monster-in-law masterlist

“We wanted to have a few drinks at the strip club. It was Tony’s, I mean Mr. Starks idea,” Bucky licks his lips as he looks at the detective. “It was my bachelor party. I wanted to get another round of drinks when my ex-girlfriend Dot suddenly stood next to me.”

“Take your time, Mr. Barnes. I know this must be hard for you,” Andy silently watches his client give a statement. He doesn’t step in, not yet. The lawyer is waiting for the right moment to jump in and make sure Dot gets arrested and that Winnifred Barnes stays away from you and your little family. “What happened next?”

“Dot talked to me and tried to seduce me. She touched me, but I brushed her off. I think she distracted me to spike my drink,” you hold Bucky’s hand the whole time, sniffling as he keeps on talking about what happened not two days ago. “I walked back toward our table and excused myself to use the restrooms. When I returned, Tony already emptied my drink.”

“So, it was an accident that Mr. Stark and not you drank the whiskey,” the detective concludes. “We already have the statement of your friends and the doctor. Do you have anything else to add?”

“Shortly after he downed the drink, he felt odd,” Bucky continues. “Tony told us that he feels dizzy and then, he passed out on us. Fuck, this is all my fault.”

“How’s that, Mr. Barnes,” the detective presses on. “What else can you tell us about the incident? Why would your ex-girlfriend do this to you?”

“You know what happened to Tony and saw the footage from that night. What you do not know is that my mother and ex-girlfriend conspired to drug me. I think they wanted to try to ruin my relationship with my pregnant fiancé once again,” you gape at Bucky as he delivers his mother’s head on a silver plate. “My sister will confirm my statement. She heard my mother on the phone that night.”

“She came to me,” you hastily add. “Rebecca couldn’t reach Bucky, so she came to me to tell me about the phone call. Natasha, Rebecca, Celia, and I drove to the club and found Tony on the ground. You know the rest.”

“If you need more, Mr. Levinson, my private investigator will gladly hand you his files. My mother-in-law hired him to find out why my mother hates my fiancé so much. My lawyer already tried to obtain a restraining order to make sure she stays away from me, Y/N, and our baby,” you sniffle as Bucky places his hand on your belly. “I want to make sure my family is safe.”

“The detective said he will talk about my mother with Dot. If we get lucky, my ex-girlfriend will rat my mother out,” Bucky looks around the bedroom, searching for his favorite shirt. “Rebecca wants to come around later to have dinner with us and dad.”

“That’s good,” you are glad Rebecca is not on Winnifred’s side. She even apologized to Celia again, making sure your friend knows she regrets her behavior at the family dinner. “We could order food or cook.”

“I asked dad to order food for all of us,” he flashes you a smile. “I knew you’ll agree that my sister can come around. I promise Rebecca regrets her actions and that she will never mess with you or our relationship.”

“I will keep you up on that promise, Mr. Barnes,” you wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck to kiss him softly. “Maybe we should prepare the table for our guests. I don’t want to end up being an awful host.”

Bucky chuckles at your words. He flashes you a grin while placing his hands on your hips. “Never try to be perfect for anyone, doll. You are perfect the way you are.”

“Aw, you are such a charmer, Mr. Barnes,” kissing him again, this time slow and sensual you smirk against his lips. “You don’t have to try to be perfect either. I love my cocky fiancé. The guy wearing sweatpants and an old worn-out shirt on Sundays. The one who cuddles me after I had a nightmare.”

“I swear if you don’t stop praising me, Y/N,” he smirks darkly, “I’ll devour you right here and now. We will miss dinner and my family will hear every noise you make for me.”

“Bucky, no,” you giggle as he starts to pepper kisses all over your face. “Stop! No. BUCKY! We need to get ready for dinner.”

“Later?”

“Later!”

“I’m happy to have you here,” you tut as George feared you don’t want to have him around for much longer. “We’ve got a guestroom for a reason. You are very welcome to stay.”

“I heard you bought a house,” Rebeccas says, hoping you don’t hold a grudge against her. “Do you already have plans for when you will move out of the apartment?”

“We signed the papers before my bachelor party. Pepper and Tony will make sure our house is ready by the end of the month,” Bucky chuckles at your pained expression. “Y/N don’t worry. Tony said this was the best party ever. He’s not mad.”

“Well, it was partially his fault. He stole your drink and all,” you retort. “Honestly I’m glad it was Tony downing your drink. I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if it was you.”

“Same,” your fiancé shudders. “I never thought Dot and my mother would go that far and drug me to get their will. I can’t believe they would do such a thing.”

“I had hoped that your mother changes her mind after Ari and my mother revealed the truth. She’s so vile,” glancing at the food in front of you, you sigh deeply. “I’m sorry that she did all those things because of me.”

“Y/N, that’s not your fault. She did this because my wife forgot about her family and the life we built together. Winnifred is longing for a dead boy,” George sadly admits. “I know it’s hard to lose someone you love, but that was a lifetime ago. It’s a tragedy he died at such a young age still…”

“She should act like an adult, George. Yes, she lost Jimmy, but this doesn’t give her the right to ruin other people’s lives. You and Winnifred are married, and you have two wonderful children. Winnifred should be proud of her daughter and son, not trying to ruin their relationships.”

“Let’s turn our attention toward the food and a lighter topic. Do you want to attend our wedding?” Bucky expectantly looks at his sister. He already asked his father to come to your wedding a few days ago and George agreed without thinking twice. “You are my sister and I want you to come to our wedding.”

“Of course, Jamie,” his sister softly says. Rebecca pats Bucky’s hand, smiling as her brother wraps her in a hug. “I’m sorry for all the things you went through because of mom. I can’t believe she forgot all about her family for a dead boy…”

“Listen, if you don’t want to end up in jail, we want you to tell us where you got the drugs,” the detective points at the laptop he placed on the table. “We already know that you and Mrs. Winnifred Barnes planned to drug her son.”

“I—” Dot starts to sweat. She didn’t think this through. It was not her plan to get arrested or even caught. All Dot wanted was to get back at Bucky for breaking things up with her. “I got a call from Winnifred a few days ago. She told me where I can find James.”

“That’s a start,” leaning back in his chair the detective watches Dot shrink into herself. “If you want a deal, you’ll deliver us Winnifred Barnes and tell us everything about her plans. What is her next step?”

“I—she,” she starts to stammer. “I think she will try to ruin her son’s wedding too. Maybe even harm the baby. I wanted to win Bucky over again, but he doesn’t want me. I got this now. It was foolish of me to believe he will come back to me. He’s in love with another woman.”

“It seems like Dot made a deal,” Jensen places a copy of Dot’s statement on Bucky’s desk. “She ratted your mother out, though. It was Winnifred handing Dot the drugs, and she conspired with Dot. Your ex said that your mother even threatened to ruin your wedding and to harm Y/N and the baby.”

“She wanted to harm Y/N and my unborn child?” Bucky slams his fist onto the desk, making Jensen jump. “I want her arrested. I don’t fucking care if you need to fake evidence or shit. Get that piece of shit out of my life.”

