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harryspet · 4 years

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our soulmate | b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes, soulmates au, poly, threesome, sex toys, vaginal/oral sex, fingering, pregnancy, light bondage, angst, love triangle

A/N:This was inspired by an idea I got in an ask! I really wanted to write a poly story and the setting of the diner is what started this all. This isn’t really a dark fic like I usually write but hopefully, you all still enjoy it because there’s lots of smut.

In which Steve and Bucky both find their soulmate at a local diner.

word count: 3.3k

You had two regulars.

Steve came when you worked the morning shift. You seemed to always be refilling his coffee mug and he’d give you the same warm smile every time that you did. He worked on his computer for that hour and every time you asked him about his work he would tell you it was “top secret”.

He tipped very well and there were often times you did not want to accept the excessive amount. Steve insisted. You had told him how you were putting yourself through school. You had big dreams for yourself and the diner was supposed to be temporary.

Supposed to be.

You’d been feeling stuck for the past few months and by the night time shift rolled around, you were counting the seconds until you could go home.

Bucky noticed your mood as you were to close up by yourself on most nights. He’d order himself pie and then insist you take a break and eat it with him. You didn’t care much for sweets until your midnight desserts with Bucky.

You had no idea your worlds would collide that one night.

The thought of you had been on Steve’s mind all night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you. There was no running from it now because he was sure his head might explode if he didn’t claim his mate right then.

In the middle of the night, he drove to that diner but he found you sitting beside his old friend, enjoying a piece of cake. You had just laughed at something Bucky said but your eyes widened as you saw Steve break through the locked door of the diner.

You stood up from the booth, “Steve, what’s going on?”

Steve’s eyes found you and relief spread through his body for a moment. Only a moment. He looked behind you to now see Bucky standing, “Buck?”

They knew each other?

You mentally cursed. How hadn’t you put the dots together? Bucky was the … Winter Soldier.

“Steve? What are you doing here?” The words were taken right out of your mouth. It seemed neither of them expected to see each other.

“For Y/N,” Steve started with little hesitation. His eyes narrowed at you and something in your heart twitched, “You’re supposed to be all the way across the country. Why are you here?”

You looked to Bucky as he spoke and you could tell something had shifted within him. As if he realized there was a storm coming, “I finished my mission a few weeks ago … now it seems I’m here for the same reason as you.”

“Wait, you’re both here for me?”

Were you in Twilight right now?

Steve took a step toward you, his eyes locked on Bucky’s, “I hate to disappoint you Buck, but Y/N is my mate,” Your heart stopped as the diner went dead silent. You looked at Steve with wide eyes, blinking.

This couldn’t be true. You didn’t feel a bond …

“Steve-”

“No, she’s my mate,” Bucky said, practically growling. They both took a confrontational step toward you but you raised a hand toward both of them.

You looked back and forth between them, “I don’t know what the hell is going on but … I-I can’t do whatever this is,” You could feel them tensing up, “I can’t have two soulmates. That’s impossible.”

“Apparently not,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temple.

“You could choose,” Bucky said quickly and you looked at him solemnly.

“Bucky,” Steve warned, “You can’t say that.”

“Fine, choose or don’t choose. I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

“We’ll respect whatever decision,” Steve emphasized.

Your mind was racing, “I need some air,” You were about to walk past Steve but his hands graze against yours. The electricity shot so fast up your arm that you thought it might go numb. You flinched away from his hand.

He wasn’t lying.

You looked back at Bucky who was thinking you were a second away from rejecting him. You walked over to him and he held out his non-metal arm. You grabbed his hand and felt those sparks. Like fire but warm and comforting.

Fate was truly a cruel mistress.

“Meeting today?”

Steve nodded, sipping at the coffee you’d just made for him. So many things have changed in the last month. You used to serve him his coffee at the diner but now you were sharing his kitchen. It was the day of the week where he was pretending to be completely happy and in the moment.

He gave you that warm smile but you could tell he was hurting. You walked around the counter to place a kiss on his cheek. He immediately pulled you into his lap so he could feel you for longer.

You pecked his lips, giggling as his beard tickled your skin.

You didn’t know you could love someone so fast. But with Steve everything felt natural and right. He spoke your love language and he was understanding. So understanding. After all, he gave up so much just so he could have you.

“A quick one?”

He set his coffee down on the kitchen table and you knew exactly what that meant. You kissed Steve again, this time it was messy and passionate. You maneuvered on the chair so that you were straddling his lap. He held your neck, his finger sliding into your hair, using it to hold you in place as he began to attack your neck with kisses.

You bit down on your lip to muffle the small whimpers threatening to leave your lips.

You were grinding against his lap and you could feel his growing member against your skin.

“Undo my belt,” He commanded you, letting go of your hair, and you were practically dripping at that point.

You reached down to undo his belt. You made sure to let one of the straps of your nightgown fall down, exposing one of your breasts. You moved slow, fumbling with the materials of the belt before it was open, “Take out my cock,” You mentally cursed.

You loved when he was demanding.

You started to undo the zipper on his slacks and his member was so hard that it was begging to get free. You hadn’t even touched him and he was already so read for you. You were gentle as you reached in to grab a hold of his member.

“Can I … please?” You begged and Steve nodded. You slid your panties to the side, positioning yourself to be impaled by him.

You were grinning and Steve had a wicked look on his face as you slowly slid onto him. He grabbed your waist as you moved up and down slowly, adjusting to him, “Fuck,” You accidentally let the curse word slip and you felt a slap on your bottom.

Steve held your waist tight, starting to force you up and down faster, “Like that. Just like that, baby girl.”

“Yes, yes,” You moaned, bouncing up and down, “Steve … ah, I love it when you’re inside me.”

And that was how you started your morning. When you finally shuddered and tightly squeezed him, milking out his orgasm, you realized you’d both be late today. You kissed Steve some more as you got out of his lap.

He hurriedly began to buckle his belt, “Did you pack?” Steve asked and you nodded.

You looked at the clock above the stovetop. You only had five minutes.

You kissed Steve again before hurrying up the stairs. You changed into some yoga pants and a comfortable t-shirt before grabbing the duffle bag that you had packed the night before.

The doorbell had already rung when you were hurrying back down the stairs and you heard Steve answer the door.

“You know, she never gets any work done when she’s with you,” Steve said to Bucky, his arms crossed as he stood in the doorway.

“I think you know why that is, Steve,” Bucky winked, only to get a rise out of Steve. Steve didn’t bite.

“I’m being serious. The classes she’s taking are important. You shouldn’t be going on random adventures every single night-”

“Steve,” You approached the door, your heart giddy at finally getting to see Bucky, “It’s okay, I’m a big girl. I’ll get my work done.”

You opened your arms to him and you embraced for the last time for the next week. Steve kissed your forehead, “See you next week, kid. I love you,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You kissed his cheek, “I love you too.”

Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat. Steve stepped aside and you ran to Bucky. He embraced you tightly, his face in the crook of your neck just taking in your scent. After a long hug, Bucky grabbed your bag, “Let’s get going, Honey has been whining ever since you left.”

You pouted, wishing you could’ve taken her back to Steve’s. You waved goodbye to Steve before walking to Bucky’s car.

You made it about two miles before Bucky had to pull over so you could make out without crashing.

Bucky was a little more … sadistic than Steve. You had both already come once but he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive bulb, unrelenting. You were handcuffed to the bed frame with absolutely no ability to run.

They dug into your skin so the more you struggled, the more they hurt, “Please, please,” You begged, “Please, Bucky!”

He muffled you with his lips, still keeping the vibe between your legs. You moaned against his lips as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your head tilted back, screaming in ecstasy, as Bucky watched closely.

He finally let up as you begged him to stop. Bucky kissed you again, his cold hand moving over your body.

“Had enough?” Bucky asked and you nodded quickly.

“Can you let me out?” You asked, shaking the metal against the bed frame, “Please?”

Bucky smirked, “I think my phone is ringing in the other room. Hold on.”

Your eyes widened as he got out of bed and headed to the door.

“James!”

His laughter roared through the apartment.

You felt sick the next morning so you stayed in bed with Bucky. Honey, Bucky’s two-year-old bulldog, was cuddled up between you guys as you watched something on TV.

You felt a little embarrassed being sick like this in front of him. Bucky rubbed your back as you laid your head in his lap. You’d never felt this kind of nausea, it frightened you, and you tried to hide it.

“Y/N, you’re incredibly tense,” Bucky noticed.

“I just don’t feel well,” You spoke, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you sat up.

As soon as your eyes met, you felt it. You covered your mouth as you felt the bile rushing up your throat.

In a second you were out of the bed and running to the restroom with Bucky hot on your trail. He held your hair back as you bent over the toilet and puked out your guts. Again, he was behind you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. You could sense his worry and also his confusion.

You didn’t think you had any bad food recently. It all just seemed so random.

Like a sixth sense had suddenly kicked in, Bucky knew what was happening, “Y/N, when was your last period?”

You flushed the toilet, trying to collect yourself. You shook your head in disbelief before leaving the toilet room and to go to the sink. Bucky followed after you as expected.

“Y/N?”

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you grabbed your toothbrush, “A few weeks ago, I don’t really remember.” You began brushing your teeth, just wanting the conversation to be over.

“I’m not trying to rush you-

You spit into the sink, “I’m just sick.” You stated, finishing your routine.

“Maybe to be sure we should go buy a test?”

You set down your toothbrush and braced your hands against the counter, “You don’t understand. I can’t get pregnant. That’ll just complicate everything!” You thought you might hyperventilate and that wasn’t making your nausea any better.

“It won’t, if it’s true then we’ll all figure something out,” Bucky came behind you, embracing you in a tight hug. You let your head rest against his chest.

“There’s always so much back and forth. You and Steven barely talk and when you do, you argue. If there’s a baby then … I don’t think this dynamic would work. It barely works for me. A baby’s mother shouldn’t be torn between two homes.”

Bucky thought for a long while and you were worried he might say something you didn't expect. And he did, but it surprised you in a good way, “We’ll all do it together, then. No back and forths. We settle down altogether-”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Bucky-” He only held you tighter.

“You love us both and we love you, why wouldn’t it work?”

“What if the baby isn’t biologically yours?” You saw him grin in the mirror.

“If Steve gets the first one then I call the next two,” You laughed at that, “Either way, we’ll all be a family.”

You told Bucky it wouldn’t be fair to take the test without Steve and each day, as you continued to miss your period, you knew Bucky’s suspicions could be true. A week later and a few more days of nausea, you were back home with Steve but Bucky hadn’t left this time. It was awkward at first, the initial greetings, but there was a lot less blood and fighting then you expected.

Steve even brought up an old memory you had no clue about and got Bucky to smile when he thought about it. Bucky rarely did that.

You finally came out of the downstairs bathroom, test in hand, and the two men immediately perked up from where they sat on the couch. They waited, the tension between all three of you even higher than when you first met.

You only nodded as you looked at them both, tears stinging your eyes.

Their eyes went wide at the same time.”This is amazing, Y/N,” Steve wrapped his arms around you first and then you hugged Bucky, “We’re going to have a little Steve.”

“Or a little Bucky.”

You could imagine the kind of terror a little Bucky would cause.

“Thank you guys,” You said, grabbing one of both of their hands.

“For knocking you up?” You nudge Bucky playfully.

You looked back from both of them and, as a thought crossed your mind, you bit down on your lip. You felt your cheeks heating up as you looked down, “I know what you’re thinking,” Bucky squeezed your hand, “Go ahead, you can kiss him first.”

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes before turning to Steve, “No, kiss him first. I insist.”

“No, I insist.”

They were just teasing you at this point so you rolled your eyes, turned a bit to Steve and he leaned down to kiss you. You expected a peck but Steve’s kiss was hungry as much as it was soft. As you finally pulled away to breathe, you saw a sinister look on Steve’s face, a look in his eyes you’d never seen.

“How about we see if you remember what I taught you all those years ago, Steve?” You gave Bucky a confused look but, you didn’t have time to react as he roughly pulled you into him.

“Bucky-” You gasped as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and threw you over his shoulder.

“You’d be surprised to see how much I know, Buck.”

Bucky slapped your ass before he began moving towards the stairs, “Bucky! Put me down!”

You lifted your head to see Steve following, “Steve?”

“We’re going to be a big, happy family, right? Might as well get comfortable with each other,” You scowled, realizing the monster you had created. You could deal with them separately but, both of their tormentings, you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it.

You at least expected Steve to be the rational one and he was failing at that too.

Bucky carried you up the stairs with ease and you knew exactly where he was heading. You stopped struggling, knowing your fate was inevitable. All of you entered the master bedroom and Bucky let you fall onto the bed with a thump.

You landed with a bounce and you scowled at them as you blew a piece of hair that fell into your face, “Rethinking your idea, sweetheart?” Steve teased you and you were about to say something snarky back when he grabbed you by your ankle.

He pulled you towards the edge of the bed, grabbing the waistband of your leggings before you could even react. Both of their eyes were hungry and you started to feel heat between your legs. Something in your eyes changed then.

You wanted them. Both of them.

As your leggings fell to the ground, you sat up on your knees, before pointedly looking beside you at Bucky, “You, take your pants off,” You saw the smirk on Bucky’s face as you turned your head back to Steve in front of you, “And you, kiss me.”

Steve held your face in his hands as he kissed you hard. Your hands held his biceps and then moved down to the hem of his shirt. You needed all your clothes to be gone and soon. Steve got the hint and soon he was lowering his hands to lift up his shirt. You did the same and you cursed the moment that you had to pull away from him.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky positioned himself behind you, your back pressed against his front as you went back to kissing Steve. Bucky held your waist, his metal hand holding you in place and his other trailing between the fabric of your panties and your skin.

“Won’t be needing these,” You heard Bucky say as they easily ripped off.

His hand sunk between your legs as he felt the wetness between your folds. Bucky couldn’t help but think that they should’ve done this months ago.

You were undoing Steve’s belt now and grinding against Bucky’s fingers as Steve’s hard cock finally sprung free. You were ready to devour it and as you opened your mouth, Bucky suddenly pulled you back further onto the bed. Two of his fingers sunk into you and you gasped, “Keep going, doll,” You looked back at Bucky who only smacked your bottom, “We both know what you can do with that mouth of yours.”

You grabbed a hold of the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip, “Magic,” Steve breathed out, brushing your hair out of your face. You knew he loved it when he could fully see your face, “That’s what she can do.”

Bucky’s fingers moved in and out of you so fast you were sure you might climax already. You moaned onto Steve’s member as you finally took it into your mouth.

Steve held your face, starting to force you down deeper, and you gagged. As you did, Bucky’s fingers seemed to move even faster. It wasn’t long before you were tightening around his fingers, “Cumming on my fingers with a cock in your mouth?” You could practically hear Bucky’s smirk.

“What a naughty little girl we have,” Steve grunted out, shoving his cock in and out of your mouth.

You felt Bucky at your entrance and you got no time to recover before he was sheathing himself inside of you.

As you adjusted to him, Bucky began to pound into you from behind as Steve took you from the front. You were overwhelmed in the best way possible. They knew your body and how to treat it in every single way.

Steve was so deep in your mouth when he finally finished that you were forced to swallow, “Good girl,” Steve praised you as he pulled from your mouth, Bucky grabbed one of your arms so he could pull you back further onto his cock. His warmth filled you as Steve placed soft kisses along your neck.

“That’s our good girl.”

Check out my masterlist for more of my works!

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark steve x reader #stucky #marvel #mcu smut #mcu #marvel smut #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #soulmates #soulmate au #au #steve rogers au #bucky barnes au #love triangle

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mermaidxatxheart · 4 years

Text

A Beautiful Lie

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: This one is rough, guys. Trauma, torture, blackmail, Bucky being dangerously charming. If torture isn’t for you, please don’t read.

Prompt: The truth is, I was only using you. (will be in bold)

Summary: You’re forced to do something terrible, something you would give your soul not to have to do.

A/N: Y’all, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything, almost all year. I’ve really been struggling to find the inspiration to write and I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me and followed me through this dry spell. Hopefully, I’m reaching the end of it. This is for @coffee-with-bucky‘s 2k writing challenge. I am beyond late, and I am so very sorry. Congratulations on your milestone, and I hope you reach many more.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, Bucky. It’s in the complete opposite direction of where you need to be.” You tell him as he dutifully walks you up the steps to your apartment building.

“Are you kidding? My mother would be rolling in her grave if I let my date walk home by herself. She raised me better than that.” He defends, raising a big hand to his chest. “And I’m right where I need to be, making sure my girl gets home safe.” He nudges your arm playfully. “Besides, I get to spend more time with you this way.”

“Those are all very good points.”