“We are working on it,” Ari flashes your fiancé a smile. “I’m not against playing dirty. Sadly, our fine lawyers over there want to try to get her arrested with the evidence the police already got.”

“We can’t fake evidence Ari,” Andy places a folder on Bucky’s desk. “Let Mike and me handle the rest. I’ve got an insider within the police. If they don’t do their job, we will step in. Until then, we can only sit and wait.”

“I will keep an eye on Winnifred to make sure she doesn’t do anything drastic. She must know by now that Dot told the cops about her role,” the private investigator says. 

“How much?” Winnifred looks around the empty parking lot. She swallows thickly as she talks to the man she wants to hire. “I want her gone by the end of the week.”

“Who and why?” the man says, sitting in the passenger seat of Winnifred’s car. “We will talk about money after you gave me a reason to kill the person.”

“She’s my future daughter-in-law and a real bitch. A gold-digger ruining my son’s life,” she lies without batting an eyelash. “Can you get rid of her or not?”

“How? Fast and painless or slow and painful,” she huffs while placing an envelope with money into the man’s lap. “Ma’am?”

“You can decide. I only want to get rid of her. My son will be sad for a while but find someone new soon enough,” Winnifred crossed so many lines to get rid of you and get back at your mother, she won’t stop now. “Will you kill her or not?”

“I think,” the man leans closer to place the money in Winnifred’s lap, “you are arrested for solicitation of murder, Mrs. Barnes. The man now gets his badge out, huffing as your mother-in-law starts to throw insults at him. “We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. I want you to get out of the car and place your hands on the hood. If not, my colleagues will gladly chase after you.”

“She’s the worst! You don’t understand!” Winnifred cries, acting as if she is the victim of this story. “What will happen to my Jamie now?” she chokes out.

“I guess he will marry the woman he loves, welcome his child to this world and try to forget his mother is a murderous monster who tried to kill his fiancé…”

“So, you played dirty in the end, huh?” Ari watches the cops lead Winnifred toward the police car. “How did you do this?”

“Let’s say, someone mentioned a way to get rid of Y/N forever,” Andy shrugs as the private investigator furrows his brows. “She would’ve never stopped bugging them. I owed Barnes one, now we are even.”

“Well played, Mr. Barber, well played,” they watch the cops drive away, wondering if they ended up doing the right thing. “I just hope Bucky never gets to know what you did today.”

“He knew about my plan and agreed,” the lawyer shrugs. “Let’s say she had it coming. Dot admitted her mistakes and tries to make amends. Winnifred, I don’t know what’s going on in her mind. Maybe she needs professional help, or she’s just vile. In the end, we had to protect Y/N and her child.”

“Seems like Barnes and Y/N will get their happily ever after now..”

>> Part 8

Reblog in tags.

[sinner-as-saint]

I Am Your Fall.

Mob!Bucky x Ex-Spy!Reader

Run-through: You’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because... he would find you and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you. 

Themes: mob!bucky, smut, angst, fluff, Ex-Spy!Reader, slight daddy kink, guns

“The usual?” 

You nodded at the man in front of you with a faint smile as you took a seat at the bar. You kept the hood of your jacket up as you let out a quiet sigh. Moments later the bartender placed a glass half filled with whiskey and ice in front of you.

You whispered a ‘thank you’ and swirled the drink around in the glass before lifting it up to your lips and taking just the tiniest sip. You often came into this bar after work, just to feel normal again. You worked at a diner right around the corner; it was lowkey and shabby and didn’t attract many customers, neither did it pay well but you weren’t there for the money. 

Your last job, the one you had before ending up in Lowtown Madripoor, paid really well. So much so that you wouldn’t have to worry about money for a long, long time but you still had to blend in and pretend to be as normal as you could; hence the job at the diner. 

You thought of home as you took your second sip. You grew up in a nice family before joining the organization you worked for, as a spy. You let out a quiet little chuckle as you thought of how ever since you were a kid you wanted to grow up and catch bad guys. Which is exactly what you did as a spy. And you were great at your job, your organization couldn’t be prouder of your work. 

You took another sip. Everything was going great for you, until the day you were assigned to infiltrate the life of and take down the infamous mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. The day you heard that you were being sent to him, you were excited because James was notorious for a lot of bad things. You couldn’t wait to step inside his evil lair and take him down. What you didn’t know was that you would end up finding love right where it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You felt a strange knot in your gut as you thought of him. Bucky… 

Oh you had loved him despite his mean, dark demeanor. He was a cold-hearted man to the rest of the world, but only you got to see the warmer side of him. And you fell in love, harder, faster and deeper than you ever thought you could. It got to a point where you had to choose between either betraying your organization or betraying the man who shouldn’t have fallen in love with. That’s when you ran away, far from home. Far from your work which you loved so much, and far from him. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to betray him, nor did you have the courage to tell your people that you failed in an important mission all because you fell in love with the enemy. You knew what happened to people who betrayed Bucky, you had seen it. And you also knew what happened to spies and agents who betrayed the organization you worked for. Both of those situations weren’t ones you wished to find yourself in, so in order to save yourself, you ran. 

And now here you were. 

As you took another sip of your drink, you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up out of nowhere as a shiver ran down your spine. You were being watched. During your training you were taught to absolutely trust your gut, and if you ever got the feeling that you were being watched it meant that there was a high chance that you actually were. 

Shit. 

You set your glass down and placed the money down beside it before slowly sliding off the stool and casually walking out of the bar. You made sure your hood was still up, and you tucked your hands in your pockets. Your fingertips gently felt the hand gun you always kept with you, just in case, secured at your waist under your jacket. 

You looked around, and so far no one was following you. The streets were busy given that it was a Friday night and you were sure that you could make it home safe because no one would attack you or anything in a crowd like this. 

You lived in a modest, 2-bedroom apartment. And you always took the fire escape at the back to get into your apartment because you didn’t trust the rusty elevator at the front, nor did you ever want to run into a neighbor or anyone by taking the stairs inside the building. The fire escape was discreet and lowkey. 

You entered your living room shortly and sensed that something was off. The air was colder somehow, and you never left any windows open. Ever. You shut the door behind you, not locking it. You gently took out your gun and held it out in front of you, at the ready. You moved stealthily, quietly. You knew which spots on the wooden flooring made the most noise so you avoided those. 

Someone was in here, you could tell. The air… it smelt different the further you walked into your apartment. You didn’t switch on any lights, you checked the kitchen first. Clear. The living room. Clear. The spare room. Clear. And your heart raced as you went into your bedroom. The door which normally always remained closed, was wide open. 

You couldn’t even run. Whatever it was, whoever it was you were gonna have to face it. You stepped into your room and with whatever little light was coming through the windows, you tried to scan the room. 

“Lower your gun, babygirl. You don’t need it. I’m not gonna hurt you, and I know you don’t wanna hurt me.” 

The sound of his voice had you frozen in the spot where you stood, a few feet away from your bed. The voice came from behind you. You slowly turned around, not lowering your gun and keeping it aimed right at him. It took you a few seconds to process everything. 

You could make out his silhouette as he stood in front of one of your bedroom windows. Tall, built, his metal arm glistening. He was here. You let out a shaky breath. He was here, he found you. 

You didn’t move from the spot that you were standing on. There was a time when whenever you saw him you’d run into his arms, and despite wanting to do just that even now, you knew you couldn’t. That was back then, this was different, wasn’t it? 

He sighed before moving, walking to the other side of the room to light a table lamp. The soft, golden light illuminated the room just enough. Your heart burned as you took in his appearance; dark suit as always, shorter hair, his metal arm just as intimidating and mean as always and his pretty blue eyes - the same ones you loved, belonging to a man who eventually became the reason why you had to leave your old life behind. 

Bucky was still; calm and composed as always. He was the kind of man who had mastered the art of looking completely steady even when he wasn’t. He could have a storm inside of him, or raging flames of anger but on the outside it would never show. He was as devious and subtle as a predator, moving with the grace and elegance of a ferocious but calculated animal. 

“You seriously thought that moving across the globe and changing your hair color would keep me away from you?” He sounded like he was mocking you. “Took me about almost a year, but I found you.” He walked towards you, making you envy the way he could move so effortlessly. You couldn’t read him. His face was… blank. Void of any emotion. 

He spoke again once he stood right in front of you. “Now, you’re gonna tell me why you ran away.” 

You remained quiet. He could tell you were thinking. He could always tell, he knew you too well. You made a makeshift plan in your head. If you were to shoot him in his arm, just to injure him enough to make him lose his focus, you could grab the emergency bag you always kept under your bed and run. But you didn’t want to hurt him. 

Also, how far would you go? Knowing Bucky, if he had made it to Madripoor he probably had his men surrounding this apartment building right now; all armed and ready to fight. He probably even had people from here all the way to Hightown; which meant that even if you ran from here right now you wouldn’t be able to make it out of Madripoor. 

Like you said earlier, he had found you. There was no way to run anymore. 

“I know you’re thinking about running again.” He teased, shoving his hands in his pockets, letting you know that he had his guard down; which meant that he had thought this through. “Maybe you have an emergency bag somewhere, or you plan on shooting at me to distract me and make a run for it.” He chuckled. “Trust me, you wouldn’t make it out of this apartment, babygirl. And even if by some miracle you did, I will burn this island to the ground to find you again.” 

Despite his tone being all calm, and almost monotonous you could hear the bitterness and the evil promise in his words. He was probably angry, he felt betrayed for sure, he was also frustrated given that he mentioned having searched for you for a year, he was also probably hungry for answers. 

You still remembered that night you left. Your people at work had been pestering you to hand over information and sending you all sorts of threats if you didn’t, but you also could no longer lie and manipulate Bucky, because you loved him. So you left in the middle of the night, leaving your old life, your job, the man you loved, your family, everything behind. 

No notes, no messages, nothing. You and him had been together for a little over a year at that point. And you just snuck out of a one year relationship with no explanation. It was wrong you’d admit, and Bucky had every right to be hurt and angry. 

“Answer me. Why did you run? Why did you leave out of nowhere? And didn’t you go back to your people like the good little spy you are? Why Madripoor?” 

So he knew about your past. You could only imagine what he did to the organization you used to work for when he found them. 

“How did you find me?” You knew how much he hated it when people answered a question with another question. You were surprised when he answered instead of being even more pissed off. 

“It took a lot of people, a lot of bullets and a lot of patience to track you down.” He chuckled. “I must say, you’re good at whatever games you play. But I’m gonna need you to stop for a moment, and give me the answers I need.” He took a small step forward, reducing the distance between you and him. “Why?” 

Such a broad question, why. 

“I had to.” You gave him the most vague answer ever. 

He scoffed. “Okay, let me make this easier for you. Let’s start with, what’s your real name?” 

You almost rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t afford to let your guard down at the moment. Not when you couldn’t even figure out what he was here for. 

“You know my name.” 

Of course he did, he had moaned it so many times in bed. 

He gave you his signature smirk, the one who captured the hearts of many including yours. “I’m assuming that since you’re a spy everything which comes out of your pretty mouth is a lie. So what is your name?” 

You corrected him. “I used to be a spy. I don’t do that anymore. And I didn’t lie about my name. I didn’t lie about many things.” You looked him dead in the eyes when you said so. You wondered if he thought that you lied when you said you loved him. That was real. 

He scoffed. “I’d beg to differ.” 

“You plan on killing me?” You asked, thinking that now would be a good time to know whether or not you would be dying tonight. 

“No.” 

“Then why are you here, Bucky? Why did you look for me for a year, why are you halfway across the globe right now if you don’t plan on killing me for betraying you? What do you want?” 

“You.” 

You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your weapon. You still couldn’t read him. 

He spoke up again, “Why didn’t you lead your people to me? Why didn’t you finish your job?” 

“You might have actually done just that yourself. If you were able to find me, so could they. They probably have eyes on right now. By coming here you just-,”

He cut you off. “They don’t have eyes on you. No one does.” He answered confidently. 

“You don’t know that. You-,” 

He cut you off yet again, he smirked, “Oh I do know, babygirl. I know because I… dealt with each and every last one of them. The people you used to work for, the whole organization, it doesn’t exist anymore I made sure of that. You see, I’ve been quite busy this past year. Between dealing with your people, dealing with my own and playing hide and seek with you.” 

You froze again. Dealt with? “And how exactly did you deal with the organization?” 

“I watched it burn.” He answered, proudly. 

Oh. “You plan on doing the same with me? After your little Q and A, you’re gonna just… deal with me?” 

He fake gasped and placed his metal hand over his chest as though surprised. “I would never do that to you. You see, unlike you I didn’t lie when I said I loved you.” 

That caught you by surprise. You said nothing, pretending like that confession didn’t make your heart race. 

“I’m gonna ask one more time, why did you run?” His tone was cold. 

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d be understanding regarding the whole situation. If you ever found out who I was, let’s be real, you’d kill me right where I stood. And I could no longer go back to my people because they would force me to lead them to you.” 

He raised his eyebrows, then chuckled. “You protected me? What for?” 

I didn’t lie when I said I loved you either. “I didn’t want to manipulate or lie. I didn’t want to infiltrate lives and be dishonest. I didn’t want to have to live a double life any longer. I needed freedom, I needed a way out. So I came here.” You paused. “I’m not proud of what I did to you.” You added. 

You lowered your eyes once you finished talking. Bucky moved closer to you, he reached out and grabbed your chin with his metal hand, tilting your head back gently until you looked into his stormy, ocean blue eyes. You hated how you still couldn’t read him. Was he angry or no? 

“Are you lying right now?” He whispered, and smirked knowing it would piss you off. You pushed his hand away. He chuckled, leaning into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke and it sent shivers down your spine, “Let’s play a game.” He pulled away and took a few steps back. “You love games, don’t you babygirl?” 

Your heart raced. Oh this can’t be good… 

He took some more steps back and then pulled out his gun; the shiny golden one he loved the most out of the arsenal he owned. He aimed it at you, smirking. “I’m gonna ask you some questions and as long as you answer truthfully, I won’t shoot.” 