He pulls open the heavy door for you and you step inside. You’ve only been dating Bucky a couple of months, but so far, he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met. Old world charm without being a creepy serial killer; a gentleman without assuming you need to give him something in return.

It’s nice to be doted on just because.

He pushes the button for your floor and watches the numbers. You watch him. His long eyelashes, his perfectly sculpted profile, strong jaw, pouty lips. They twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the numbers. The creaking of the elevator stretches out the silence as it descends.

“You’re staring.” He points out.

“Am I? Oops.” You shrug, still looking at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” He sighs.

“Why does there have to be anything wrong? Maybe I’m just watching so you don’t disappear.” You turn to face him.

Slowly, he twists his head to look at you, a frown tugging at his mouth now. “Disappear? And where exactly would I go?”

“Wherever it is that perfect men go when the dream ends.” You lean against him with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m far from perfect.” He shakes his head and you capture his face in your hands, having to rise up on your tiptoes.

“You have been everything I could have ever wished for. You’re perfect for me.”

He dips forward to kiss you softly and the doors ding open. He wraps his big arms around you and lifts you up, carrying you into the small box. You yelp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. He grins and sets you back against the wall, leaning down to kiss you again.

He’s soft. So very soft and gentle with you. The cool metal of his left hand brushes down your cheek and his eyes search yours, the smile on his face growing with each passing second.

“What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

He laughs quietly. “You’re beautiful.” He shakes his head. “No, I was just thinking about something.” He says so casually.

“Care to share with the class, Barnes?” You tease.

“Well, I was just thinking that I love you.” He says, turning around to face the doors.

Your heart tumbles in your chest as you look at his shit eating grin. “You do?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect for me.” He shrugs and you smack his arm. He laughs, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls you against him and picks you up, kissing you hungrily. You rake your fingers through his hair, moving with him in perfect harmony.

The doors open on your floor and he carries you out and down the hallway, stopping just outside your door. He kisses down your neck and you tip your head back, breathing heavily. He presses you against the wall, finding all your sensitive spots. You let out a breathy moan and he pulls away with a small chuckle.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask as he sets you back down on wobbly legs.

“I think one milestone is enough for tonight.” He smiles, brushing your hair back behind your ears.

“Nope, not enough.” You shake your head. He has you in a state of frenzy now.

He grins. “Another time.” He promises. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He waits until you’re inside your apartment to leave. But that’s when you could have used him the most.

Hands grab you from behind, a strong arm curling around your waist and the other covering your mouth. You still scream, try to wriggle out of the strong hold they have on you. But it’s no good. A large figure clad in all black appears in front of you, arm raised and then everything goes black.

***

The aroma of delicious smelling food wafts through the entire building. It permeates into every room and causes several heads to poke out their doors. You smile sheepishly, knocking on Bucky’s door.

He pulls it open, sweat pants low on his hips as he towels his hair dry. “Y/N.” He says in surprise.

“I thought you might be hungry.” You hold up the bags of takeout. “But I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Did I hear there was extra food?” A voice says behind you and Bucky groans with a roll of his eyes.

“No one invited you, Wilson. Go away.”

“No, it’s okay, Bucky. Honestly, there’s so much-we can share.” You smile back at his friend.

Inside, your stomach is roiling with nerves.

It takes you a long time to wake up, your pulse pounds in your ears, giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the chemical they used to knock you out.

“Finally. We don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll get right to the point.” A man’s voice says roughly, grabbing your chin.

Your eyes flutter closed as you fight the effects of whatever they gave you.

“I hope you’re paying attention because I definitely don’t like to repeat myself.” He warns.

“But I don’t like to share.” Bucky protests.

“Great, it’s settled.” His friend grins, taking the bags from you and leading you away from Bucky. “I’m Sam. I’m sure he doesn’t mention me much. He wouldn’t want you to come to your senses and leave him for someone smarter, handsomer, superior in every way-really.” Sam smirks and you give a chuckle.

“You’ll have to let me know when someone like that arrives.” You return and he groans. Bucky laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“That’s my girl.”

More of the Avengers file into the kitchen and you back up out of the way. Unfortunately, you bump right into Tony Stark. He squints down at you suspiciously.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you back into the crowd.

“Oh, I was just moving out of the way.” You say awkwardly.

“Relax, kid. I’m messing with you.” He says easily. He opens a cabinet and turns to you. “Hands up.” He says and you hold your hands out automatically. He gets down a bunch of plates and sets them in your grasp. “Table. Go.” He turns you around and points to the large dining table.

You set out the plates while everyone brings the food over and it feels so surreal, sitting at a table surrounded by the most powerful humans on the planet and they’re just talking and laughing like one big family.

Bucky squeezes your hand as everyone starts helping themselves to food. Bowls get passed around and you only take small amounts of food, your nerves ratcheting high with every passing second.

“Not hungry?” Sam asks, looking at you.

“No, we had a big catering thing at work and I overate. I really just brought food as an excuse to see Bucky.” You shrug with a glance at the man next to you. He gives you a cheeky smile in reply, his perfect eyes crinkling in the corner, a genuine smile full of affection that you wish you could return.

“Well, you can use that excuse any time. Natasha grins, biting into an egg roll.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your water. They start asking you questions, what you do, where you’re from, how’d you meet Bucky.

They’re easy enough to answer and for a moment, you’re distracted. But then you remember your situation and you sit back from your plate. Bucky takes your hand under the table, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back.

Everyone eats until the food is gone, even tiny little Natasha Romanoff packs away the lo mein.

“You can stay for a movie, right?” Sam narrows his eyes at you.

“Depends. What movie is it?” You ask.

“Bucky’s never seen James Bond, so we’re starting with the first one.” Wanda says, pushing herself up and carrying her plate to the sink.

“I’ll stay.” You nod, standing and grabbing yours and Bucky’s plates.

“Just pile them in the sink, Y/N. They can wait.” Tony calls and everyone files into the living room, settling on the comfortable couches.

You slide down next to Bucky and he shifts you against his side comfortably. “I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I missed you, too.” You mumble.

“Long day?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm gently.

You nod, faking a yawn. “And I have to be up early tomorrow. Stupid budget meeting.” You roll your eyes as Tony starts the movie.

“You don’t have to stay long. I’m just glad you came.” He smiles.

Instead of replying, you rest your head on his shoulder. Wanda starts the movie and you don’t have to wait long. About ten minutes into the movie, Sam starts to snore, his head tilted back awkwardly against the headrest. They all fall like dominoes shortly after that.

Bucky’s fighting it, his eyes drop closed before flying open again. You look up at him, feeling each time he jerks himself awake.

“Bucky? You okay?” You whisper, heart breaking in your chest for him.

“Mhm.” He hums, rubbing his eyes.

“If you’re tired, it’s okay. You guys had a long mission.” You mumble, brushing his hair back gently.

“Feel like a jerk.” He manages and you kiss his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.”

His eyes drift close and his head drops back onto the love seat cushion. You grab a pillow and carefully lift his head to support it better. His eyes flutter again and you pause, watching him carefully. But they stay closed and you sigh in relief.

Easing yourself up and away from him, you grab another pillow and prop it under Sam’s head so that he doesn’t get a neck ache in the morning. Natasha and Wanda have shared the couch, laying at opposite ends, both soundly asleep. You pull the blanket off the back and drape it over them, tucking them in.

Tony is in an armchair, not much you can do for him there, but you cover him with a soft blanket, your stomach twisting into knots.

You wash the dishes quickly, getting rid of any evidence, placing them back in the cabinet. You gather up all the trash back into the delivery bag and set it on the counter.

Turning to Bucky, you wipe away at the tears that are collecting in your eyes. You really love this man. It hasn’t been long, but he’s treated you better than anyone else in your life. And if something could be both the hardest, and the easiest-it would be this.

You make your way back over, carefully sliding your hand into his pocket for his wallet. You find Tony’s lab card and make your way to the hallway.

“Your boyfriend is going on a mission tomorrow with the rest of the freaks. When he gets back, you’re going to show up, the loving girlfriend, with enough food for all of them.” The man in black instructs. He grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “This goes in the food. It’ll knock them all out so you won’t be disturbed. Even your super freak boyfriend can’t fight it.” He grins, holding up a vial of liquid.

“You’re crazy.” You snap, twisting your chin out of his tight grasp.

He sighs loudly. “I can see we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” He shakes his head and opens a laptop screen. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to use this option.” He turns the screen around and your eyes widen.

“No.” You gasp.

The building is so quiet, eerily silent with everyone being passed out in the living room. You’ve memorized the layout, you know which way you’re supposed to go. But your feet drag. You don’t want to do this. Every cell in your body is fighting against it, against betraying him.

The glass doors slide open noiselessly and you step inside. You almost wish one of them would catch you. It would be a relief to not be able to finish, but you know they won’t.

You find the right terminal and plug in the external hard drive. Tapping away at the keyboard, it doesn’t take you long to find the right file. You make a copy of it, doing what you can to ease your conscience before leaving.

You’re tempted to stop in and see Bucky, just to look at him one last time, as though that would stop your heart from breaking. But you don’t.

You can’t.

You leave the building in a hurry, anxious to be done with this whole thing. A part of you believes that you won’t be seeing the sunrise. But they aren’t kind enough for that. As you pass one, you toss the trash in a dumpster, further obliterating the evidence.

The coffee shop is unfamiliar to you. It’s far from your apartment, so the anonymity is a bonus.

You slide into a booth, tipping your cup right side up. The waitress comes over, filling the cup. “Can I get you anything?” She asks in a bored tone.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.” You answer automatically. You tongue is like cotton, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety. There’s no way you could eat, even if you wanted to.

You don’t have to wait long, your hands have barely started to warm from the cup when a big man eases into the seat across from you.

“You’ve done well.” He praises.

You can feel your face twist in disgust. A compliment from him is about to make you sick. “I’ve got your stupid thing. I’m free to go now?” You ask hotly.

“Sure. Not like we don’t know where to find you if we need you again.” He grins wickedly at you. A wolf looking at a sheep.

You set the flash drive on the table and launch yourself out of your seat, rushing for the door. You need to escape, get out of the city.

A stop at the ATM empties your bank account, and then you’re a whirlwind, throwing clothes into your suitcases. There’s only one thought in your head: escape.

Escape those awful men. Escape your betrayal. Escape the hurt you’ve just caused to Bucky, his wrath when he finds out. But you deserve those things, his hatred and anger. You could take that because you deserve it.

But those men, they’re only out to cause more pain, to make you cause pain. And you can’t put up with that.

You hail a cab, planning on never returning to your apartment again. You’ll become a shadow if you have to. Somehow.

Your chest aches, but you have to do it. You have to say goodbye.

Bucky

He paces the length of his quarters, listening to the ringing phone on the other end. You must be at work or something. He hangs up with a sigh.

He can’t believe they all passed out on you last night. What you must think of them.

“Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Stark would like to see you in his lab.” FRIDAY comes on the overhead.

“Sure. I’ll be right down.” He leaves his room and heads for the third floor entrance.

Stark is pacing, sharp pivots and staccato heel to toe steps. His face is turning various shades of red. He’s pissed.

“Tony?” Bucky starts.

“What do you think you were doing?” He asks instantly.

“I’m lost. What are you talking about?” Bucky frowns.

“Last night, you came into my lab and accessed the Dresden File.” He snaps.

“Last night? We were all together last night. I don’t even know what that file is.”

“Oh right. And I’m just supposed to believe that you also didn’t make a copy of it and take it out of this building?” He crosses his arms defensively.

“Tony, I haven’t left the grounds since we got home yesterday afternoon. And why would I take one of your stupid files anywhere?” Bucky fires back.

“Well, explain how your access card was used to get in here, then. Hmm?” He demands.

“I dunno, genius. Have you tried pulling up the surveillance cameras?”

“I... I was just waiting for them to download.” He huffs, turning his back on the former soldier.

Bucky rolls his eyes. He might not be caught up on everything modern, but he sure as shit knows that you don’t have to download security footage.

They both peer at the screen as you enter the lab. Bucky’s blood freezes in his veins as he watches you steal from Stark.

“What’s in the file that she took?” Bucky asks through clenched teeth.

“A weapon. Or at the very least, it can be used as a weapon if modified correctly.” Tony looks up at him. “If she sells it,” he trails off unnecessarily.

Bucky knows exactly what will happen. You better hope he can’t find you.

Bucky marches out of the lab and straight for the front door. He heads straight for you apartment, which isn’t smart; if you had any brains at all you wouldn’t be there. How can you do this to him? There has to be some kind of mistake, or misunderstanding.

You love him, you wouldn’t do this to him. Or maybe after 80 years in captivity, he’s forgotten how to read people. You were just a lie, a beautiful lie.

He pounds on your front door, nearly kicking it down but you don’t answer. He easily picks the lock, his anger and desperation warring inside him. He needs there to be some logic reason that you’ve done this.

Maybe it wasn’t really you. Maybe it’s like what Wanda does, an illusion. Someone making them think that it’s you.

The door swings open as his phone rings. He steps inside, answering it. “What, Stark?”

Your apartment is a mess. Chairs tipped over, dishes broken on the floor. The cushions on the couch have been tossed.

“She emptied her bank account late last night. She’s gone.”

“See if you can follow her on security cameras when she leaves the building. Find out where she went.” He says with a sigh.

How can a guy be so wrong?

***

The knock on your motel room door nearly sends you into a heart attack. You rise silently from the chair and creep to the door. If it’s those guys again, you don’t know how you’re going to get away. You’ve already refused maid service, no one knows you’re here.

You look out the peep hole and your heart somersaults in your chest. You should have been expecting this, you should have known he wouldn’t let it go. Doesn’t make what you’re about to do any easier.

You square your shoulders, take a deep breath. Its for his own good. You swing open the door, your face cold and detached. “What do you want?” You mutter.

“Are you kidding me?” He pushes his way into your room, taking in the dingy walls and ugly carpet. “Where is it?” He rounds on you, his handsome face contorted in pain. Maybe rage?

“Where is what?” You sigh.

He surges forward, grabbing your arms and shaking you. “Don’t play stupid. The flash drive, Y/N. I want it back.” He snaps.

“I don’t have it anymore.” You reply dully.

“Bullshit.”

“You think I’m gonna hold onto that? Got rid of it the first chance I got.” You snap back.

“And now you’re just hiding in a shit motel in Jersey? Of all places-fucking Jersey.” He rolls his eyes.

“First stop on my farewell tour.” You mutter. “If that’s all, I’d like my arms back now.”

He shoves you away from him and you bump into the wall with more force than you were expecting. “Just... tell me why. I thought...” he trails off and your resolve nearly breaks.

“I know what you thought. That’s what made it so easy. But the truth is, I was only using you.” You say, the words managing not to break.

His face crumples and he steps away from you. “None of it was real?”

“Sorry.” You say flatly, but inside you’re shredded.

He leaves mutely, climbing onto his motorcycle and you worry about him driving home. But you can’t break now. You shut the door, cutting off your view of him and you sink to the floor.

Tony

“Boss. Sergeant Barnes has returned.” FRIDAY announces over the lab speaker. “He’s headed for his quarters.”

“Is he alone?” Tony asks, his eyes drifting to the computer screen.

“Yes.”

“When he gets there, put me through.” Tony says, spinning in his chair. Barnes had one direction. Bring back the girl, or at the very least, the stolen property.

Should’ve known he’d let his emotions get in the way. He’s just like Rogers.

The screen to his left lights up and he can see Barnes tense in the entry way. He doesn’t wanna talk.

“Where is she, Barnes?” Tony asks, digging through the computer.

“I let her go.” He mutters blankly.

“I’m sorry? You let my thief go? You better have the files, then.” He retorts.

“She didn’t have them.” He sounds sick.

“So, now both are gone in the wind. That’s perfect. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to get the name of the terrorist group she sold it to!”

“Nope. Maybe this will teach you to stop making weapons.” The video clicks off and Tony shakes his fists, strangling the air, pretending unsatisfactorily that it was Bucky Barnes in his grasp.

“Dick. Prince Douche.” Tony mutters under his breath. “King Asshat.” He turns his favorite playlist on high, hoping to crush out his frustrations. The soothing tones of Black Sabbath pulses through the sound system and he gets to work, searching for whatever else Bucky’s girlfriend did to his system.

While he works, his thoughts wander.

You’re good. For someone who has never even been in this building before, you knew exactly where the lab was and what terminal to go to. You knew what you were looking for, almost like...

His Twizzler falls out of his mouth as a thought occurs to him.

Shit. He almost hopes he’s wrong.

He scrubs the rest of the files, finding just one anomaly. He backtracks the keystrokes and recreates it.