You remained very still. You hated to admit it, but there was something so immorally powerful about him when he handled his guns. You remember back when you two were together, you could spend hours watching him clean his guns; his favorite toys he called them. Bucky always told you that he believed that weapons shouldn’t be intimidating, but the person handling them should. 

In his case, it was true. Just looking at him made your body throb for a moment. You tried not to let it show but judging by the smug look on his face you could tell that he knew exactly how you felt. 

You knew he would never shoot you.

Bucky Barnes was, afterall, a cunning man who knew how to toy with one’s head. He could have easily taken your gun away from you, could have tied you down on a chair and interrogated you until you gave in. But no, by doing this he was letting you think that you still had some control over this. He knew he had given you the chance, you could’ve easily shot him the moment you walked into the room. But you didn’t. You chose not to. And he knew that. 

You almost smirked when you put it all together. He wasn’t here for answers, because he already had them. He just wanted to hear it from you. He wanted you to verbally say it. He was here for this dark, twisted game of his. 

“Fine.” You agreed. 

He cocked his gun, the sound rang in your ears and it reminded you of the times you pretended not to know shit about guns and had him teach you how to aim. He had done so with a lot of patience and a lot of kisses. 

“How much did you tell your people about me?” He asked. 

You could tell he was easing into it. “I stopped feeding them information after the first six months. I told them it would be risky to keep meeting up with them in secrecy, and that I would soon come back with everything I can gather about you. But I never did.” 

He seemed pleased with that answer. “Of course you didn’t. Instead you ran away.” He watched you cautiously, “How many people know you’re here?” 

“No one does, except for you.” 

That was true. You couldn’t risk going back to your family, not when you were certain that the moment you stepped foot outside of Madripoor your people would find you. 

“Why Madripoor?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “You could’ve easily hid in the country itself given your… skills.” He knew just where to poke you to make it hurt. “Then why here?” 

“Anonymity. No one knows or cares about who you are or where you come from here. Also because I knew that neither the organization nor you had any connections here whatsoever.” You paused. “Clearly I was wrong.” 

He got really serious, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth then? If you couldn’t trust your people at the time, why not turn to me?” 

His question made you chuckle. “I already told you, you would’ve killed me.” 

“And I already told you that I-,” he cut himself off and took a breath. “Why didn’t you trust me?” 

You stared into his eyes, looking. Searching for something you once saw in them. Love, for you. There was a time when he would look at you with nothing but adoration and love. Now he was angry, hurt, frustrated, his power challenged. 

“Because I’ve seen what you do to people who betray you. I knew how much loyalty mattered to you. And I… I couldn’t have possibly looked you in the eyes and tell you that I’ve been lying and manipulating you for a whole year, and that I was sent to take you down.” 

It hurt to say it out loud. 

“You ran because you were scared of me? Of what I would do to you if I found out?” He didn’t bother hiding the hurt. He wasn’t calm and composed anymore, he was visibly troubled. Jaws clenched, fingers tightening around his gun, eyes shooting daggers at you. “Answer me!” He raised his voice out of nowhere and you jumped. 

You lowered your gaze to the floor. In all those years, be it during training or even while on missions, you had never succumbed in any way when a weapon, no matter the size, was aimed at you. Yet now, you could feel your hands starting to shake just a little. 

“Yes. I ran because I was scared of you.” You answered, not having the courage to look up at him. 

He was quiet for four seconds - you know because you counted them - before he lowered his gun and shot at the wooden floor, several feet away from your legs. The sound made you flinch and groan, not in fear but in annoyance. He was breaking you, he was getting everything he wanted out of you. You were giving in, too easily. You hated it. 

“Liar!” He growled and walked right over to you, quickly. His eyes reflected the anger and frustration he felt inside. He placed the barrel of his gun right under your chin. The cold metal made you shiver, mainly because you still remembered that his metal arm felt the same way against your warm skin. “I said no lies.” 

He used the gun to tilt your head back, making you look up into his eyes. He spoke up again, “You ran because you love me, and you couldn’t live with yourself after betraying me. You chose not to lead your people to me, because how could you? How could you do that when you fell in love with the enemy?” Bucky chuckled, removing his gun from your chin and replacing it with his metal hand. 

He leaned in so close that when he spoke next, his lips brushed against yours. “You chose to run away rather than give them what they wanted, because they wanted my fall. You ran from me because you couldn’t admit, nor accept that you cared too much about me.” He chuckled. “You did all of this not because you were scared of me, but because you were scared of them since you had failed in a mission.” He shrugged. “That’s understandable, given you fell in love with the one they sent you to ruin.” 

Your eyes watered. He broke you, finally. He said everything you’ve been avoiding to tell yourself over this past year. And he was right about everything. You were quiet. You didn’t have anything to say to him. 

He spoke up again. “I know for a fact that you knew I would never, ever hurt you. Betrayal or no betrayal.” 

“Buck…” You whispered, your voice cracked as you held back a sob. You felt a single tear slide down your cheek. 

His hand moved from your chin, down to your waist. He pulled you closer, pressing his body to yours. The feeling of his built, taut body against yours brought back memories you weren’t sure you could ever forget. 

“Say it.” He demanded, looking down at your lips, then back into your eyes. His scent filled your senses. He was all you could, and wanted, to focus on. “Tell me I’m right. Tell me the truth you’ve been running from.” He leaned in, as though he was going for a kiss. “Tell me you love me.”

“Bucky, I…” you almost choked on another sob you couldn’t let out. You wanted to tell that you loved him. But the words wouldn’t come out. Something was stopping you; worry or fear or just guilt. 

It was guilt. 

He scoffed. “Too proud? Too self-righteous to admit that the good little spy fell in love with the bad guy?” He pressed his forehead to yours as he walked the two of you back, towards your bed. You knew what he was doing, and you didn’t stop him. “Admit it, babygirl,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear and you felt goosebumps all over your body, “Or maybe I should remind you…” 

Bucky pushed you down on your bed, and he hovered over you supporting himself with one hand while the metal one held his gun right above your face. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl lately.” He murmured, gently lowering his gun and brushing the barrel against your lips, then slowly dragged it down your skin. “Did you think you could hide from me forever?” 

He dragged the tip of his gun all the way down till your thighs, making you tremble. His eyes stared down into yours as he carelessly tossed his gun aside and brought his metal hand over to your mouth again. 

“Do you know how bad I’ve missed you?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his cold fingers. For a moment he forgot why he was here in the first place. 

You shivered under his touch. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I never meant to-,” 

He scoffed, cutting you off. “Shut up, babygirl.” He had a mean smirk on his face. “You’ve been bad. And what did daddy tell you about babygirls who misbehave?” His calm demeanor could fool anyone. Anyone but you. 

You knew him too well. You could tell he was burning inside, agitated. Like a wounded predator, planning his next attack. There was no escaping him now. Not that you truly wanted to. 

“They get punished.” You whispered quietly as he tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb. The simple gesture reminded you of all those times spent with him; the nights you spent in his bed, in his arms… 

He chuckled. “Exactly. Now come on, you have a lot to make up for.” He pulled away, and stood up straight at the end of your bed. “Take your clothes off. All of it.” 

The sound of his authoritative voice had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the sweet pain in between your legs. That tone of his was a weakness of yours, and he knew it. 

You hesitated only for a moment, but the longer he stared into your eyes the warmer your body felt, and all you wanted to do was to get rid of all that you were wearing. You took your jacket off first, followed by the long sleeved shirt underneath it. You scooted forward, sitting on the edge of the bed to take the rest of your clothes off; shoes, skirt, stockings which left you in your matching set of black underwear. 

You looked up at him, waiting for further instructions. 

“I said, all of it.” He let his eyes roam your body for a moment and then he spoke up again, “Don’t be shy baby, I’ve seen it all before, haven’t I?” 

He had done so much more than just seeing it all. You held his stare as you took your underwear off and had to fight the urge to throw it at his face just for the hell of it. 

“Good girl.” He whispered. “Now lie down, spread those legs for me. Show me what’s mine.” 

The crudeness of his words would’ve surely made you blush if you didn’t know just how vulgar and dirty he could really get, this was nothing. 

You did just as he asked. You held yourself up on your elbows, still holding his stare. Bucky eyed you like you were a warm meal and he was a starving man. There was nothing but lust and mischief in his eyes. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

You felt your face get really hot for a moment as your heartbeats rang in your ears. “What?” The question just slipped out before you could stop yourself. 

Bucky smirked. “You heard me. Use your pretty fingers and touch yourself. I assume you thought of me each time you… tended to your needs over these past many, many months. I’m sure you missed me,” he chuckled, just as cocky as you expected him to be, “Or at least you missed having my cock buried deep inside of you. Hmm?”  

You studied his face for a moment. Your emotions were shifting; from guilt to annoyance to shame to lust. And you hated how well he had you figured out. “How do you know I haven’t had someone else tending to my needs instead?” You asked, quickly realizing that this wasn’t an ideal situation to be the brat you used to be back then. 

Bucky let out a little laugh; a hot and evil laugh. “No one will ever satisfy you like I do.” He shoved both of his hands in his pockets. “Even if you did, for some reason, fool around with someone here I assure you they won't be breathing for long.” He responded with a straight face. “You are mine. Nobody touches what’s mine and lives.” 

That speech shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. 

“Now come on, be a good girl and do as you’re told.” He spoke softly. “Show me how you touched yourself when I wasn’t here to take care of you.” 

Your hands moved on their own; caressing your inner thighs before placing your fingers right over your clit. The look in his eyes made your walls clench around nothing. Your lips parted and you let out a shaky breath as you toyed with your clit, smearing your wetness around before slowly rubbing down your folds and slipping past your entrance with ease given that you were dripping already. Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging. 

Needless to say, Bucky was hard just looking at you. 

You stared into his eyes as you gasped in pleasure as your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you. You whined as you fingered yourself, thinking about the last time he touched you – all those months back, on the same night that you left him. And how lovely his mouth felt against your body. Whining in need and frustration, the palm of your hands rubbed against your sensitive clit over and over again as your middle finger slipped in and out of you. 

“Bucky…” you whimpered. 

He just stood there and smirked. “Faster. And don’t you dare cum.” 

You whined, slipping your finger in and out of your wet hole rapidly. “Fuck…” Your own touch took you higher, and higher, and you were on the edge. 

“Stop.” He ordered, moving closer to you but not touching you yet. “Add another finger.” He waited until you did, whimpering as you pushed another finger in. “Good girl, now fuck your little cunt faster for me.” He leaned over and traced your lips with his cold, metal finger, his touch was agonizingly slow. He was so close, but he still wasn’t touching you like you desperately needed him to. 

You took your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. Bucky smirked when he saw how you were struggling to keep quiet. He noticed the way your body squirmed, and he knew you too well so he could tell that you were so close to coming undone. 

“Poor baby,” he cooed, “Is it hard?” he taunted, his fake concern morphing into an evil, handsome and sly smile. “Is it frustrating to not be allowed to have something you so desperately want? Hmm?” 

“Buck… please,” you whined, releasing your swollen lip from your teeth. Your body felt hot, and you needed to just let go and come undone. 

“Stop.” He ordered, shamelessly ignoring your pleas. You stopped, and pulled your hand away from in between your legs. He knelt on your bed, in between your legs. You tried to look away but he grabbed your chin before you could turn your face to the side. He stared into your eyes for a few seconds, not saying anything. Eventually he spoke up, “What do I do with you?” 

You stared at him, a thousand thoughts in your head. “You’re crazy.” You spat, hoping to rile him up. 

He just chuckled softly. “You did this to me.” He sounded bitter, and hurt. He leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making your heart race, “Thoughts of you were messing with my head for the past year.” He confessed, and you felt your heart hurt. “People think I’m cruel, clearly they haven’t had their heart broken by you.” 

You opened your mouth to say something, or maybe apologize, or perhaps you’d say something which would piss him off even more but before you could, his mouth was on yours. He kissed you with passion, but also pent up anger and frustration. He was conflicted, so were you. Both of your pride were hurt, egos bruised but your hearts still yearned for each other. Nothing could change that. 

Before you could process anything, Bucky was kissing down your body; you were a whimpering mess by the time he kissed along your inner thighs. He chuckled darkly when you let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently. Like he used to when he was madly in love with you. 

“Your body remembers me, babygirl.” He seemed proud of that. 

You hated how you couldn’t resist him. You hated how you didn’t even try to. You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds. His hand found yours and he laced his metal fingers with yours while his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look down at him, but you were sure he looked enticing with his plump, pink lips on your wet heat; your arousal dripping down his chin and coating his lips as he devoured you. You heard him growl before he bit down on the soft skin at your inner thighs to get your attention. 

“Look at me.” He mumbled. And when you didn’t obey him right away, you earned yourself a gentle smack on your thigh, which only made you squirm even more; causing you to accidentally grind against his mouth. He chuckled again. “Impatient, are we?” 

You supported yourself up on your elbows finally, and looked down at him. His handsome face in between your thighs was a sight you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. You could feel his warm breath fanning your wet skin occasionally as he stared into your eyes until you couldn’t handle the intensity of his stare. 

Bucky held your stare as he attached his lips to your core again, making you whimper in pleasure. He wasn’t planning on stopping until you beg him to. He had missed you, your taste. He had missed this; your warmth and your soft whimpers as he teased you with his tongue. 

“Do you wanna cum for me, babygirl?” He asked, before pressing his lips back against your wet folds. 

You nodded, quickly. “Yes, please…” your legs had begun shaking just a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit. But the way his lips lifted into a smirk gave away that his answer would only disappoint you. 

“No, you’re not allowed to cum.” He cooed, playfully. “Not so easily.” He whispered before he got back to teasing your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue; relishing your taste and humming in pleasure as he ate you out. He let out a little laugh, “I forgot how good you taste.” 

You moaned out loud as your back arched off the bed for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. You weren’t sure how long you could take this sweet torture. Your fingers tightened around his and he chuckled against your skin. 

“What is it baby, you can’t take it? Hmm? All that sass, all those mind games and now you can’t even handle my tongue?” 