Finished, he sits back with a slump.

Oh. You’re very, very good. He bolts out of the lab and practically sprints to Bucky’s quarters, pounding on the door. Doubled over, gasping for breath-he pounds again.

“What?” Bucky snaps, yanking open his door, looking all kinds of disheveled. “Stark, do you even know what time it is?” He rubs his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. We have a problem.” Tony gasps, trying to catch his breath. He’s getting too old for this shit.

“Yeah, you need to cut back on the caffeine.” Barnes sighs.

“No. I think your super secret spy girlfriend was put up to this.”

“Tony, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Even if she’s in danger? Even if the people who did this to her come after her again?” Tony challenges.

“Stark, if she really was being put on, or blackmailed, or coerced-why wouldn’t she come to us? We’re a bunch of super freaks. We could have protected her. Think about it. She did this on her own.”

“Not necessarily. We don’t know what they blackmailed her with. Maybe she thought the threat was too much of a risk. Where is she?”

“Some piece of shit motel in Jersey. But she made it clear that she was only... that she did it on her own.” He clears his throat.

“Let me guess, while you were looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes? Yeah, no wonder she made you leave.” Tony changes direction. “Get dressed. We’re taking a trip.” He heads for Wilson’s quarters, knowing he’ll need the big bird brain as backup.

An hour later they pull up outside the motel just as you leave your room. It’s still dark outside, you should be sleeping, not leaving in the middle of the night. But here you are, bags in hand as you load them into a rental. You glance around nervously as you climb in.

“What’s she doing?” Sam leans forward, squinting.

“Looks like Barnes spooked her. If this pea brain can find her here, anyone can.” Tony reasons.

Bucky punches him in the arm, but doesn’t disagree. Tony tries not to let it show just how much it hurts.

“What do we do when we actually get her?” Sam asks.

“Get her to tell us who she gave it to. Then take them out.” Tony says simply.

“You never really said what makes you think she was blackmailed.” Bucky sighs, shifting in his seat.

“I found the file she copied. She made a copy of it on the computer first, then she removed key components. Things you have to have to make it work. Without them, these guys have scraps of paper-not enough to complete one for themselves. She transferred that second copy and that alone to the flash drive. She did everything she could to make sure they didn’t get what they wanted.” Tony half smiles. He should hire you.

“How do you know she didn’t write it down? Just to throw us off.” Barnes huffs as Tony follows you out of the parking lot.

“Cameras, Barnes. She didn’t. She deleted key sections. If she had just deleted a line or a random number, they could have figured it out with a mild genius. But she deleted pages. They have no way of knowing what was on those pages. She deleted half the design, code instructions, equations-huge chunks of vitally important information. It’s useless to them now. But I’d certainly feel better knowing who they are in case they try again.”

They follow you from a distance, confused as you leave New Jersey going south. You should have been going back to the city, not away from it.

***

It’s hard. Hard to remember that you need to drive the speed limit, hard to forget Bucky’s face as you lied to him. That look will haunt you until you die. Maybe one day you’ll have a chance to tell him the truth.

Maybe it won’t matter if you do.

Your eyes itch. It’s been a long three days. But you can’t close them yet. No rest for the wicked.

You pull into another gas station, heading inside. Cash only, and you could use about five more Red Bull’s. You grab a variety of energy drinks; Monsters, Red Bull’s, Jolts, Nos. The guy behind the counter stares at you as he rings you up.

“Too much of these ain’t good for ya, sweetheart. Make your heart give out.” He says conversationally.

“That’s the plan. Gimme thirty on pump four.” You add, sliding the cash over.

He hands you your bag and you pop the top on one of the heart attacks in a can as you start the pump. You chug half the drink while your tank fills. You climb back in the safety of your car, slapping your face roughly.

Flipping the visor down, you glare at your haggard reflection. “Wake up. You have a fucking job to do.” You point your finger.

You turn your music back on, blasting it loud enough to rattle the windows and you pull out of the lot, heading back for the highway.

Christ, your eyes itch. They feel like sand is in them every time you blink. You can’t stop, can’t slow down. You might already be too late-no. You can’t think like that. Bucky can’t lose anyone else.

It’s dark by the time you finally pull into the nursing home lot. You pull into a spot near the door, taking a moment to check your appearance.

Death warmed up. Perfect. You smooth out your hair before giving up. After two days of solid travel, there was no fixing this. You twist slowly in your seat, looking at every car in the lot, searching for people in them, something to hint at being watched.

Nothing, empty. You climb out and head inside the quiet lobby.

It’s almost empty, the desk clerk and one other person, sitting nervously off to the side.

“Chuck?” You ask, turning toward him.

He looks up and nods. “Y/N?”

You take a brief second to think about all the faces you’ve seen, but he wasn’t one. And looking closer, you can see Bucky’s eyes, the statuesque angle of his nose.

Yes, this is who you’re looking for.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I know this is strange.” You sigh, stepping forward.

“You said something about danger.”

“I would feel better if we could speak in your grandmother’s room. It’s a little more private.” You say pointedly.

“Right.”

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look exhausted.” Chuck comments.

“I’ll be alright.” You wave him off as the doors open.

“I’m surprised you know who this is.” The man chuckles. “Barnes’ sister. She lives in a home in Savannah. Abandoned by her family, left unprotected. So easily eliminated. She sits in front of this window day and night, reading. One well placed bullet if you don’t do what we say, well, it’s goodnight, Vienna.” He grins wickedly. “You don’t want this old lady’s death on your conscience, do you?”

“You’re a monster.” You curse, spitting at his feet. The men around him laugh.

“Maybe you have no feelings about dear old Becky. That’s alright, there’s always plan B, or is it part 2? Who’s to say we won’t kill both of them?” He changes the picture and your eyes fill with tears.

No.

“I can see we have a deal.” He smirks, caressing your cheek.

Chuck pushes open the door and enters comfortably. You slide against the wall, keeping clear of the windows.

“Charles?” Rebecca looks up, a beautiful smile crossing her face for her grandson.

“Hey, nana. How are you feeling?” He asks, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“Ready to run a marathon.” She grins. “Visiting hours are over, sweetheart. What are you doing here so late?”

“Nana, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of Uncle James’. She thinks you might be in danger.” He says, gesturing to you.

“Danger? From who? Surely you don’t think my brother-“

“No, ma’am. Your brother doesn’t know I’m here.” You say. “He’s, well, he doesn’t really know about this. I couldn’t tell him before I left.” You wrinkle your forehead in hopeless frustration.

How to explain this?

“Charles, give me a minute with her.” Rebecca says, shooing him out the door.

“Alright, I’ll be outside.” He smiles fondly at her before leaving.

“Have a seat, dear.” She gestures to the bed, but you avoid crossing the window, instead sitting at the small table. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.” She urges, taking your hand.

“I’ve done something terrible. Your brother trusted me and I had to betray it. There were these men, they wanted something from your brother’s job and they forced me to get it. If I didn’t, they would have killed you, and someone else. I couldn’t do that to Bucky, not when he just got you back.”

“And why are you here now?” She asks.

“To warn you. To make sure you’re protected. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. He loves you too much and he has so little good in his life. And after what I did... he’s going to need you.” You say, a thick lump of emotions choking your throat.

You know Bucky is lost to you. But she doesn’t have to be lost to him. “If I can give him this, it will make it a little easier to bear.”

She studies your face for a long minute in silence. “You love him.” She states finally.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I had to ruin it, to make him hate me. For his own protection. Now they can’t use me again.”

She’s quiet again, thoughtful. “Alright. What do you need me to do?” She asks, leaning forward in her chair.

“Go with your family. Stay safe. Call Bucky and tell him you think people have been watching you, you’ve seen suspicious men around the building. He’ll come keep you safe.” Your voice cracks and a tear slips down your cheek.

“And if he doesn’t? I’m an old woman. I’ve lived my life.” She raises her chin a fraction of an inch.

“A life without your brother. Now you have a chance to share memories with him. To help him heal from all that time and trauma. You’re his family Rebecca. He talks about you all the time, shares stories about your family-his family. He’s so happy knowing he can just talk to you whenever. He thought that would never be possible. His whole face lights up when he mentions you. He’ll be there. He’ll protect you, I know it like I know my own name.” You promise. “Please? Stay safe for him?”

She squeezes your hand, surprisingly strong for a woman in her nineties. “I promise, darling. What about this other person you mentioned?”

“I’m going to him next. But I had to make sure you were safe first.”

“I hope you can fix things with my brother. He’s lucky to have someone so strong.”

“Hardly. I don’t think it’s possible to fix this. Thank you for listening. It’s an honor to meet you.” You stand up and press a soft kiss to her weathered cheek. “I’ll send Charles back in.” You head for the door, opening it gently.

“She agree?” He asks.

You nod with a sigh. “Thanks for listening and not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Good luck. There’s a motel down the road if you wanna catch some sleep.” He says and you shake your head.

“Thanks. But I gotta keep moving. I have another appointment to keep.”

He bends down and kisses your cheek, surprising you. “Be safe. Thanks for looking out for us.”

You squeeze his hand and turn away. At least they can be safe.

The window is rolled down as you pull back onto the highway. It feels good on your face and you crank the music to help you stay awake.

Savannah isn’t that far from FSU, your next destination. Just a couple more hours. You can do it.

You pop the top on your last Red Bull and chug half of it, hoping it’s enough.

The sunlight creeps over the horizon just as you reach the outer most limits of Tallahassee. You’ll reach campus just in time for classes.

You feel a sense of calm, despite your new energy drink addiction-the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight, so to speak.

You find the campus easily, pulling through to the main building. Christ, you hope you can catch him in time. As you reach to unbuckle your seatbelt, you spot him.

That beautiful, annoying boy that you’ll never complain about again.

“Your brother, he’s in his final year at Florida State University, isn’t he? Captain of the football team, maintaining a perfect 4.0 gpa. I believe his favorite teacher is Mrs. Yaira Morrison. She teaches his history class at one o’clock on Tuesday and Thursday.” The man says with a twisted smile.

Your chest heaves, watching your baby brother on the screen. They have you and they know it.

“What do you want me to do?” You mutter, wishing Death by a Thousand Cuts on him and his party of villains.

“See? I knew we could count on her!” He claps his hands enthusiastically.

You lurch out of your car, legs wobbly from lack of sleep, proper food, and being immobile for too long. You rush towards him, shouting his name. He’s too far away to hear you, but you know you can catch him, you have to warn him.

A body steps in front of you, blocking your way between the cars. You move to step around them, thinking for half a second that it’s just a student getting out of their vehicle. They block you again and you take a second look, recognizing his face in horror.

“Don’t make me chase you.” He warns, but you’re already taking off between the cars, trying to find a way back to yours.

But no, that wouldn’t be safe either. They had to have followed you here. Before you can think further on it, arms grab you from behind and your head is bashed against the hood of a truck, everything going black.

Bucky

There is absolutely nothing worse than listening to two grown men bicker like school boys.

“I can’t believe you lost her.” Sam snaps at Tony.

“Me? You were supposed to be watching her car! I was focusing on not dying in Florida traffic. How do people live this way?”

“I told you not to take 75.” Sam retorts. Bucky can almost recite this argument word for word now.

“Don’t take 75? She took 75! What was I supposed to do? Take a different highway and hope we end up in the same place?”

“Or don’t drive like a damn grandma! I see why Happy drives you everywhere.” Sam shoots back and Tony’s face gets beet red.

“Take it back.” He demands.

“No.” Sam crosses his arms.

“Take. It. Back.”

“Make me, grandma.”

“Take this exit, Stark.” Bucky mutters. That puts a brief pause to their squabbling. You’ve had them driving for days on end and they’re all exhausted. How you haven’t passed out yet is a miracle.

“Why?”

“Because I know where she’s going and if you drive the actual speed limit, we can make it there before tomorrow.” Bucky fires and Tony glares at him.

“Where’s she going?” Sam asks, leaning back in his seat, thrilled that someone else was taking shots at Tony, too.

“FSU. Her brother goes there. If she’s being blackmailed, chances are it’s with his life.” He sighs. He wishes, not for the first time, that you had just confided in him. He would have found a way to make your brother safe, to make you safe.

His phone rings in his pocket and he pulls it out to see his sister’s picture smiling up at him. His heart tugs fondly at the photo. “Becky?” He starts. Something’s wrong. He sensed it when he realized you drove directly past his sister’s assisted living building. That was no coincidence.

“Bucky, I met a friend of yours last night. Lovely girl.” She starts off casually, no sense of concern in her weathered voice.

“Y/N? You met her?” He asks with a frown. Why would you have gone to see his sister?

“I did. She came to warn me about this danger that I seem to be in.” He’s alert in his seat now, all sense of weariness gone.

“Danger? Rebecca! Why didn’t you call me immediately?” He demands.

“Well, because I’ve thought about it, and I’ll do what she says-go on a trip with my kids. But I won’t do the second bit.” She says stubbornly and he presses his metal fingers to his forehead.

“What second bit?” He sighs.

“She said that I should tell you I’m being followed, that I’m in danger so that you’ll come here. But,”

“I will!” He insists.

“But I think she’s in more danger than I am. She mentioned someone else was being threatened, someone she cares about.”

“Her brother. We’re already aware.”

“Oh, good. Then, you’re also aware that she loves you?” Rebecca says and he can just picture her squinting at him suspiciously, like she might hit him with her slipper if he gets the answer wrong. Just like his ma used to.

“Not according to her.”

“Ah, my brother, the idiot.” She sighs wistfully and he cracks a small smile.

“What else did she tell you?” He asks.

“That she wanted to keep me safe and protected for you. She didn’t want you to lose anyone else. That she had to make you hate her for your own protection. And she doesn’t think she’ll be able to fix things with you.” She’s quiet for a minute. “But if the circumstances were different, Bucky. If she did what she did out of fear, out of loyalty and wanting to protect a complete stranger just to make one man happy-doesn’t that change things, big brother? She’s not entirely lost to you.” She finishes and he can’t force the lump in his throat to move enough to choke out words. “Just, just think about it, alright? I promised her I would keep myself safe for you. Now I need you to promise to keep her safe.”

He clears his throat roughly. “Promise.”

“Call me when it’s done.” She says. “I love you.” She hangs up and Bucky drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks from the back seat.

“They threatened my sister, too. That’s why we were right there last night. Y/N went to go see Rebecca, to warn her. You were right, Stark.” He sighs dejectedly.

He thought he was better at reading people. But you lied so easily to him and he fell for it. How had he missed every micro expression telling him that something wasn’t right?

“So, we really need to find her, then.” Tony says, stepping on the gas.

“Finally.” Sam mutters under his breath.

The campus is huge. They circle and circle and circle, looking for your car. Twice, they think they spot it, but checking it out further reveals no luggage in the back.

“Maybe we missed her? Maybe she got to him and left already?” Sam suggests.

“Wait, is that it?” Tony points to one of the back rows of cars.

“Didn’t we pass that one already?” Sam asks, confused.

“Only one way to find out.” Bucky grumbles, already launching himself out of the car. His heart thuds to a stop when he sees your luggage in the back seat, empty energy drink cans littering the floor. He waves them over.

“This it?” Tony asks.

“Yeah, pull up that fancy camera hacking thing and follow her. See if she’s inside the school so we don’t have to spend hours walking around looking for her.” Bucky says.

Tony pulls out his tablet, sets it on the dark hood of the car and types a few command strokes. Bucky hovers over his shoulder, breathing down his neck, really irritating the older man.

“Back off, man.” Tony elbows his ribs uselessly as the cameras rewind. He might as well have hit a brick for all the pain it causes him. There are several different angles across the massive parking lots and the interior courtyards. Plus the interior hallways and classrooms. There’s almost too much to watch, but they have to.

Tony finds your car pulling in and he slows down to watch where you park. It’s a tense silence as they watch you get out, heading across the lot before someone cuts you off. He blocks out the rest of the screens, making this one camera the focus.

Bucky’s stomach seems to fill with lead as you take off running, despite how exhausted you must feel. The man chases you, but Bucky can see what you can’t. You’re not running away, you’re being herded. Another man, massive compared to you, grabs you from behind-a blitz attack-and he smashes your head into the hood of another car. It’s hard enough of a hit to leave a dent in the car.

It’s an extremely good thing that Bucky isn’t holding onto anything, or he would have broken it.

Before he can even speak, Tony is already working. A car pulls up and you’re loaded inside. Tony captures the license plate and dismisses the camera, opting for another program.

Bucky paces behind his friends, knowing anything he would say isn’t going to be helpful. His mind is racing, faster than he can even process what exactly he’s thinking.