He taunted you before getting back to teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. Your body tingled and you felt a sweet pressure forming in between your legs. You were sure he could see the tears of frustration escaping your eyes, falling down your warm cheeks. 

“Please…” you moaned pathetically. 

He licked around your clit one last time before pulling away and kissing his way up your body again. The twisted side of him loved the way you whined when you realized he wasn’t gonna let you cum so easily. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan and forget how to breathe with just one kiss. 

When he pulled away to look at you he smiled at the mess you were. Lips swollen, and bruised with how many times you or him bit down on it. Red marks all over your neck, bite marks along your inner thigh, and your arousal dripping out of you. He quickly placed his fingers where his mouth had been earlier, teasing your clit before shoving two fingers inside of you and stroking your walls so slowly that you were losing your mind. 

“Why won’t you admit it?” he kissed along your cheek and reached your ear where he whispered, “Are you that proud? That heartless?” Judging by his tone you could tell that his emotions were wavering as well. “I searched the whole world to find you.” His fingers sped up as he spoke, your moans got more frequent and holding them back became much more difficult. “And now you’re still gonna be a stubborn, disrespectful brat?” 

The bitterness in his tone woke something inside of you. Did he not realize that you’re not exactly pleased with what you had to do? Did he not understand? Pissed, your annoyance mirroring his, you pushed his hand away and pushed him down on the bed. He wasn’t expecting it so he went down rather easily. You got on top of him, straddling his waist, ignoring the nudity, and stared down at him. 

“Enough! You can’t just walk in here and do or say whatever the fuck you want.” Your sudden outburst took him by surprise. Part of him had always loved it when you got a little aggressive. “I’m not proud of what I did. That’s why I left, the guilt was killing me. It still kills me, every single day. I haven’t had the best year of my life since I left you either. I had to leave my homeland, my family, and I… I had to leave you.” 

He remained quiet. 

“I moved to a place where I knew no one. I’ve been alone for the past year, living amongst strangers, no friends, no family, nothing! All because I couldn’t let them get to me. You were right, because if my people found me they would somehow find a way to get the information they needed and they would’ve surely taken you down. You would’ve never seen it coming.” You sniffled, realizing that you were tearing up again. 

Bucky had, surprisingly, nothing to say. You went on. 

“You want answers? There you have it then. I couldn’t just stay and watch myself become that reason for your fall. I couldn’t let that happen to you, because I love you too much. When I realized I loved you, I panicked. I ran because I didn’t know what else to do, or how to keep them away from you. And I am so sorry for what I did. I understand if you-,”

He cut your long speech off by sitting up and grabbing you just in time before you lost your balance, pressing his lips to yours. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and let him hold you, kiss you like he wanted to for so long. His kiss was gentle this time, careful, loving. His metal hand ran up and down your spine slowly as his other hand grabbed you and pulled you close to him by your butt.  

He slowly pulled away and his heart felt like it tore in half at the sight of your teary face. He had been so busy being heartbroken after you left that he didn’t even take a minute to consider this perspective. He was too hurt to even think properly. 

“You could’ve just told me the truth. I would’ve handled them. I would’ve done anything for you, I… I would’ve done whatever it took to keep you safe. You know that, right?” Bucky finally spoke up, sounding much more emotional than he thought he ever could. 

Truth is, before meeting you he always thought that he was incapable of love. But then you walked into his life and everything changed for the better. So when he lost you, without any explanation, he went insane. 

You sighed. “I was scared. I didn’t understand, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was hurting too. You think disappearing out of your life and leaving you behind without saying a proper goodbye was easy?” Your voice cracked as you fought back a sob. “How many times do I have to-,” 

He cut you off. Once he saw the tears accumulating along your water line again. “Okay, okay shh. I just got you back, I don’t wanna fight.” He mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours. 

You sniffled, your heart skipping a beat as his body heat wrapped around you. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I missed you so much. I couldn’t risk reaching out to you to even apologize, I was so scared. I… I didn’t…,” your sentence ended in a whisper, you didn’t know how to articulate your thoughts too well. 

He tightened his arms around you. “It’s okay, baby. Everything is fine now, I found you.” 

You were quiet for a while, enjoying his calming touch and processing all that happened since you stepped inside your apartment tonight. “Are you mad at me?” you asked, seeking to find some sort of sense in all that just happened. 

He sighed, and kissed your forehead. “I was. When I woke up the next morning after you left, I was confused, hurt. Then you didn’t show up for a couple more days and I had my people look you up, and I was told that you were a spy.” His words made you feel uneasy and ashamed of your past. “I was broken, but I never knew what a heartbreak feels like so instead all I felt was anger. But despite all of it, all I wanted was to have you back. Then I found the organization you worked for, and I made sure to destroy it. Since then I’ve been looking for you like a madman.” 

He pulled away to look at you. You managed to look up into his eyes without tearing up again. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

He pulled you closer. “I’m sorry too.” 

“I love you.” 

Bucky smiled at you. “Say it again.” 

You reached up and cupped his face in your hands. “I love you. I love you so much and I’m sorry. For everything. I just… I just want you back, please.” 

He leaned in for a kiss, whispering against your lips, “I’m right here, babygirl.” He gently turned to the side and laid you back down on the bed. “I’ve got you now,” he mumbled, pulling away to take his suit jacket off, then his shirt. He tossed both somewhere on the floor and bent down to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, leisurely; taking his time on you as he unzipped his pants. 

“Buck…” you groaned as he teased you with the soft, feathery touch of his lips. He had been teasing you for so long now, you couldn’t take anymore. Your body felt burning hot again, you needed him. Bad. You needed him like you needed air. 

“Yes, baby?” He asked, kissing down your cleavage; pretending he doesn’t know that you were practically shaking in need. 

You whined, sliding your finger into his dark, soft hair. “I need you. Please, I need you. Now.” You spoke through gritted teeth by the end, tugging at the roots of his hair. 

He chuckled. “So aggressive.” He murmured, kissing up your neck until he reached your mouth. He noticed the way you had unintentionally, gradually parted your legs to accommodate him; your naked body squirming under him, your bare chest pressing up against his, your body heat mixing with his. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby…” he whispered as he lowered his underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard.

You were a whimpering mess by the time he aligned his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs further apart to give him more room. With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. You heard his ragged breaths as he seated himself completely inside you and waited, giving your body time to adjust to him. 

He could still make you tremble in pleasure just like the first time he touched you. Bucky held back his moans and growls as he felt your warmth wrap around him so perfectly. He clenched his jaw as he relished the feeling of being inside of you, finally. 

“Is this what you needed, babygirl?” he asked, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, causing you to look up at him. 

You couldn’t talk given how full you were. You just stared at him with parted lips, breathing heavily. Bucky smirked, pulling out just a little before pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back off the surface of the bed again. 

He smirked as he looked down at you. “You waited, didn’t you? You waited only for daddy to stretch you out like this. I know you didn’t let anyone touch you while I wasn’t here.” He remained still as he leaned into your ear, whispering, “The way you’re clenching around my cock right now gives it away.” He chuckled, proud. 

Your face burned. He knew you too well. 

Bucky leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. He sped up gradually, rocking his hips against yours; his hand reached up to grab your chin gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. 