You should have come to him. You should have trusted him. How can you love him and not trust him? Of all the things he wants to say to you, this thought burns hardest in his throat.

What were you thinking?

“What do you think they want with her?” Sam frowns, glancing at both of them.

“Revenge.” Bucky mutters, his skin turning cold at the thought of you being hurt by their hands.

“The file.” Tony offers as an alternative. “Maybe they think she has another copy of it, or access to it again. Might buy her some time.” He glanced at Bucky, but he hardly hears him.

“Where is she, Stark?” Bucky asks tersely.

“Cameras are following their car, and I’m running facial recognition.” Tony says, but it doesn’t really soothe Bucky.

“Here. Get in. We can follow the map they’re making and maybe meet them there.” Sam suggests, taking the keys.

Tony climbs in the front seat where Bucky had been, Sam drives and Bucky sits in the back, his nerves ratcheting higher with every passing second that he’s not smashing their faces in.

“Got them.” Tony comments, typing furiously on his keyboard. The constant clicking is begging to grate on Bucky’s last nerve.

Sam follows the route highlighted on the dash screen, and at least he’s driving like a human. You’ve been in their grasp too long and it’s making Bucky irrationally anxious to not be able to see you. It’s strange that just ten hours ago, he never wanted to see you again. Now he can’t wait to get you back in his hands.

“There’s an old camera system in the building that they took her to. It’s half an hour away and they have a bit of a head start. I’m back hacking it now.” Tony says.

“You know no one says that anymore, right? No one calls it hacking. And back hacking is hacking someone that already hacked you.” Sam squints at him suspiciously. “Do you even know what a computer is?” He asks, swerving around a car going much too slow in the zoom-zoom lane.

“Better than you do, Bird Brain.” Tony snaps. “Got it.” The display changes and Bucky stares in horror. Sam inches the needle towards 100.

***

The thud pulses in your ears as the buzzing sting spreads slowly across your cheek. Another thud, more stinging as the blood surges to the surface of your face. The restraints around your wrists pull roughly as you’re shifted in the metal chair.

You don’t make a sound, happy to take this punishment. You deserve this for hurting Bucky, and if they’re this mad-they couldn’t recover the missing parts of the file. Even better.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader sighs, pacing behind his man. His fingers are steepled against the bridge of his nose as he sighs loudly. “I was told that Stark had a fully functional, working blueprint. What you gave me is useless.”

His brute swings his open hand again, the force of his slap twisting your head to the side. Your eyes water and your cheek heats up to the point of burning. The man grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head back to face forward with a low chuckle. Your face feels heavy, sluggish as the excess blood rushes there.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader demands. You remain silent, willing to take the pain. Nothing can be worse than the feeling of being forced to betray Bucky. He sighs loudly, nodding to someone off to your left. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go back to Stark’s lab. You’re gonna get the full file. You’re gonna promptly deliver it back to me.”

“No.” You say simply.

“No? That’s funny. It sounds like you think you have a choice.” He tilts his head and another man steps forward. This new man, half hidden in shadows, takes a drag off a cigarette, the burning end flaring bright burnt orange in the darkness. With an exhale of smoke, the shadow man presses the cigarette to the fleshy underside of your forearm.

You grit back a scream, but as he twists it in the raw wound, it’s too much and the sound rips from your throat.

“We’ll give you some time to reconsider your choice.” The leader sneers, nodded to the others. They exit, leaving you alone with the shadow man.

He lights the cigarette again, the smell of your flesh burning floats around you, making you sick. He doesn’t ask you any questions, doesn’t talk to you. He just puts out the cigarette on your skin, any exposed spot he can find.

He braces his hands on your burned forearms, squeezing tightly. You scream again, the tears falling freely. You can admit it hurts, but you still won’t give them what they want.

You can’t.

He chuckles, blowing the smoke in your face as the bright ember flares just inches from your face. Slowly, he removes the cigarette trapped between his lips and floats his hand around, trying to decide where to burn you next.

“Ah.” He smiles softly, brushing hair back from your neck carefully, almost tenderly. You try to contain the whimper, but fail miserably. He pulls down the neck of your shirt, exposing your collarbone before pushing the burning point to the flesh just below.

You scream, thrashing against your restraints. You sob, trying to breathe against it. Doesn’t matter what they do to you, you won’t do what they want.

The door opens behind him and another man steps through. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t know how people can be cannibals. The smell is awful.” He laughs, clapping your torturer on the shoulder. “Brought you some more tools.” He places more cigarette cartons in the man’s hand. You whimper involuntarily and he grins, looking down at you.

“Ready to make a deal, sweetheart?” He asks lightly. You spit your answer at his feet. “Perfect. I love when they scream.” He shifts your shirt, his eyes turning thoughtful. “Well, she needs to be symmetrical. Every work of art is symmetrical, and you, my friend, are nothing if not an artist.” He smirks, stepping back.

The shadow man lights up again, taking a couple puffs before pressing it to your skin again, this time under your opposite collarbone.

Another scream tears through your lips as you fight against him with his rough hands and disgusting pleasure at your pain.

“Oh, one last one before we call the boss in, huh?” The newcomer suggests, pulling a cigar case out of his pocket. “It’s Cuban.” He teases, holding it out like an offering.

The shadow man takes it with a crooked grin and snips the end, smelling it appreciatively. He lights the end and takes a big drag off it. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest. This one is so much bigger than the others, a nickel compared to a pencil eraser.

He bites the end between his teeth and motions to his friend for a pair of scissors. His friend pulls out a pocket knife and the fear spikes through you for real this time. You thought they just wanted to torture you into compliance, but if they were planning something worse, you couldn’t fight against them killing you.

He bends over in front of you, ashes falling on your thighs. He taps the sharp blade against your right thigh, and then your left, as though unable to decide. He taps your right palm, his eyes widening in mock fear. Then he taps your left palm, nicking the heel of your hand. Then he drags the tip lightly up your arm, inside your elbow, up to your shoulder.

The blade is next to your thudding pulse and all it would take it just one quick flick and you’d be dead.

But instead, he drags the tip along your collarbone and down along your sternum. One thrust and it would puncture your heart. Lights out. No more Y/N. You would never be able to tell Bucky how sorry you are, or how much you love him.

But you saved his sister. You can rest in peace with that knowledge.

You close your eyes, fixing Bucky’s beautiful face in front of you so he’s the last thing you see.

The tip of the blade presses into your sternum, breaking through the fabric of your shirt. But instead of going further, he holds that delicate balance.

And then he slides the blade up, slicing through your shirt like a hot knife through butter. He yanks when it gets to the seam at the collar, clipping your chin with the end of it.

You yelp in surprise at not being dead and blood drips from your chin. He puffs a few more times on the cigar before spreading your ripped shirt and pressing between the valley of your breasts.

You scream through a sob as he burns you, holding the extinguished cigar in your wound. The door opens and the leader steps through, wiping his hands dry.

“How’s our guest? Ready to reconsider?” He asks pleasantly.

Rage makes you spiteful. You can’t wait to throw anything you can in his face.

“Doesn’t matter what I say. You blew your shot.” You laugh, slightly hysterical. “Barnes knows what I did. I’m never getting near that building again. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not for you, not for the next scumbag, or the next one. You might as well just kill me. I should have told you that from the beginning.” You slump back in your seat, shivering slightly at the clammy sweat that’s broken out across your skin from the torture.

Oh, how you wish you’d been strong enough to tell him to fuck off from the start. You might be a day late and a dollar short, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do the right thing this time.

Bucky will know about his sister by now, she’ll be safe and protected, him by her side where he should be.

Your brother... your eyes fill reluctantly with tears as you think about your younger brother, just starting his life. He’s smart, hopefully smart enough to stay away from this mess, no matter what happens to you now.

“There are plenty of other people to do your job.” He snarls, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a large silver gun, a revolver as far as you can tell. “See this?” He asks, pointing the barrel right between your eyes. You can feel the cold from the metal, just centimeters from your skin.

“Hard not to.” You manage.

“It’s my favorite. Smith and Wesson’s 460XVR 45 Colt. Gonna leave a hole the size of a potato in the back of your head from this distance.” He hefts the gun experimentally and you try not to flinch, his finger too close to the trigger for comfort. He turns to look at his men. “Feels a little unsportsmanlike to shoot a girl like this, doesn’t it?”

“A bit, boss.”

He turns back to me. “So, let’s play a game. I’m sure you’re familiar.” He releases the cylinder and dumps out the bullets. Your stomach flip flops uncomfortably.

He’s gonna drag this out as long as possible. It’s still part of the torture. He holds up one bullet and slides it in, snapping the cylinder shut as he spins it.

“How about it? Feel like getting my file now?” He asks, leveling the gun back at your forehead.

You close your eyes, picturing Bucky’s face. The way he kissed you before everything went to shit, the smile he’d save just for you.

The hammer clicks, but nothing happens. Empty. Tears slip out, stinging the cuts on your cheek, and you have another moment to remember how much you love Bucky Barnes. His beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lopsided smile, his laugh.

“How about now?” The cruel voice demands.

You murmur Bucky’s name. A quiet prayer, something beautiful and bright among the darkness surrounding you. You can almost feel his soft hair under your fingertips as he kissed you against your front door that last night. The night he told you he loved you.

Click.

Another moment spared. The man chuckles, gripping your chin tightly and your entire face throbs in pain. “Your luck is running out, little girl. Make your choice.” He snarls.

“I have. You lose.” You sigh, eyes still closed. “Bucky, I love you.” You barely whisper, lips moving just a fraction. You don’t say it for anyone else, just yourself.

Bucky will never know. You’ll die here, with him thinking you were a cold hearted bitch. And that’s okay, because you were able to give him his family back. And you can live with that. So to speak. He might never even know you’re dead. Just that you left.

And that’s okay, too. Better really for him to move on.

The cold muzzle and front sight press roughly against your forehead, tearing at the skin there.

“I don’t lose.” He growls.

There’s a loud banging noise, making you jump. The gun disappears from your face and it takes you a long second to realize you’re not dead. And then to realize there’s a violent fight progressing in front of you.

Slowly you open your eyes to see three familiar men fighting your three torturers. Sam is fighting the shadow man, Tony-his companion. Bucky is fighting the leader, with the gun.

Bucky’s metal hand is holding onto the wrist with the gun while his right hand is trying to strike at the man with a long, silver knife. The man backs up quickly, trying to stay out of the reach of the wicked knife, but he trips, falling backward and taking Bucky with him, the gun between them.

There’s a muffled boom, like a cannon and both men freeze on the floor. You scream for Bucky, fighting against your restraints, unable to move, unable to check on him, sobbing with fear and frustration.

Slowly, unsure, he lifts himself up, glancing down at his chest, hole-free. Carefully, he walks over to you, kneeling in front of you as both Sam and Tony subdue their adversaries.

He’s okay. He’s alive.

He cups your face gently, like he’s cradling a delicate bubble. Carefully, softly, he brushes away your tears before cutting your wrists free. His eyes linger on the burns, a dozen on each arm and you pull them back from his inspection. The movement hurts, but no worse than seeing his face, knowing what he must think of you.

“Why are you here?” You ask quietly.

“I thought I made myself pretty clear.” He frowns. “I distinctly remember saying I love you.” He smiles gently.

“You’re supposed to be with your sister. She needs you.” You protest. “You’re not... you shouldn’t... not after what I did. I’m not...” you trail off, your throat tight as a tidal wave of emotions crash over you.

“Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. We can talk about this later. We need to get you looked at.” He shakes his head. He holds out his hand for me to take, but you can’t bear it, so you use the arms of the chair to push yourself up. You sway on the spot, your body aching, dizzy with pain.

Bucky catches you before you can fall, lifting you gently, holding you against his broad chest. You close your eyes, trying to fight the tears as he carries you out of the building behind his two friends. Sam and Tony are leading our their prisoners, taking a certain amount of pleasure each time they trip.

“You needed me more.” He whispers after a minute.

“What?” You frown.

“You said Becky needed me. But you needed me more.” His eyes drop to your neck, the burns there and your split shirt. A growl rumbles low in his chest and he shifts you closer.

He sets you carefully in the back seat, climbing in next to you. He pulls you against his side and you resist slightly, feeling guilty. You were cruel to him. He shouldn’t just forgive you, not like that. You betrayed his trust, took his heart and threw it back in his face. You don’t deserve him, his love, his comfort, or his forgiveness.

“Y/N?” He starts quietly as Sam and Tony cram the two men into the trunk, lingering behind the car. Probably to give you some privacy.

“How can you stand to be near me? After what I said to you... you should’ve just let me...” you squeeze your eyes shut, so you miss him flinch.

“At first, I was just gonna pretend you did. But then Tony found out what you did to the file. He’s the one who figured it out, what was really going on. And then Becky called. She really likes you.” He says with a fond smile. “We were already on our way to Florida to get you. I’m sorry we were almost too late.” He whispers, his thumb brushing your cheek again.

“How did you find me?” You ask, anything to keep him talking.

“Tony found out where they had taken you and got into the camera system. We tuned in just in time to see the cigarettes...” his jaw locks shut for a moment and you can feel him struggling. “I nearly lost my mind when he pulled out the gun.”

Sam and Tony climb back in, effectively cutting off your conversation. Bucky tries one more time to hold you, but you can’t let him. The image of his face as he left your motel room haunts you.

You don’t deserve him, no matter your reasons for doing what you did. There’s a special place in hell for hurting someone as good as Bucky.

“Samuel, to the airport, please.” Tony says pompously. He flips down his visor and catches your eye, smiling. “Do you drive in Florida a lot?” He asks randomly.

“I grew up here.”

“How did you survive? The roads down here are insane.”

“Says the guy who lives in the city with some of the worst drivers in the world.” You return, your heart not really into the banter.

“Your brother’s safe.” Bucky mumbles, his hand twitching towards you. “We alerted the police.”

You glance back at him and nod before turning to look out the window. You just need a minute alone, to think, to process, to cry. You need to figure out what to say to Bucky so he can see that he needs to leave.

***

The jet isn’t spacious enough to give you space, and they never leave your side at the airport.

Bucky sits next to you on the plane, keeping you far from the two men. That’s easy, you want to be around them just as much as he wants you around them.

You can feel him staring at you, the words bubbling up to your memory easily, but you don’t want to say them.

The plane lands at JFK and he sighs softly, helping you stand. He leads you out to one of the two waiting cars. You glance back at Tony and Sam, but they’re already getting into the other car with their prisoners.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” Bucky says off-handedly.

“Other way around.” You say, climbing in. You start to pull the door closed but he catches it easily.

“Y/N. I know why you did what you did. I know it wasn’t your fault, or your choice. I can’t imagine what you went through, being forced to do all that. Because I know how you really feel. And right now, yeah, you feel like shit. It’s understandable. And that’s okay. Because I’m gonna be here to help you through it. When the nightmares start, and the panic attacks, and when you feel like you can’t stand under the weight of it all. I’m gonna be here. Because I do love you. And you might not be ready to forgive yourself yet. But I am.” He cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“You can’t.” You manage, trying to catch your breath. “Don’t you understand? If it happened once, it can happen again. I’m a liability to you, to Tony, to what you do.”

“Bullshit. Because next time, you’re just gonna come to me and trust me to keep everyone safe. Do you even understand the amount of people at my disposal? I can call on fifty men right now to go sit on my sister’s place. And another hundred to protect your brother. And still have plenty to protect you.” His hands trail down your neck and his shoulders visibly tense. “I need to get you checked out. Then I can breathe.” He mutters, backing away and shutting your door. He walks around and climbs in next to you, taking your hand. The car starts moving and you stare at him, feeling a bit of wonder at this man.

“What?” He asks, a small smile on his face.

“You know it’s not because I didn’t trust you, right? There’s nobody I’d trust more.”

“So, why not come to me?” He frowns.

“I was afraid. I was afraid for my brother, for your sister, for you. Bucky, you’ve tried to hard to shed your past, to stop all the hurt and nightmares that Hydra caused. I didn’t want to start that cycle again. You’re so good, you deserve so much. And I hate myself for what I said to you, I truly do. But I couldn’t put you in that position to be used again.”

“Sweetheart, I would go through all of that just to have you by me again.”

“You’re certifiable.” You mutter, turning to lean back against him. He wraps his arm around you, under your arms so he doesn’t hurt you, but otherwise remains silent.

***

There’s a knock on the med room door, and you look up from your crossword puzzle to see Bucky poke his head in.

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?” You sigh, setting your book and pen on the side table.

“Nope. So, it looks like you’re free to go.” He says happily, rocking back on his heels.

“I am?” You ask, surprised.

“Yup, they said there’s no infections in your burns, and the hairline fracture in your cheekbone healed just fine.” He smiles, crossing the room.

You frown as reality settles over you. “Um,” you drop your gaze to your lap.

“What is it?” He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’ll be fine. Tony has given you the best security around. Your apartment is safe. “Nothing. Just dawned on me that you won’t be right down the hall anymore.” You shrug.

He grins. “You love me.”

“You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes.

“True.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing it and inhaling deeply. “Whenever you’re ready, I can take you home.” He promises.

“Right.” You let his play with your fingers for a little longer, procrastinating to the fullest extent. “How’s your sister?” You ask and he smiles.

“She’s good. Demanding that I bring you to dinner.” His grin widens, as his nose skims along the soft flesh of your wrist. “Threatened to disown me if I didn’t. Apparently, you made quite the impression.”

“I’m happy to go, with or without you.” You tease and he laughs.

“I’m not surprised.” He kisses the back of your hand one more time before setting it on your leg. “Go get dressed, doll. I’ll be right here.” He says.

You sigh dramatically and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. You can do this. It’ll be okay.

***

The creaking of the elevator sets your nerves on fire. You clench your jaw as the numbers climb. Only Bucky’s hand in yours keeps you from hyperventilating all together.

You can do this. You’re an adult.

Bucky unlocks your door for you, holding it open for you to step inside. You hesitate for a moment and his smile tightens. He steps inside first, walking through and opening doors. He makes quick work of checking your whole apartment before coming back to you.

“Clear.” He promises.

Your vision gets blurry, but you fight the tears, forcing yourself to step across the threshold. How can you trust this place? How can this be home ever again?

“Let me show you the security system. I know Tony explained it, but it’s a lot to take in.” He says, wrapping you in his big arms.

“I’ll say.” Your forehead furrows together.

“He wanted you to be safe.” He turns you to the front door. “This camera allows you to see who’s outside. But, it has a camera facing inside, too. You can control that from your phone, so you can see if anyone has broken in.” He explains quietly, burying his nose in your hair. “There’s a panic button in each room. You hit that button and help is on the way.”

Bucky takes you through the apartment, showing you exactly how safe Tony has made it for you. And it helps... a bit.

But really, what you see is the kitchen chair you were tied to while people you care about were threatened.

However, Stark went to a lot of effort. And you know if you don’t at least give it a go, he’s going to whine and complain.

Bucky finished his tour back at the front door. This doesn’t feel right. You frown.

“Did you wanna stay? I can make dinner.” You offer hopefully.

“Sorry, doll. We have a mission.” He says, pulling you close. “I’ll come see you when I get back, okay?”

You nod, heart sinking. “Stay safe.” You mumble and he gently puts his finger under your chin, tilting your face up.

“Can I please, pretty please, have a smile? I need to see it.” He begs and despite how hard you want to resist, you can’t.

The corners of your mouth tug up and ride even further in response to his own teasing smile.

“There she is.” He sighs happily. “I love you so much. I’ll call you later.” He kisses you slowly, pulling you closer until he breaks away, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“Sure you can’t stay?” You sigh.

He chuckles. “Positive. I can’t miss this one.” He backs up to the door, holding your hand, unwilling to let go.

“You’re not leaving.” You remind him, secretly happy that it’s as hard for him as it is for you.

“I’m not? Feels like I have already.” He grins.

“I love you.” You mumble softly, trying to force the tears to stay in the back where they belong, at least until he leaves.

“Just what I needed to hear.” He smiles.

You roll your watery eyes and push him out into the hallway. “I don’t need Tony any angrier at me than he already is.” You stick your tongue out and shut the door in his face. Otherwise you’d never be able to let him go.

He knocks on the door and you press the speaker. “Go away.”

“I miss you already.” He says.

“Don’t make me call Sam.”

You can hear his answering laugh and then his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

You can do this. You have Bucky. Everything else will get better with time, and help, and support.

Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @psyched2b @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @elliee1497@ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @scarlettwitcher@thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @barnesandco @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen@sebbbystaaan @lokisironthrone @imanuglywombat @also-fangirlinsweden@ravenesque @murdermornings

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 4 years

Text

His Little Witch~~Part 8

MASTERLIST

Part 7

Main Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Background Pairings: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom, James Potter x Lily Potter, Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson

Tags: SMUT, Swearing, Controlling!Tom Riddle, Controlling Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Possessive Tom Riddle, Soulmates, AU, CANON DIVERGENCE, Minister of Magic Tom Riddle, Out of Character Tom Riddle, nice Tom Riddle, Dumbledore and Tom get along, sane Tom Riddle

Taglist: @chewymoustachio, @peachsnyder138, @marvelous-glims, @ingeniouscollectionthing, @thedarkshiningknight

A/N: Special thanks to @thedarkshiningknight for reaching out to me and inspiring me to continue this story. As of now I am planning on writing 12 parts though it could be more. Love you all so much and I hope you guys like this new update!

————————————————————————

“C’mon guys, just a quick visit. An hour at most.” You were currently trying, unsuccessfully, to convince James and Sirius to let you visit Hogwarts.

“Y/n, you can’t even leave the grounds. Tom made sure of that with that bracelet,” Sirius huffs annoyed.

“You guys are telling me you can’t figure out how to get it off? Really losing your touch eh Padfoot, Prongs?” Ok, you were trying to goad them into helping you but it had been six days. Six days of being locked up in the manor. Tom hadn’t been home yet but he had sent Lily and Remus to tutor you for the time being. Lily and Remus had been staying with you as well, not wanting to be away from their mates for too long.

“Nice try Y/L/N,” James says pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you are not going to suck us into this. We know better.”

“You damn well better,” Remus mutters as he enters the room. “If you two help her, the Minister will have your necks.”

“Don’t worry about us, babe. We aren’t gonna be tricked by a rebellious eighteen-year-old.” Sirius boasts cockily. Remus shakes his head, not quite as sure of that as Sirius was. Sirius tugs Remus down on his lap and nuzzles into his face into Remus’s neck.

“Get a room you two,” you grumble. You normally didn’t mind their affectionate displays but after being away from Tom this long you were getting grumpy.

“Aww, don’t get grumpy just cause you haven’t gotten any lately,” Sirius teases, causing you to throw your book at him. He flicks it away with a chuckle.

“Nice try, love,” he chuckles, only irritating you further. You huff and stomp out of the kitchen and towards your room. You had to find a way out of this house.

“Y/n, you ok?” You heard Lily ask as she trailed behind you. You fling yourself down on the bed as soon as you enter your room, frustrated at the whole situation.

“No, I haven’t seen Tom in six days and he’s off hunting some maniac. We haven’t been apart for this long since we found out about each other. One day is hard enough but it’s been 6 days and no word. Just a couple of check-ins with Percy in the fireplace.” You grumble into your pillow.

“I know sweetie, James, and I haven’t been apart for more than a week since we found out we were mates. And that week was hell.” Lily replies softly, rubbing a hand up and down your back like your mom used to do when you were upset.

“Why were you apart for that long?” You ask, turning to look at her and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“It was the last time Gavin Grindelwald went on a rampage, Harry was little and they needed all hands on deck, even then James and Sirius were Minister Riddle’s right hands. So he had to go with the Minister and his guard to try and hunt Grindelwald down. It took them seven days to catch him that time, and then he escaped a couple of years ago. They couldn’t track him down that time, and now he’s back.” Lily lets out a shaky breath and you can see her hands are trembling a little.

“Lily? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out and putting your hand on her shoulder.

“It’s just he vowed revenge on all those who caught him last time, mainly Minister Riddle but James and Sirius too. To be honest I’m a little relieved they aren’t out there this time. But then I remember how much of a target-” she stops herself remembering who she’s talking to. Her cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment.

“Then you remember how much of a target Tom is and by extension I am. And your husband and best friend are responsible for protecting me.” You finish for her. Her face immediately turns apologetic.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She says softly.

“It’s ok, I know I’m a target. I’m sorry that James and Sirius have been assigned to me. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You whisper as more tears well up in your eyes. You couldn’t stand it if James and Sirius were hurt because of you. How would you ever look Harry in the eyes again? And if something happened to Tom, especially if he was protecting you…

You would die of heartbreak.

————————————————————————

“Little Witch,” you awake to Tom’s hushed voice.

“Tom?!” You ask excitedly as you open your eyes to find him leaning over you.

“Hey love,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“When did you get back?”

“Just now, I’m sorry I woke you, I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Tom. I’m glad you woke me,” you sit up and wrap your arms around Tom’s neck.

“Did you catch him?” You ask after a moment, Tom stiffens at your question and that’s all the answer you need.

“Not yet. But the first task is tomorrow and I have to be there to keep up appearances. We don’t want people to start freaking out. And I missed you. I’ve got the best people on it.” He assures you, nuzzling his face into your hair, and inhaling your scent.

“Except for James and Sirius,” you grumble under your breath.

“They have a much more important task, you.” He replies placing a quick kiss on your nose before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going, Minister?” You ask suggestively.

“Well, darling, I’ve been working for nearly six days straight and I haven’t had time to shower. So I thought before I crawl into bed with my lovely mate I’d better get cleaned up.”

“Why don’t I help you?” You walk over to him and slowly start unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“I would love that, my Little Witch.” He replies moving his hands onto your hips. He quickly pulls your shirt over your head and throws it onto the floor.

“No magic?” You ask as you slid his shirt off his shoulders.

“Sometimes the muggle way is fun,” he whispers against your lips. You hurriedly undo his pants and he kicks them along with his boxers off to the side. He fingers the top of your pants and slowly eases them and your panties off.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he places soft kisses along your inner thighs.

“Tom,” you plead, breathless.

“Yes, Little Witch?” He scoops you into his arms and carries you to the shower stall. He switches the water on before testing the temperature. Once he has determined it to be satisfactory he sets you down in the shower.

“Tom, need you,” you whimper, he backs you against the shower wall and lifts you up by your ass.

“Where do you need me, Little Witch?” Tom asks as he grazes your pussy with his hard cock.

“Tom, please,” you beg as he twists your already pebbled nipples.

“Where, love?” He asks with another brush of his cock along the lips of your glistening pussy.

“My pussy. Please, Tom. Please fuck me,” You plead, making him smirk in triumph.

“Anything for you mate,” he mutters as he lines himself up with you. In one quick motion, he thrust himself into you making you gasp at the sensation.

“Tom,” you let out a low moan causing him to growl as he nips at your neck. His deep and hard thrusts build your pleasure and push you to the brink.

“Cum for me Little Witch,” he commands in a gruff voice. You allow yourself to give in to the pleasure and let yourself come apart around him. He groans, feeling you tighten around him and he finally releases his seed into you. He stays inside you until he begins to soften and then he gently eases out and sets you down carefully.

“That was quite the welcome home, Little Witch,” he teases, walking under the stream of water.

“I missed you a lot. And it’s not as though I had much else to do,” you grumble, remembering that you were supposed to be mad at him.

“We talked about this already,” he huffs, rubbing shampoo in his hair.

“No, you talked about it, and ignored everything I was saying.” You move to help him rinse out his shampoo. You may still be pissed at him but you couldn’t resist touching him after being apart for so long. Stupid fucking mate bond, you think to yourself annoyed.

“Love, I did listen, I just disagreed. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger,” he replies as he squirts some shampoo into his palm and motions for you to turn around. You comply and he gently massages it into your hair.

“Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world,” you argue, switching places with Tom to condition his hair for him after he rinsed the conditioner out of yours.

“Yet you’ve sustained how many injuries there? And the Manor is safer, when I created that bracelet for you I also made sure you were added to the wards, the Manor will protect you. That’s why I prefer you to remain inside while Gavin Grindelwald is still at large. The grounds are protected but it’s safer inside the Manor.” He explains as he gently massages conditioned into your hair. You try to think of a good response while you both rinse out your hair and step out of the shower, but you draw a blank. Dammit, why did he have to make good points?

“I’m not a prisoner, it’s not fair to keep me locked up,” you reply tugging on your silk bathrobe.

“No, you aren’t a prisoner. But you are my mate and that makes you a target for my enemies. I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it pisses you off. I’d rather have you hate me and be alive than love me and be dead,” He whispers in a pained voice. And that’s when you remember what you had heard about his past. Tom’s father abandoned his mother when he found out she was a witch and in her heartbreak, she ended up dying right after giving birth to Tom. Tom had been raised in an orphanage that was overrun with children and never really received much love. Then it had taken him 20 years to find his soulmate, someone he could love and be loved by.

“Tom, I could never hate you,” you place a soft kiss on his lips and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers as his grip on you tightens.

“You won’t,” you promise, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“So can I go to the first task tomorrow?” You ask, making him groan in annoyance.

“Of course, why not? It’s not like there is a psychotic maniac out there who tortures people for fun and has a vendetta against me and anyone I care about.” He replies sarcastically.

“So it’s a yes?” You ask playing dumb as you pull away to get a better look at his face.

“No, absolutely not. We still haven’t caught him. He’s planning something big, and it could easily be happening tomorrow. It’s the first task in the Triwizard Tournament, he knows I have to be there, there will be a large crowd, parents, students, teachers and other citizens. It’s the perfect target. I will not have you go there and be put in danger.” He argues.

“Tom, I’ll be fine, I’ll be with you. There’s gonna be plenty of security measures in place. It’s probably safer for me to be there with you and tons of Aurors than stuck at home with only James and Sirius. Plus Harry’s competing tomorrow, I have to be there and so do James and Sirius.” You plead, looks like this argument was going to be harder to win than you thought.

“No, no. I can’t put you at risk like that. I will not lose you too. Not when I finally found you.” He says harshly, his jaw tightening.

“You aren’t going to lose me. I’ll be fine Tommy. Please.” You beg, throwing him your signature puppy dog face.

“As adorable as you look, you aren’t going to win this with a puppy dog face.” He says smirking at your childish attempt at making him change his mind. Alright, time to switch tactics then.

“What about this?” You ask sliding your silk, black bathrobe off your shoulder and showing off more cleavage.

“Nice try, that isn’t going to work either.” He chuckles, we’ll see who’s laughing in a couple of minutes…

“Alright,” you pretend to give up.

“What?” He asks confused. You ignore him and turn around before shrugging off your robe and slowly sliding it off. You walk over to the bed before climbing onto it and laying down in the middle. Putting yourself on full display for Tom.

“I said alright. Sex isn’t going to convince you to let me go tomorrow.” You say, gently running your hands over your breasts, flicking your nipples softly. You see Tom straighten up and watch you carefully.

“Need some help there, Little Witch?” He asks confidently.

“No thanks. You didn’t want sex,” you reply, running your right hand down your stomach and cupping your pussy.

“No, I said that sex wouldn’t convince me to put you in danger tomorrow.” He argued.

“Well, since I don’t get to have any fun, ugh,” you moan as you rub your clit, “then you don’t get to have any fun.”

“C’mon love, don’t be like that,” he groans and you can see him hardening at your moans.

“All you have to do is say yes Tommy,” you tease, spreading your legs wider to give him a better view of you.

“No, love, I won’t say yes.” He argues but you hear his voice crack when you let another moan.

“Then neither will I.” You tease, sliding your index finger into your pussy slowly. “Aw, Tommy please, just say yes. Then we both can get what we want. Please Tommy say yes.” You beg. You see his guard falling.

“Fine, but you stay by my side the entire time understood?” He relents.

“Yes Tom, I understand.” You agree.

“Now can I help you take care of your problem?” He asks, eyeing your pussy hungrily.

“Yes Tommy,” you whisper breathlessly. He is on you in a second, sliding into you just as quickly. His thrusts are slow and deep, teasing you as you had just teased him.

“Faster Tommy, please,” you beg. He shakes his head, his face breaking out into a smirk.

“Not yet love,” he says before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Please Tommy,” you whimper as he rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Your wish is my command,” he replies before thrusting into you faster and harder.

He locks his lips with yours as he thrusts in and out of you, deep and hard.

“Tom,” you moan as you near the edge.

“Let go, love, cum for me” he commands gently.

“Yes Tom, agh,” you groan as you give in to your release.

“Good girl,” he praises before he stiffens and shots hot jets of cum inside you.

Once you both come down from your high he gently eases out of you and tucks you under his arm. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and then buries his face in your hair.

“I love you,” he whispers softly.

“I love you too Tommy. Everything is gonna be ok.”

“I can’t lose you Little Witch,” he mutters, his voice raw with emotion.

“You won’t Tom, I promise.”

————————————————————————

Part 9

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thankskenpenders · 4 years

Text

So, about the movie...

At long last, a week after it came out, I was finally able to see the Sonic movie. The Daytona 500 being held across the street from my favorite theater and conflicting work schedules had been keeping me away, but now I’ve finally seen it. And it was...