He stretched you out deliciously, perfectly. Filling you up and reaching all the right places as he went. He couldn’t hold back any longer, so he moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his jaw or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He spoke as he sped up into you again. You could whine senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. 

He leaned down to push his face into your neck as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “Fuck…” he moaned as you clenched hard around him. He down for a moment just to hear you moan wantonly before he sped up again, fucking you relentlessly. “You’re mine. Only mine, you hear me?” 

You nodded, or at least tried to.  

The louder you got, the closer he felt his release coming and the filthier his mouth got. “Your little cunt is mine. Only mine.” He spoke through messy kisses; growling and causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. “Only I can fuck you like this, you hear me?” Bucky quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the modest room. 

Bucky was all you could focus on. The sound of his voice. His body pressing down on yours. His cock inside you. Your walls began to clench tighter around him. His moans, his hot breath against your cheek, his messy kisses. Just him. You had missed him so terribly, and only now did you wonder how in the world did you survive so long without him? 

He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt more tears escape your eyes. “Please, Buck…” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…” 

Your eyes were droopy in lust. His eyes were too as he stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Please what, babygirl?” 

His pretty blue eyes put you under a trance. “Please, can I cum?” 

Bucky caressed your cheek with his knuckles, his metal hand holding him up above you. He didn’t know how he managed to survive without you all these months. He was barely living without you. He looked down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. 

“Go on, baby. Cum for me.” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Bucky kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even as you came, and your face burned as you felt a familiar knot forming again right at your core.

He fucked into you relentlessly. “Fuck…” He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the bed. 

You felt your second release approaching even before you could recover from the first one. Your leg around his waist was numb but you still wanted more of what he had to give. You would take whatever he gave you in that moment, given you had gone so long without him. 

You felt your mind getting foggy again. His large frame hovering above you as he fucked deeper into you, just a little more. “Cum for me again, baby.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. Your body trembled as you came for the second time, walls tightening around his length, gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well.

You felt his thrust getting sloppy and irregular until he came to a stop and just groaned as he came violently. His warm cum filled you up and some of it trickled out of you when he carefully removed his cock from your entrance.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, catching his breath before pulling you into him. You were slightly shaking as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your skin wherever he could, murmuring sweet nothings. 

“You okay, babe?” he asked after a few minutes of just holding you in his arms, in silence; both of you just enjoying each other’s warmth and presence. 

You nodded, placing your arm over his chest and scooting closer to him, pressing up against his side. 

You both remained quiet for a while longer. Thinking about the past, and the future. 

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” You asked, your brain starting to overthink again. 

Bucky sighed. “Baby I couldn’t stay mad at you even if you intentionally stabbed me through the heart and watched me bleed to death.” 

You took a second to process what he just spoke of, and you made a face at him, showing your horror and concern, which then made him laugh out loud. “You’re sick.” You muttered, placing a gentle kiss to his metal arm. The cold metal against your lips reminded of somewhere you desperately wanted to be - home. 

He shrugged, pulling you closer. “Yeah. Also cruel, devious and pure evil. But you love me nonetheless.” He teased. 

You smiled, your worn out body snuggled up against him. You felt your eyelids drooping as sleep slowly took over you. Today has been a lot. “I do.” You spoke softly. 

Bucky looked down and saw that you were slowly drifting off to sleep. He adjusted the covers so that you were well covered with the warm blankets. He tucked you in and wrapped his arms around you protectively, as though you might slip away from his grasp again. 

“I love you, babygirl. Sleep tight, we’re going home soon.” 

You didn’t respond so he figured you must have fallen asleep. While he hugged your sleeping figure, he thought back on everything you said tonight. Your biggest fear was that you might end up being the reason for his fall. But little did you know that ultimately, you had been the only reason he knew what truly falling in love was like.

[randominagines]

Pairing: Avengers x neutral reader

Warning: Fluff, potentially smut

Gifs belong to their creators.

Part one here (Tony, Steve, Thor, Nat, Wanda, Scott, Bruce and Rhodey)

AVENGERS MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME:

VISION

Vision would be confused. He can't rationalise the fact that he can't stop looking at you. "Hi, you must be y/n." He sweetly says and you nod and shake his hand. "I am, and you are Vision, right?" You ask and he nods, his eyes stuck on you. You frown and touch your face. "Is everything all right?" You ask and he frowns while shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I sometimes forget that humans are uncomfortable when you stare at them for too long, it's just... I find you beautiful." He honestly says and you blush, a little smile curving your lips.

SAM

Sam definitely knows how to flirt. He would confidently introduce himself. "I'm Sam, it's great to finally meet you, Sarah always talks about you." He says and shakes your hand, you laugh and Sarah puffs. "Sam, don't flirt with my best friend." She jokes and you slightly blush while Sam chuckle. "I'll behave, but you look stunning." He compliments and you chuckle. "Don't behave." You say and Sarah opens her mouth while you and Sam both burst into a laugh, his eyes stuck on you.

PIETRO

Pietro would be so intrigued. He doesn't really trust Avengers, but you... there is something in you that attracts him. "Pietro Maximoff, you're the one who's fast." You say while staring at him, not sure if he's on your side or not. He chuckles. "Is this how people know me now? The one who's fast?" He jokes and you shrug. "I only see people as enemies or allies, which one are you?" You ask, keeping your guard up. He mischievously smiles. "Can you trust me?" He asks and you frown. "Onyl if you can trust me back." You say and he nods, not sure why he actually wants to trust you.

PETER

Peter would freak out. Not only you're such a cool Avenger, but you're also his crush since forever. So when he joins the squad, he can't wait to meet you. "Hi, you must be Peter! I saw the videos on YouTube, you're so cool, and those spider nets, absolutely genial!" You compliment him and he can't find the words, he just stares at you in total amazement. "Kid, say something!" Tony says and he finally snaps back to reality, shaking his head. "Uhm yeah sure I'm sorry I was thinking, I mean, I appreciate the compliments thank you, I'm your fan, I love your powers, those are so great, you are great and..." Tony tolls his eyes. "Say less." He says and Peter nods while shutting his mouth. You laugh and softly smile at him. "It's okay, and thank you so much. I love the idea of working with you." you say and he blushes, his heart pounding fast.

BUCKY

Bucky would totally make a mess. He struggles with the dams rooms in the facility and he ends up in yours half naked. "Oh shi... I'm sorry." He immediately apologises and you laugh. "It's okay, you must be Bucky. Steve told us about you, welcome in the squad." You welcome him and he nods, his blue eyes studying while he realizes how beautiful you are. "Uhm, thank you. I'm sorry I still mess up the rooms." He says again, as a true gentleman and you shake your head. "Want me to give you a proper tour? I used to mess up the rooms too." You admit and a tiny smile curvs his lips. "I'd be very grateful." He says and you nod, softly smiling at him.