Decent!

Which is way, way, way, way, way better than a movie with this awful premise has any right being. That’s for damn sure. I enjoyed my time at the theater. I don’t know how they did it, but they did it. If you like Sonic and haven’t already seen it, you will probably get a kick out of this film. If you don’t like Sonic (or Jim Carrey), there is very little in this movie for you

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time to break that whole movie down. This will contain full spoilers for the Sonic movie

This movie kinda gave me deja vu because it’s set up so similarly to the Bumblebee movie. Both open with a slavishly faithful CGI sequence on another planet to ensure long time fans that the creative team gives a shit, but a conflict sends the title character to Earth. There, they form an emotional bond with the human lead as they’re pursued by the bad guys, who are working with the US government and tracking the energy signature of the title character. This setup worked extremely well for Bumblebee, because it’s so similar to the usual plot of Transformers. For Sonic, it was... a mixed bag. But it worked better than I expected

(This shot does not happen in the movie.)

That opening though, huh? Green Hill Zone looked great, and I was pleasantly surprised to see they did, in fact, use the Hyper Potions track from Sonic Mania in the actual film. (The piano rendition of the Green Hill theme used later was also lovely.) Longclaw was also interesting. I’ve seen one person bring up all the bird-themed ruins in Sonic 1 and 2 as a possible source of inspiration for the character, and I think that’s a valid take. And man, the echidnas! I wasn’t expecting that AT ALL. I guess that was probably the Knuckles Clan or something? I would never, ever picture them being alive during Sonic’s lifetime, but like... I guess Knuckles had to come from somewhere, right? If they do another movie with Knuckles, will the rest of his kind have died out?

Sadly, though, this sequence felt like it was over in a heartbeat. We barely see Sonic’s life on his home planet, and we’re expected to feel emotional over Longclaw’s sacrifice when she only gets like three lines before Sonic is sent to Earth. This is a common theme with the film--it goes for these big emotional beats that it just does not earn with its rapid fire pacing

Anyway, then we fast forward and Sonic’s a teen. This is actually kind of an interesting one if you’re constantly neck deep in Sonic Character Analysis like me, because it’s a pretty different take on the character. It’s hard to give them credit for doing something somewhat fresh with the character, though, because like... how much of that was intentional, and how much was just Hollywood writers trying to squeeze a generic action-adventure movie out of Sonic? (Honestly, it’s probably mostly the latter.)

The closest other piece of Sonic media to the movie would probably be Sonic X, a story in which Sonic isn’t really the protagonist. The Sonic of the anime is fairly emotionally distant. He cares deeply about his friends, and does nice things for them, but he’s totally fine with running off on his own for extended lengths of time, and he doesn’t really talk about his feelings. He’s not the character the audience is meant to sympathize with, but is instead this cool older kid who Chris wants to impress. This is pretty much in line with how Sega likes to depict the character. He cares about his friends, but he’s also cool with being a loner. It feels like he only runs into them incidentally, usually when Eggman is causing trouble, and then when the crisis of the week is taken care of he’s back to going on his own adventures. There’s a reason why one of his catchphrases is “long time no see”

The Sonic of the movie is the polar opposite. His main conflict is that he’s lonely and desperately seeks friendship. He’s also an overly-eager, extremely earnest goober. He literally flosses twice. (Which I loved.) I’ve seen him compared to Silver, and honestly, that’s not a bad comparison. I did like it, though! I don’t mind Sonic being a more emotionally open character, like he was in a lot of older Western media. I mean, he cried in like the second or third episode of SatAM

It’s just that, like many things in the movie, it feels less like a deliberate creative choice and more like a logical string of decisions to make when writing a generic action-adventure film for general audiences. Sonic’s the only one of his kind on Earth, so of course he’d be lonely. He has to have some sort of arc for audiences to connect with him, and if he’s gotta be accompanied by James Marsden for the whole movie, well, his arc’s gotta be about them becoming friends

I’ve gotta say, though: Ben Schwartz is great as Sonic. As much as I like Roger Craig Smith, I wouldn’t complain if he became the new main voice of the character. And thanks to the redesign, he looked great. I can’t imagine how nightmarish this movie would’ve been if Sonic wasn’t cute

My main fear with this movie, though, was that Sonic wouldn’t really be the protagonist. As a fan of Transformers, I know all too well that the cost of doing a full CGI character usually means that said character can’t really be the star of the film. Optimus and Bumblebee aren’t the stars of the Transformers movies--they’re supporting characters who are primarily present for the sake of the action scenes. The humans are the real stars in those movies, and the robots are barely even characters. I was terrified that Sonic would be the same, with the actual character I paid to see taking a backseat to James Marsden The Cop

I’m not quite sure if they struck the right balance there, but they did better than I worried they would. Sonic is central enough to the film and gets enough screentime that you can easily say he’s the protagonist. BUT there is absolutely too much of Tom and his family. The human cast is fine, the performances are fine, and there were a few good jokes, but every time the movie tried to get me to care about Tom’s life I was bored out of my mind. It’s just so trite and passionless. The other characters barely felt fleshed out at all, including Tom’s girlfriend (wife?) and Agent Stone. The little girl who gives Sonic the shoes had some cute moments, though

I do, however, love the part in which James Marsden is walking around in a San Francisco t-shirt, to remind us that he’s planning on moving to San Francisco... which then becomes the excuse for Sonic to think about San Francisco and accidentally send his warp rings there, which becomes the excuse for the buddy road trip aspect of the film. And as much as that was a focus of the marketing, the actual road trip part is like... maybe 20 minutes of the movie? There’s like three scenes with Sonic and Tom on the road and then they’re in San Francisco for act 3. The movie tries to act like they’ve formed this deep bond and I just did not give a shit. I don’t care about the cop. All Cops Are Bastards, and that absolutely includes Tom, whose dream in life is to join the extremely corrupt San Francisco PD

The whole excuse for Sonic having to sit in the passenger seat of a car going the speed limit for a good chunk of the movie is also, just. Stupid. If he doesn’t know where San Francisco is and time is of the essence, just... give him a map?

And then there’s Jim Carrey. I was worried about this one. The previews tended to highlight his most Jim Carrey Being Wacky moments, and as fond as I am of movies like The Truman Show and Bruce Almighty, that’s just. That’s not Robotnik. I was pleasantly surprised by the actual movie, though! I thought he was pretty good. I’m not sure what incarnation of Eggman I’d most compare him to, but like... it was close enough, and he was entertaining enough. I’d pay to go see another movie with him as Robotnik. Sure. (Especially with how he was looking at the end of the film.)

There were some other little interesting tidbits here with Eggman, although again, a lot of that is less “let’s do a new take on Eggman” and more “let’s do a marketable movie with Eggman in it, which requires us to explain some stuff.” Like him straight up just being a normal human from Earth, with none of the confusion present in the current “two worlds” canon of the games. Or him apparently being an orphan who was bullied in school, and who trusts machines more than other humans. It’s a safe way to depict the character in a Hollywood movie, but I thought it worked

The way they got to his nickname was kind of funny, though. Like, obviously they didn’t put Jim Carrey in a fat suit, and thank god for that. So instead of mocking his weight, the nickname is derived from the egg-shaped robots he uses. Which made sense, I guess. It at least felt logical for this incarnation of Sonic, who had annoyingly been calling Tom “Donut Lord” the whole movie, to make up the nickname “Eggman.” (Said robots, by the way, were a weak point of the movie to me. They just didn’t have that Eggman whimsy and felt very safe and very Hollywood. Honestly, though, if they had just made Robotnik’s ship grey and slapped some hazard stripes on it, it’d probably be fine.)

As a whole, I thought the humor of the movie was... okay. Sonic had a lot of good moments thanks to Schwartz’s great performance, as did Robotnik. There were just so many weird lines, like James Marsden telling Robotnik that he was breast fed, or the agonizingly long child trafficking joke with Sonic in the duffel bag. Stuff like that

The action was great, though. They definitely owe a lot to the Quicksilver scene in that one X-men movie (I forget the one), but they had a lot of fun with Sonic’s powers and it felt extremely true to the character. Seeing him do one of his Smash poses during the San Francisco fight was great. The action scenes were an absolute delight

And then the ending. Oh, that ending

So, I had already heard that Tails shows up in the stinger before I saw the film. And when I heard that, I expected it to be like, the classic Tails origin story. Maybe Sonic would return to his planet, and run into this precocious kid who decides to follow him around... but no! Not at all! Tails is already the Tails we know and love. He’s already an inventor, he’s already tracking down Sonic. I’m shocked that Sonic actually stayed with Tom instead of running off to have new adventures, but hopefully this is a sign that more characters will be brought into the fray if they make a sequel

And boy, they better make that damn sequel. This movie had a great opening weekend and a positive reception. They have no excuse not to. GIVE US SONIC AND TAILS GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

Other stray thoughts

Holy shit they put Sanic in the movie

The Sega logo animation meant that Kiryu from Yakuza was in this movie for a few seconds

The pixel art credits sequence, which featured both the Sonic 2 special stage and Get Blue Spheres as well as the Eggman logo screens from the Studiopolis Zone boss, was cute

The Saturn logo could be seen on the diagram of the other habitable planets

Robotnik had a label for “Badniks” on his circuit breaker. I wonder if the drones in the movie are intended to be Badniks, or if we’ll see actual ones if a sequel gets made

Also, was it implied that Robotnik committed war crimes for the US government

One of the government guys who I think only got one line was played by Garry Chalk and as such sounded exactly like Optimus Primal

I can’t tell if Sonic getting a red race car bed was an intentional shout out to the Archie comics or if it’s just a coincidence, but I loved it

A dude about my age wearing a Sonic Mania t-shirt literally stood up and clutched his head in shock when Tails showed up

After the movie a very excited kid got his mom to take his photo with the Sonic display in the lobby. Afterwards he was so excited that he flossed

I can’t believe they talked about Olive Garden so much

#tkp post #other media #sonic movie spoilers

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hispeculiartreasure · 5 years

Text

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Twelve | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: All Ages

Word count: 4,968

Chapter 12/24

Warnings: Family tension

AN: What’s extra wild about this post is that it marks the official halfway point in this story! We have come so very far, yet there is still so much in store for you. Aaaaand I’m gonna stop before I get emotional about it. As always, thanks for sticking around and having passion for this story. This wouldn’t exist without your support.

Per usual, my most heartfelt appreciation to @lucyyannabel , @barnesrogersvstheworld , and @abovethesmokestacks for being my personal cheerleaders and listening to me whine and complain about this chapter and how ornery the Barnes family could be. Bucky is blowing all of you a kiss 😘

Chapter Eleven

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

“Bucky, are you sure I shouldn’t have worn a dress?” you ask for the tenth time, looking uncertainly down at your wide-legged trousers which fall in a graceful line to your feet. Your brightly colored blouse - the one Suzy had picked out between the options you had presented her; she insisted it was the perfect color on you - is carefully tucked in where your pants taper in at the waist.

House by house you steadily approach the Barnes’ family home as you walk the streets of Brooklyn. Your fingers toy with the fabric of Bucky’s suit jacket absentmindedly where your hand is tucked into his elbow.

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you could wear a potato sack and the girls wouldn’t think less of you.” He playfully nudges your side for good measure.

“Well I did have a dress made out of a flour sack when I was a kid, maybe that would’ve been better.”

He’s all tease. “First off, everyone had flour-sack clothes. We were all Depression kids, you’re not special.” His tone shifts to one of gentle sincerity. “Second, quit worryin’. They care about who you are as a person a lot more than what you’re wearing.”

‘Quit worrying,’ you scoff internally. What a gas. Meeting Steve and Peggy was one thing, but this? How can I not worry about meeting the four women that know him best? Four women that could easily chew me up and spit me out if they don’t think I’m right for Bucky. I need all the help I can get. At least his dad won’t be here.

Bucky brings you to a stop in front of a waist-level iron fence. At the end of the pathway behind the white gate is a sweet brick house with a small porch, large windows taking up most of the front of the home.

“This is it,” he sighs before turning to look down at you. “You ready?”

Rather than answering his question you ask your own. “Are you ready?”

A smile quirks his mouth to one side before he opens the tiny gate with a flourish. “After you, ma’am.”

He raps his knuckles on the door once, twice, before opening the door. Loud female chatter reaches you from around the corner as Bucky takes your purse and hat to hang on the coat rack before he deposits his own hat and jacket. There’s an undeniable warmth here that has nothing to do with the temperature. Red drapes frame the windows, the pieces of on-trend floral furniture matching perfectly. You can practically see a young Bucky listening to the large radio in the corner while sprawled out on the patterned area rug.

“We’re here!” he shouts, leading you by the hand through the living room to approach the kitchen.

The talk comes to an immediate stop before you hear a rumbling of feet. “Bucky!” several women squeal as they rush to meet you in the kitchen’s threshold.

You are momentarily stunned by how similar the Barnes women look. Their various statures are among the only differences between them. You see echoes of Bucky in their raven hair, bright eyes, and dimples as all of them flock to greet you.

Two of them surge forward, each taking an arm exuberantly.“Oh hello!” by way of the pregnant stomach, you’re assuming Rose, greets.

“I can’t believe we are finally meeting you!” the youngest-looking, has to be Evelyn, coos through the sweetest smile that takes you aback.

They begin to talk over each other, variations of “You look lovely!” and “It’s about time he brings you around” and “Are you sure he’s not paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend?” shared in all sorts of merriment.

“Let her breathe, girls,” chides the tallest from her place beneath Bucky’s arm.

Becca, you reason, given Bucky’s easy demeanor as they embrace.

Clad in a clearly well-loved apron, the shortest, eldest, and most effusive of the women reaches her hands toward you and Rose and Evelyn make way for their mother. You clumsily clasp her fingers, maternal affection not among the things you’re used to. She either doesn’t or pretends not to notice your stilted return of her greeting as she says, “Welcome to our home, darling. Needless to say, we are thrilled you and James are here.” It’s the first time you’ve heard someone call Bucky by his first name and it would have been jarring if not for the obvious affection with which Winnifred spoke it. You can’t help but take note that the corners of her eyes have the same distinct crinkle when she smiles, just like someone else you know.

“Thank you for having me over for dinner, Mrs. Barnes.”

She waves a hand, “None of that, please call me Winnifred.” Moving to Bucky, she plants a kiss to his rosy, clean-shaven cheek.

Becca takes the moment to introduce herself before complimenting, “I love your outfit. I wish I could pull that color off.”

“Thank you for saying that, I was wondering if I shouldn’t have dressed up a bit more.” You flatten your hands against your thighs.

Looking down at her own perfectly tailored trousers then back up at you, her eyes dance. “Pants are perfectly dressy enough in this house. I’ve broken the family in for you,” she winks conspiratorially. “But I think we should get to wear what we want when we’re making our own money, ya know?”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” you smile genuinely for the first time since stepping in the door. Perhaps it was your knowledge of Bucky’s special bond with Becca coloring your opinions, but you suddenly felt as if you had a teammate in your corner, someone to act as a buffer against any awkwardness you may feel.

Winnifred turns from Bucky back to you, laying a soft hand on your shoulder. “I apologize, dear - dinner is running a little behind schedule. Normally I’d try to have the meal finished by the time our guests arrive, but it’s been a hectic day. Bucky tells us you’re the gracious sort who won’t be scared off by our tardiness.”

Feeling all eyes on you you shake your head. “Oh gosh, no, it’s perfectly okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“The only thing you’re allowed to do is sit with us in the kitchen and have a glass of tea.” With that, Rose loops her arm through yours and leads you to the table in the kitchen. You obediently take a seat and expect to be joined by Bucky but when you turn, he’s undone the cuffs of his long button-down shirt and is rolling up his sleeves. He grabs a bowl from the counter, grabbing a potato masher and getting to work.

You fight a pang of petulant jealousy that Bucky gets to do something to keep himself busy while you sit in the middle of the room, useless and on display.

Each family member has a task, an area you suspect is fairly common for them. Winnifred focuses on the main dish - something that looks suspiciously like a meatloaf roasting in the oven. Bucky and Becca bump hips as they assist with side dishes as needed - mashed potatoes and some vegetable concoction. Rose has gathered cups for beverages, Evelyn is in charge of setting the table for six. You imagine this scene playing out a thousand times in the past, the ease of moving around each other, the familiarity of the room. It sends an ache to your heart.

You make it through the standard questions politely; where you work, what you do, where you’re from. Everything you’d expected for a ‘meet the family’ night and the meal hadn’t even been served yet. This was going to be fine, what could happen?

“What did you say was your hometown?” Evelyn asks.

Bucky answers for you from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, sending a bloom of warmth through your chest. “Tarrytown.”