LOKI

Loki would be stunned. He knew Thor had a Midgardian friend, but he didn't expect you to be so stunning. "Loki, finally! Thor literally talks about you all the time, it's a pleasure to finally associate a face to his stories." You say, softly smiling at him. He nods. "He actually talks about you too a lot, but he forgot to mention that you look absolutely beautiful." He compliments, his smile confident and mischievous. Thor shakes his head. "Can you not flirt with y/n?" He asks and Loki chuckles, his eyes still on you. "I won't make promises I can't keep." He says and you smile, your cheeks turning red. Thor puffs. "Loki, I..." he tries to say but you stop him. "It's okay, let him." You say and Loki smiles, knowing you like him too.

BONUS: STEPHEN

Stephen would be a flirty bitch. He heard a lot of things about you and your powers, but meeting you makes him realise that you also are stunning. "Doctor Strange, finally we meet." You say and reach your arm, he shakes your hand. "Y/n, I heard tales about your powers." He says and you smile. "I can say the same. We'll have time to work together and find it out." You say and he smirks, his eyes stuck into yours. "I sincerely hope we will." He says, his voice low while you smile at him and nod.

CLINT

Clint would even bother to hide that he finds you interesting. "Nat, you didn't tell me your friend was so funny." He teases Natasha and she chuckles. "I knew you were going to like y/n." She says and you laugh, shaking your head. "Guys, I'm still here. I find you funny too, by the way." You flirt with him and he smiles, looking at you in amusement. "Natasha have been hiding you for too long." He jokes and you shrug, looking at him straight in his eyes. "Well, I'm here now."

T'CHALLA

T'Challa would be love struck. He likes you since the second he lays his eyes on you. Natasha introduces you to him. "Your Highness, this is y/n, part of our squad, the Avengers." She says and T"Challa respectfully bows while you do the same. "It's an honour to meet you, Your Highness." You say but he softly smiles. "Please, call me T'Challa. You have a lovely name, y/n." He compliments and you slightly blush while looking at him. "Thank you, Your Hig... I mean, T'Challa." You correct yourself and he smiles, nodding while staring at you and thinking how beautiful you are.

[make-me-imagine]

Headcanons: The moments they realize they have feelings for you

- - Part Two Here - -

Pairings: Gender!Neutral Reader x Thor; Loki; Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes; Sam Wilson; Tony Stark; and Bruce Banner. 

Everything Tag: @criminaly-supernatural​ Marvel Tag: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @trashywritestrash​​, @groovyfluxie​​, @marvelouslyme96​​, @supersourlemon13​​, @mochamoff​​, @simsiddy​

Thor: 

You and Thor had become fast friends after you met, and he felt as though there was something underlying between you, but he never worried to much about it. But one day, you and the rest of the Avengers were on a mission. Thor heard gunfire nearby and made his way there to see what was happening. When he did, his eyes landed on you, fighting your enemies gracefully and very skillfully. This was the first time he really saw you fight and he could tell how strong you were. 

It took Tony flying past making the comment “Enjoying the view?” before he realized he had been staring for a long time. Taking one last look at you, he smiled and found it hard to look away before he continued to fight. After that he found himself always seeking you out to fight by your side or just to be around you. 

Loki: 

You and Loki had met briefly a few times before he officially changed roles from villainous enemy to annoying ally. He hadn’t really taken notice of you until you, he and Thor ended up in the same fight against an enemy. You were witty, intelligent and very strong. That was the moment he first took an interest in you. 

The moment he realized he had a crush on you though, was when he had unwillingly been dragged along by Thor for a visit, and he overheard Tony making flirty remarks to you. He thought for a moment that you two were a couple, and he was surprised by how jealous and disappointed he felt, not to mention annoyed. But when he realized that you were not together, the relief truly made him realize that he had feelings for you. After this, he become a bit more forward and flirty to you. 

Steve: 

Steve liked you since he met you, he thought you were smart, kind, and had a good sense of honor and loyalty. But he didn’t have a crush on you until the first time he fought side by side with you. It was a hard battle, you were both worn out, but you would not give up, you encouraged others and risked your life to save civilians. 

When the battle was finally over you stood side by side as you looked around the area both breathing heavily. “Well that was easier than I thought.” You’d state, and he’d look over at you like you were crazy. You met his eyes and smiled “I always assume things will be impossible.” He would smile in amusement at this; his heart now beating heavily as he watched you smile, knowing his feelings for you had grown to the point of no return. 

Bucky: 

You first encountered Bucky while he was still the Winter Soldier, along with Steve, Sam and Natasha. Later you met when you helped Steve during the accords. Bucky assumed you would still dislike or not trust Bucky, similar to Sam when they met again. But you surprised him by being kind and trusting him, fighting by his side. He had begun developing feelings for you during these times, but never really acknowledged them until later on. 

Later, after the battle with Thanos, Steve was gone and Bucky thought he was alone again. But there you were, checking on him, inviting him out to train, to eat, bringing him movies and music you thought he would enjoy. You were treating him as a friend, never pitying him. One day, when you showed up with a movie and food, it finally clicked in his mind, when his heart began pounding and he felt a familiar heat rise up his neck when he saw you smile at him, that he really did have genuine feelings for you.

Sam: 

It didn’t take long, or much for Sam to become smitten with you. He met you when he began working with Steve. Briefly before he was drug into the fight with Hydra, and then again when you joined their fight against Tony and the others. He thought you were witty, smart and very attractive. You were bad ass and could take care of yourself. But what really got him was how kind you were. You were caring and genuinely wanted to help people, often forgetting about you own needs to help others. 

These acts of daring kindness and selflessness was what really made him fall for you. He was disappointed when you parted ways, having to go on the run after Steve broke you all out. When you met up again to fight Thanos, his feelings for you came back full-force the second he saw you again. And he promised himself that he’d do something about it once this was all over. Unbeknownst to him, you made the same promise to yourself. 

Tony: 

Tony is flirty with many people almost subconsciously, so the flirty remarks towards you were common, but they didn’t have any real meaning behind them. At least not at first. But he seemed to only be making them to you after a while, not really caring about other people or how they thought of him. He would genuinely be excited to see you again, and would like to just talk with you, the flirting becoming occasional banter. 

The moment he realized he actually had feelings for you came when you were all at a party with the Avengers. He spotted you sitting with Natasha and Clint and another man he didn’t recognize. The way the man was acting towards you seemed to send a heat up Tony’s neck. He was jealous. One moment, you looked around and met Tony’s eyes. You smiled at him and he felt as though his heart would climb up his throat and jump out of his mouth. This realization came full-force, and he didn’t hesitate to go up to you to steal you away from the others. He wanted to make his feelings known before he lost the chance. 

Bruce: 

You were one of the first Avengers that Bruce met, when you were all brought together for the first time. He thought you were nice, and accommodating, but assumed you only acted this way because of what you knew he could become. 

He was taken by surprise at how you acted around him after you met the Hulk the first time. You didn’t change at all, you weren’t nervous, you didn’t get scared that he might lose control. After he asked you about this you blinked a couple times before explaining that you had easily gained The Hulks trust and somewhat befriended him. The Hulk could tell you weren’t afraid of him, and instead just wanted his help and to help him, so he did you no harm. This caught Bruce off guard and astounded him,. He found himself now bashful around you, and grew to have feelings for you fairly quickly after that. 

xx