“Tarrytown. . . where have I heard of that?” Winnifred tuts almost to herself while she peers into the oven.

“It’s about a five minute drive from Sleepy Hollow, if that helps.” You sip your tea, waiting on the typical reaction.

“That’s exactly it!” she props a hand on her hip as comprehension dawns on her.

Rose looks to you curiously. “Sleepy Hollow? As in, the Headless Horseman?”

“One and the same,” you nod, relishing in your little town’s shared history. You couldn’t imagine a world where the setting of a 19th century legend wasn’t the sweeping glen outside of your hometown - well technically, village - that inspired gothic stories all through the region.

The family makes various noises of interest and surprise, including a begrudging “I didn’t even know that,” from your boyfriend.

Becca hums. “I can imagine Halloween is a pretty big deal for you guys.”

Finally, a subject you could really talk about. “Oh, you have no idea. It’s a week-long event for us and we get a ridiculous amount of visitors.”

“Do you and your family have any fun traditions for Halloween?”

You smile at Winnifred before answering. “Well, I’m an only child, so it’s always been just me and my parents. We usually volunteer at one of the public events or attend a party our neighbor throws.”

“That sounds lovely,” she returns your smile.

You stand up for a moment, taking a step toward Bucky. “Are you sure I can’t help-”

“NO!” all five Barneses exclaim, twisting to fix you with the same exact insistent, yet kind look. You immediately plant yourself in your seat again.

“You’re our guest,” Rose explains.

“Actually, Rose, you need to sit down too. You’ve been on your feet all evening,” Evelyn pointedly looks down to her sister’s shoes.

“I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong,” she groans before sinking into the chair next to you.

“How much longer do you have?” you ask as the other siblings take orders from Winnifred.

With a thoughtful hum and rub of her belly Rose replies, “About three months, we think.”

“That’s gotta be exciting,” you venture, bordering on territory that was completely unfamiliar.

The young woman’s head bobs back and forth. “Exciting, terrifying. . . depends on the day. I thought I was ready to be a mother, but the closer we get, the more nervous I feel. I have no clue what I’m going to do.” The last bit is said quietly, almost guiltily, as if it had been the first time she’d let the thought breathe outside of her own mind.

Sensing her tenuous feelings, you measure your next words carefully. “While I don’t know exactly what you mean, I can relate to that.” Rose watches you, doe-eyed. “I’ve been living on my own for a few months now and I feel like every day I make it up as I go along. But I don’t think any of us are expected to have everything figured out. Having the willingness, the grit try to figure it out is what counts. Obviously I don’t know anything about being a parent. But it seems like if you love your child and do your best by them, everything will fall into place.”

You weren’t expecting to see Rose’s eyelashes glittering with moisture when you look back to her.

Oh no. I’ve said the wrong thing, why couldn’t I just nod and move on?

The panic you felt on the inside must have started to show on your face, because Rose begins shaking her head, wiping furiously at the tears. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so weepy lately. I needed to hear that. Thank you, really. I haven’t really talked about it before, except with my husband.”

Relief floods you. “You’re welcome, and I mean it. It’s gonna be okay.”

Rose giggles wetly before looking past you. “She’s just as kind as you said, Buck.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” A familiar hand on your shoulder prompts you to look up into Bucky’s soft eyes.

He looks like he wants to say something but is interrupted by Winnifred announcing, “Let’s get the food on the table, kids, it’s dinner time.”

The six of you fit comfortably around the table. Bucky and Winnifred settle at either end while you sit to Bucky’s right, next to Becca. Once Rose and Evelyn are seated across from you the steaming platters are passed around. You fill your plate up probably more than was considered “lady-like”, but it smelled so much like home and you’d rather overeat than insult your hostess by not eating enough.

“Tell us how you met,” Evelyn urges as she picks up her fork. “Buck only mentioned it was through work.”

“Well, do you want to know about the time he almost died or the first time we actually spoke to each other a few weeks later?” You take a bite of the meatloaf, chewing at Bucky smuggly.

The table as a whole freezes and all heads swivel to Bucky, who has developed a sudden intense interest in his meatloaf.

“James, you said this job was safe.” Winnifred does a fair job of hiding her natural worry behind a stern gaze.

“Compared to war it is. And saying I almost died is an exaggeration.”

“Free-falling 10 stories is exaggerating near-death?” you say skeptically.

“Bucky!” The four women squawk. He finally has the decency to look embarrassed.

“I was never in danger, it was just a little hiccup.”

You share what you saw that crisp April morning, his fearlessness, his strength, his kindness during your first true interaction through the window. And a concerning disregard for his personal safety, but that was beside the point.

Bucky finally chimes in when you describe how stressed you were on your first day. “When I actually got to cleaning the window close to her desk, she was so frazzled she couldn’t even find the pencil behind her ear.” He winks at you before assuring you, “It was adorable.”

“Guess you’ve been keeping me sane ever since, huh?” you let a smile loose, the fondness of that first memory erasing any embarrassment you may have had.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eye as he says, “That’s debatable.”

“Takes crazy to know crazy.” His sisters dissolve into giggles at your sass, Winnifred hiding a sly grin behind her napkin. “Anyway, we went on our first date a couple weeks later.”

Becca props her chin on a hand before she mockingly muses, “Well isn’t that sickeningly cute.” Bucky sends a face her way that Winnifred immediately chastises him for, muttering something about “adult toddlers”.

A spirited debate begins amongst the siblings regarding Bucky’s behavior as an older brother and first-born.

You look up from your plate upon hearing your name, finding Evelyn leaning on her elbows toward you. “Count yourself lucky to not have any brothers or sisters, he was an absolute terror growing up.”

“Oh come on, I think it was the standard fare,” Bucky tries to bargain. “And I spent a lot of time carting you around so you could hang out with friends.”

Evelyn presses her fingertips together, steepling her hands. “Shall we go back to the worst Thanksgiving of my life?” Bucky groans, a hand coming up to cover his eyes.

The girl’s attention is on you now, eyes as expressive as her brother’s. “I get massive hiccups after dinner which stick around for an hour. Buck walks in with a ‘Hey, I learned a surefire way to get rid of hiccups, wanna try?’ And of course I do because I’m miserable and I trust my big brother. Five minutes later he’s got me hanging upside down by my ankles while Becca pours water into my mouth. He tried to drown me! Both of you did!”

“I was trying to help! Plus that was a long time ago - I was young and foolish.”

“YOU WERE 23!” Evelyn yells, causing you to sputter into your beverage.

“Your hiccups stopped didn’t they?” Bucky’s hand is on his chest, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Only after you nearly dropped me when Mom came into the room!” Everyone, even Winnifred, can’t contain themselves at that; everyone else re-living the memory while you chuckle just imagining it. You love the idea of the shenanigans the Barnes children got up to in this house, picturing this kind of laughter around the clock. Growing up, your own small house was often quiet with only three mild-mannered people taking up residence.

The sound of a car door slamming shut has Bucky glancing toward the kitchen window, brows knitting together. The front door opens and his posture immediately shifts as he looks to his Ma. She’s already on her feet, disappearing into the hallway where your ears pick up a deep voice. The siblings around you share hard looks, leaving you confused. But then Winnifred appears in the kitchen doorway, eyes trained on Bucky. Something is shared between them extremely quickly that you can’t keep up with before realizing what’s happened.

George Barnes shuffles in looking weary and dour, setting his luggage down by the couch. Bucky shares many of his features - the strong jaw, consistent hairline, the mouth - yet you’d never seen this sour of an expression on his son’s face.

Bucky stands. “Dad. Didn’t know you were going to make it.”

“Well I heard we were having a guest and didn’t want to miss the opportunity to meet her.”

Bucky twists the cloth napkin in his hands tightly.

Not sure what else to do, you stand and smile at George, drawing his attention.

He removes his hat, fiddling with it in one hand. “So this is the girl I’ve heard so much about. George Barnes.” A small wave is given across the table, his sharp eyes flicking down to your outfit for a moment before returning to study you.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” you offer, your mind grasping desperately for something else to say but coming up empty.

Breaking the silence, Winnifred turns to Evelyn. “Could you grab another setting please? We’ll have to shift around a little bit.” Everyone moves from their stock-still positions, shuffling plates around the table to make room for one more seat. Bucky pulls a chair next to yours as you shift closer to Becca, managing to sit snugly between the siblings as George replaces Bucky at the head of the table.

The patriarch gratefully accepts the full plate set in front of him, not wasting a moment to begin his meal. The rest of the family turns to their own food. You take note that Evelyn has removed her elbows from the table. Becca has fallen silent. Rose’s face lacks a smile. You’re certain if Bucky sits up any straighter he’s going to pull a muscle.

What just happened? You wonder, more than a little stunned.

“So, Bucky, how’s your training going?” Rose attempts, voice desperate to dispel the tension in the room.

Only you catch the moment of hesitation Bucky has before answering. “It’s tough, but I think I’m doing well. Spend almost every spare minute studying. After Independence Day I’m headed to Pennsylvania for a month of on-site training. I’ve been told it will be intense.”

“Mmm, I remember those days of training. It felt like forever,” you remark, taking a stab at your vegetables.

“I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be a woman in such a masculine profession,” Becca comments, tone almost formal as she keeps her eyes down.

George grunts from his chair, scooping another forkful of mashed potatoes. The noise strikes a chord in Bucky - you can see his mouth moving to open, a bitter retort no doubt on his tongue. Instinctually you rest a hand on his thigh, halting him.

“Yes, it was a challenge. But nothing I couldn’t handle,” you smile sweetly at Becca, feeling George watching you. Pointedly ignoring him, you tack on, “You could’ve handled it too. It’s not so bad.”

Bucky continues. “Good news is that Harvey, her uncle,” he motions to you, “offered me a position as a serviceman in his garage once I get back. He’s agreed to help teach me as I finish up my training.” You pat Bucky’s leg, for the umpteenth time in your life thankful for your Uncle Harvey.George joins the conversation.

“You’ve got a job lined up then, have you?”

“Yes, sir.” Bucky adds a tight nod of assent.

“Ya know, James-” you can’t help but compare Winnifred’s sweet handling of the name versus George’s almost scold, “-I would’ve been more than happy to have set you up with a position at my company if you’d asked. That was the plan before you enlisted.”

“I know, Dad. I needed something new.”

His father huffs, eyes cutting to you yet again. “Didn’t think I pushed you to be in the top of your class all those years to end up with you in that profession. But it’s your life.”

The words are coming out of your mouth before your mind can process them.

“Actually, being a mechanic requires an advanced understanding of mathematics and physics as well as the ability to comprehend mechanical and electrical engineering. Your efforts weren’t wasted sir, they are being put to excellent use.”

Again, the stillness at the dining table is glaringly obvious.

A tinge of regret swirls in your gut. Not from having said the words, but for the discomfort it caused five members of the family. The sixth, you were quickly discovering you didn’t care too much for.

“George, how was your work trip?” Winnifred questions, graciously shifting focus away from her son.

However, your focus turns to Bucky completely. A close look shows that he’s making a valiant effort to control his breathing, and you’re guessing his temper too. You tap fingers on the back of his hand and he flips it over to thread your digits together. The motion calms you somewhat, worry that you had added to his anxiety easing. A gentle squeeze from him signals that he’s thankful. You squeeze twice to tell him he’s doing great. He’s in the middle of his sequence of three squeezes back when the topic of conversation turns again, drawing your attention elsewhere.

Some time later George lays his fork down, sighing in satisfaction. “Dinner was wonderful, Winnie,” he says rather kindly, the obvious affection for his wife in his gaze a stark contrast to his behavior toward everyone else.

“Thank you, dear.” Winnifred turns, “Evelyn, I believe it’s your turn to wash up.”

“Oh please, let me help,” you implore. The family begins to protest before you raise your voice above them, already taking yours and Bucky’s plates in hand. “Please, let me be useful tonight. You all have been wonderful hosts, let me feel a little better about myself.”

Without much resistance, the Barneses acquiesce. Winnifred places bread pudding on the table, starts up a pot of coffee, and doles out mugs. After scraping the remnants of food from the dinner plates you take station next to Evelyn, towel at the ready to dry the dishes after she washes and rinses.

After a few plates and asking after her boyfriend, you go after the only other thing you really know about Evelyn. “You graduated high school, right? What’s next for you, Evie?”

“Evelyn,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry?”

Her shy glance at you hints at a deeper insecurity. “Would you mind calling me Evelyn?”

You blink. “Oh gosh, of course I don’t mind. I am so sorry, that’s just all I’ve heard Bucky call you.”

A gentle sigh escapes her before she confides, “I’ve asked him to stop calling me Evie. He hasn’t quite gotten around to it.”

“Ah. Childhood nickname I assume?” you calmly wipe down a few utensils before setting them aside.

“Right. It just. . .“ Evelyn contemplates the suds covering her hands, “. . . doesn’t sound like an adult. And it feels like when Bucky calls me Evie, he’s not thinking of me as an adult. He’s still picturing the scrawny 14-year-old little sister he left behind when he joined the army. I’ve grown up a lot since then, but he’s not really seeing that.” She hands over a plate ready for drying, catching your thoughtful face. “I’m sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, I understand. Thank you for telling me. So, Evelyn, tell me what your plans are.”

As you listen to Evelyn talk about engagement rings and wedding plans, you check over your shoulder and catch Bucky watching you. Unlike every other time in your relationship when you’ve caught him looking, he doesn’t turn away bashfully. In fact, his nose crinkles ever-so-slightly while his lips curl into a smile. Part of you wants to feel self-conscious, but another part preens at the attention, the adoration in his eyes.

His content expression disappears, however, when George turns to say something to him, the corners of his mouth turning down quickly. You sigh internally. Turns out you’d taken Steve’s warning about father and son not getting along a little too lightly. And it also turns out that it was harder to watch than you’d expected.

As soon as the dishes are set back in their places in the cabinet, you and Evelyn join the table once more. Gratefully accepting the coffee Bucky passes you sit in your chair, noticing that he’d scooted ever-so-slightly closer with his arm stretching across the back of your seat.

“I understand you work, is that right?”

A glance up from your bread pudding confirms that George was speaking to you. Scrutinizing men was something you dealt with every day. This was child’s play. “Yes, sir. In Chevrolet’s corporate office.”

“Doing what?”

“I work directly for a supply manager, I monitor his correspondence and help maintain the relationship between Chevrolet and our factories in this region.”

“And you type letters, I assume?”

Not being able to stop the narrowing of your eyes you take a beat before responding, “Yes, sir. That’s one of my many responsibilities.”

George takes a sip of coffee, matching your scrupulous gaze squarely. “And you’re finding moving from factory work to being a secretary satisfying?”

Wooden chair legs screech across the floor as Bucky stands abruptly, aggressively tabling his coffee mug. “We better get going, work will come early in the morning and we’ve got a good walk home.”

Everyone else stands to their feet - George being the last to rise - and Bucky grabs your things for you. As you accept hugs from Rose and Evelyn, you watch Winnifred embrace Bucky from the corner of your eye. She whispers something in his ear. Bucky pulls back, smile and nod tight as he turns to his father.

You miss their exchange when Becca offers her own hug. “We should grab dinner sometime after work!”

“I would really enjoy that, Becca. Thank you for being so welcoming,” you squeeze back.

Before pulling away completely she whispers, “You have done my brother a world of good and I will love you for that forever.” Someone would think she’d punched you in the stomach, the way the breath was knocked out of you.

Turns out that George Barnes spares you from having to respond. “It has been very nice meeting you, young lady,” he bellows as sticks his hand out to you.

“Likewise, Mr. Barnes.” You grasp it and shake firmly, making a point to maintain eye contact before you part.

Winnifred grabs your hands once again. “You are a true joy. Thank you for spending the evening with us. I hope we get to see you soon and get to know you better.” Her openness continues to throw you for a loop. “And if you’re ever in the neighborhood and need anything, our door is always open.”You tell her that you’ll keep that in mind as you return her hug.

Everyone says a last “goodbye!” as Bucky shuts the door, placing his hat on his head. He latches the iron gate before turning to you.

Hands shoved in his pockets, he kicks a rock.

“You okay?” you inquire hesitantly.

He looks up at the dark sky. “I think so. Are you?” Blue eyes dart to yours, the concern there enhanced by the street lamps.

You chuckle. “I think so.”

“I’m so sorry,” he moves to rub the back of his neck as if it pained him. “I had no clue he was going to be here-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Bucky.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “We both know that’s not true. I don’t know why he is the way he is.”

“I think at some point in time we all have that thought about our parents. But your mom is as lovely as I expected. All the girls are, actually.”

His eyes shift over your shoulder and out of nowhere, he waves his arms to one side in a “shoo!” motion. You spin to see three feminine shadows scurry away from the window and swear you hear laughter.

“Your sisters are a ball of fun,” you step into Bucky, wrapping arms around his waist. His heartbeat is a little too fast under your ear but he eventually embraces you as well. “I had a nice time tonight, honey. Truly.”

“You sure?” He murmurs, tilting your chin up.

“I’m sure,” you nod, probably a little too eagerly.

Incredulous, he strokes your cheek with a finger. “How did I ever find you?” he presses his lips to your forehead.

“Do we really have to go over you almost dying again?”

His chest rumbles with laughter, the last of his shoulder tension dissipating.

“Get out of here!” Bucky shouts suddenly, startling you before realizing you’re not his intended target. This time, Rose, Evelyn, and Becca keep peeking through the drapes, tongues sticking out at their brother. “Sisters,” he scoffs before he grabs your hand and leads you down the street back to the subway station.

Chapter Thirteen

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#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes reader insert #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Fluff #Bucky Barnes series #All We've Got is Time #Chapter Twelve #beka writes

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Fragmentation 0.7 - KSJ

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,096

AN: On to Seokjin’s origin story of how he left The Matrix. I actually took inspiration from the animated short, Beyond, from The Animatrix. I always found it super fascinating that certain parts of The Matrix, much like a computer, experiences “glitches” from time to time. Especially in the earlier incarnations of it. All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seokjin tossed the apple in his hand lazily, lagging behind his friends as they chattered on about some “cool thing” they found. He didn’t understand why they were so adamant in dragging him out there, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Martin called and told him he didn’t need to come in for his shift today if he was fine with trading with him for that Sunday. As a teenage senior, he didn’t have much to really worry about as far as money. His parents were loaded. The only reason he had a job in the first place was his father wanted to teach him the “fundamental building blocks of living in society” and how to acclimate to said societal norms.

The truth? Seokjin was lazy at times and didn’t much care for responsibility on that level. With a successful chain of restaurants, stocks and bonds piling up in the bank, Seokjin didn’t have a care in the world. He could flit around and do as he pleased. The caveat? He had to maintain his grade point average and have a part-time job. If he couldn’t balance both his schoolwork and his actual job, then he didn’t deserve to inherit everything his father managed to build in his lifetime.

Easy money. Too easy. One day off on a said day when he didn’t feel like working, replacing said workday with a Sunday? The choice was obvious.

“Yo, Jin,” called Abbey, causing his mind to focus back on the current conversation he hadn’t been listening to in the first place, “it’s this way.”

He watched as Abbey, James and Elena motioned for him to follow through a narrow alleyway. The sun was bright and he couldn’t help but wonder why they were even doing this in the middle of the day. When it came to those three, they were always trying to get into some kind of mischief. Seokjin didn’t really think too much of it. Even if he got in trouble, he knew his mother would find a way to get him out of it.

What slivers of light existed quickly vanished within the dark shadows of the alley. They couldn’t enter in pairs - all trailing behind the other like little worker ants. Seokjin crunched into his apple, the sound bouncing off the walls of the small enclosure. They continued to chatter amongst each other, but Seokjin followed behind silently. He hadn’t been asked anything worth responding to and nothing of interest forced him to comment on it.

They were used to his lackluster attitude though.

As they breached the other side of the alley, he squinted from the sudden flood of light nearly blinding him. Abbey’s high-pitched giggle caught his interest. He shielded his face with his forearm, catching the image of James and Elena jumping into the air just in time. He didn’t quite understand what was so amusing…

...until he looked up and saw that Abbey was floating in the air.

“Whoa,” Seokjin murmured just as James did a somersault in the air - his motions slowed as if he were suspended in zero gravity, “what the hell?”

Elena laughed, her hair fanning out in the air as she hung upside down. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Seokjin nodded slowly, almost dropping the apple in his hand. “Yeah…”

“C’mon, Jin!” Abbey waved emphatically to him, spinning to the ground like a dancer from a dream. “You try it out!”

His eyes lingered around, spying all the various things in that section of the abandoned playground; a piece of a seemingly abandoned district. Rocks floated around, bouncing up and down in soft motions as if they were situated on an invisible river. Little bugs that attempted to fly off were slowed by whatever encompassed the space they were currently standing in. Seokjin could count the number of wings and how many times they flapped.

“What is this?” he asked, unsure of what this was and why he was even asking in the first place.

“We don’t know,” James answered with a shrug as he perched on the metal jungle gym, “but we figured it might have something to do with why this district got abandoned.”

He picked up one of the floating rocks, studied it, and then tossed it off to the side. The sound of it hitting the pavement caused him to turn and glance over his shoulder. The rock skittered off behind a barrel, hidden in its shadows where he wouldn’t bother looking. Canting his head slightly, he picked up another one of the floating rocks and threw it into the space where it occupied. For half a second, it zipped in at normal speed before slowing to a halt just inches away from James’ face.

“Hey!” he yelled, but Seokjin continued to look at the other rocks scattered along on the ground, “You could have hit me!”

Seokjin scoffed. “I doubt it.”

He tossed the apple into the air, watching it float along in the space - suspended in the air just outside of his reach.

Suddenly, there was a harsh sound resembling a record scratch that caught his attention. When he turned to face it, he saw that an old soda can seemed to be glitching in and out of focus. Seokjin’s eyes narrowed slowly, his feet moving toward it.

“Jin?” Abbey’s voice sounded concerned. “What is it?”

“You guys didn’t hear that?” He turned away from the can to look at his friends. “You guys didn’t hear that?”

All three of them shook their heads simultaneously. Had he been the only one to see it? To hear it?

But that’s crazy, he thought, his eyes moving back to the can, it was so loud and the fracture across the can is so obvious.

Or was it?

“Jin, you’re scaring us, dude,” chimed Elena, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. Not if they couldn’t see it.

But why could he see?

Like a bolt of lightning, the wails of sirens pierced through their tranquil setting. Flashes of red and blue illuminated their world. Seokjin looked around, his eyes widening as he quickly turned on his heels and scrambled a few steps back. His gaze shifted to the sky and he balked, seeing that it was suddenly dusk. When had it gotten that dark? They couldn’t have been there for more than an hour. Maybe less.

“We gotta go!” yelled Abbey, grabbing onto Seokjin’s wrist and pulling him away from the miniature wonderland.

Their sneakers pounded the pavement, kicking up dirt and scattered newspapers around them. James scrambled up a dumpster and grabbed for the handrailing of a fire escape. The girls followed suit and Seokjin knelt down to give Abbey a boost. Just as he was about to reach for her outstretched hand, flashlight beams all shined on him at once. Seokjin did his best to shield his eyes, backing away from where his friends were. Climbing up was too risky. He had to leave them and go off on his own.

“Look, I’ll catch up with you guys later!” he called up to them, pivoting on his heels and tearing off down the alleyway.

As his world got darker, Seokjin thought the alley was getting smaller and smaller. His breath came in quick intervals and he blinked rapidly against the sweat threatening to seep into his eyes. Just as he was about to reach the edge of the alley, an arm suddenly flung itself out of a window and grabbed him by his shoulders. He tried to scream, but all he could taste was leather as a hand covered his mouth - the rest of his body being dragged into the building through the opening.

Fear clutched at his chest, squeezing it slowly. Darkness flooded his vision, rendering him unable to see as the rushed sound of footsteps thundered passed. When the noise faded away, Seokjin’s heart finally began to ease up. The owner of the hand and arm that dragged him into the building finally stood up, giving him room to finally breathe comfortably.

“That was close,” said the person, her voice distinctly feminine.

Seokjin took a moment to get a good look at her, her dirty blonde hair framing her face while the rest of it was pulled back through the hole in the back of her ball cap. A cheeky grin etched her features. Her shorts were provocatively short, muscled legs covered in thigh high stockings that disappeared into a pair of combat boots. Her upper body showed off her toned midriff, the rest covered in a denim jacket and black tank top. She didn’t look much older than him, from what he could tell.

He frowned. “Who the hell are you?”

“Does it matter?” She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t know anyway, would you?”

Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t make it any less irritating. It was clear that she knew something that he didn’t and considering the situation he just barely escaped from (barring her help), that was something that didn’t sit well with him. Not by a long shot.

“Why’d you help me?”

If he didn’t know better, he swore he saw her grin get just a little bit bigger.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

A cold sweat prickled along the back of his neck. Instead of answering, he chose to swallow the lump in his throat. Apparently, that was all the response she needed. Chuckling more to herself than to the information he’d unintentionally given away, she shook her head slightly.

“Well, it’s a good thing I swung by when I did.”

Seokjin’s frown deepened, if possible, and he took a step toward her. “Just what in the hell is going on?”

She unfolded her arms, stuffing her hands into her pockets. She fished around in both until one came out. She held her fist out to him, urging him to come forward. When he did, she lofted a brow, waiting for him to do something else. Not sure what she was wanting, Seokjin held out his palm.

Opening her fist, she dropped a small, silver case into his hand. Curious, he popped open the box and inside were two pills. One blue, the other red. Was she trying to drug him?

Just as he opened his mouth to question her, he saw the girl holding a cell phone up to her ear.

“Stand by for pickup.”

Seokjin had about as much as he could stand. “Hey! What’s the big idea? You tryna kidnap me or some shit?”

The girl frowned, craning her neck slowly to glare at him. “You’re the idiot that doesn’t even realize he’s already trapped.”

He blinked, not sure why hearing that struck a nerve. What did that even mean?

“If you want to know the answer behind that little gravity show you and your friends were messin’ with, take the red pill. You wanna forget about it and go back to your normal boring life, then take the blue pill. Choice is yours, Buttercup.”

Seokjin’s eyes lingered back to the pills. He couldn’t forget what he’d experienced. His friends thought it was just some weird phenomenon and, honestly, if he hadn’t seen the can glitch out, he might have chalked it up to that as well. But too many things didn’t add up. How had the police shown up so quickly and when had time shifted that fast in a space where it only felt like he’d been there for no more than an hour?

Grasping the red pill between his thumb and forefinger, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed. The girl’s grin returned and he watched her hang up the phone and slip it back into her pocket. In the dark and dusty building they were in, the walls inked over in black as flickers of green numbers seemed to explode along the walls. Seokjin’s ears started ringing to the point where they hurt and he clutched at them with both hands, dropping the case and the remaining blue pill. He felt a hand on his shoulder as it squeezed it gently.

“You gotta breathe,” she said, her voice a distant whisper against the roaring sound of his blood rushing through his ears, “just take a deep breath. It’ll be over quick.”

And as he took a breath, everything blurred over in a haze of green, black and gray. Until there was nothing left. It was quiet; peaceful. But somehow he knew that this was only the beginning.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

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xavantina · 5 years

Text

I got my hands on a copy of the new Euroman for @idontfindyouthatinteresting, and I took the opportunity to translate some of the interview as well. I tried scanning the article, but my scanner is broken, so you’ll have to make due with iPhone pics of the photos until someone with a working scanner gets in the game.

Rest of the photos and the interview under the cut.

The interview itself was a monster of a thing with lots and lots of flowery descriptions of random scenery, so I cut it down to just the questions, though a few highlights of the rest include:

When he was knighted the Queen of Denmark told him she liked Flame and Citron and he was like ‘fuck yeah’.

He rolls up with his classic bedroom eyes, mismatched tracksuit, and worn sneakers, and just needs a smoke before they go in.

The reporter thinks it’s pointless for a hairdresser to style Mads’ hair because it’s amazing already.

Mads goes around introducing himself to everyone in the room with “Hi. My name is Mads.”

He speaks very fast in Danish.

Onward with the questions:

Q. You were an unknown dancer for ten years before you became an actor. In terms of staying grounded, has it been an advantage for you that you had your breakthrough at such a mature age?

A. Yes, I think so. I probably wouldn’t have had problems staying grounded even if I had been 20 years old. But I think it’s harder for a 17-year-old today, where you can have your breakthrough on a whole different platform and gain three million followers, or whatever the hell they have. It’s obvious that if everyone thinks you’re cool, and you’re told so a bit too often, then you start thinking ‘yeah, I am. I’m cool’. It’s easier to handle being recognized in the street when you’re 32, than when you’re 17. I think.

Q. Your James Bond co-star Jesper Christensen has said that he can no longer enter a public space and just sit there observing, because everyone is always staring at him. He can no longer gain inspiration for his work from real life– from ‘ordinary people’ – like he used to. Do you feel the same way?

A. It’s a terrible loss. It’s not that I’ve always been preparing to be an actor, but I’ve always been curious. Even as a child, I would sit in different places and watch what was happening over there, human behavior, the way they looked and the way they walked. Always. And too often I started copying people when I saw them. I would sit just like them for a while, just to try how it felt. That’s over now. Whenever I’m out somewhere, 50 people are sitting around staring at me. Then I have to worry about scratching my nose, and there’s 40 camera phones in my face. Then I have to go to a different country.

Q. Don’t you get recognised abroad?

A. They know me around the world to various degrees. There are definitely many places where they don’t care at all, but James Bond, Star Wars, and Marvel movies, all of which I’ve starred in, have a great reach. The happy result of this is that people become curious about me as an actor, so I’m often stopped abroad because people know me from The Green Butchers or The Hunt. That’s super cool.

Q. Is it important for you to get recognition in the business? And do you?

A. A foreign colleague whom I have great respect for told me that he and three friends would sit down and watch the Pusher trilogy every weekend. That made me happy. Recognition from colleagues is important. Recognition from yourself is just much more important. You can get into a cycle where you go around constantly patting each other on the back because you need it so badly in my line of work. We’re judged all the time. It’s really hard, and so we probably have a tendency to praise each other more than we should. You should be happy when other people think what you’re doing is great, but you need to remember to consider what you think about it personally. ‘Was this what I wanted? Yes, okay, fine. Next time I might go in this direction instead.’ That’s important. And it’s the same if what people are saying about you sucks. There are many opinions out there. And if you start reading on social media you’ll never get to bed. You should stay away from that.

Q. Where do you find material and inspiration when you can’t go people-watching anymore? Do you have a memory bank you draw from?

A. Probably. I can also sit and watch people on screen, television and so on. But inspiration should primarily come from the script and the director. But I really miss sitting around and watching other people, and I certainly miss them not staring at me. I don’t try to hide though, I never wear a cap or anything. Sunglasses annoy the hell out of me, so I don’t use those at all. Luckily I‘m forgetful: I walk outside in the morning and don’t spend a second wondering how it’s going to be when I arrive somewhere – whether I’ll be recognized, I mean. That’s not just something I’m saying. I get in my car and drive somewhere and enter wherever I’m going, and don’t think about it at all. It’s not until people do this (Mads widens his eyes and turns his head) and do a double check that I’m reminded what it’s like. And that’s good, because otherwise I’d never leave the house.

Q. But you haven’t always been famous – in Hollywood you were a total unknown in the beginning. As the unknown from a small country did you have to work to earn the respect from people around you when you did your first foreign films?

A. I never consciously considered that I had to do something to make them listen to me. If I thought something could be done differently, I haven’t been afraid of going up to people and telling them. Obviously it’s not like it is in Denmark where I can just call Thomas Vinterberg up and say ‘hey, I just had an idea, won’t you come over?’ A Hollywood director on a big movie has maybe 30 actors on his list and everybody wants something from him, so the scale is different. But I still speak up, if there’s something wrong, and only if I’m serious about it. If I’m not serious about it, we just start working on whatever we’re doing.

Q. Are you treated differently on set now that you’re a bigger star?

A. Yes. I was very surprised with first time I was part of a large foreign production. We were on set, and I approached someone from the light-crew to ask about something. Then he looked down at the ground and didn’t answer. Turns out there had been this big name actor, whose name I can’t be bothered to mention, who had just done a movie with this crew, and the crew was under strict orders to never look this actor in the eyes. So there I was, a product of all this. Those were the kind of things I had to get used to. Luckily I found out that if I just focused on my work in the same way I usually did my surroundings would relax pretty quickly. They care more about things abroad than they do in Denmark. I’ve had some pretty weird experiences on foreign jobs. For example, I’m often assigned a so-called handler. Someone who meets me at the airport and helps with checking in and stuff like that. Which is fine, if you’re in Beijing and your have no idea where you’re going. But on foreign gigs I’ve also tried being a assigned a handler at Copenhagen Airport, who is supposed to follow me and help me. That’s pretty absurd, since I’ve checked in 2000 times before in Copenhagen and know how to do it. A handler is always dressed really nicely too, so everybody at the airport ends up staring at me even more. That’s a weird service.

Q. How about the treatment you receive from the other stars, or the business as a whole? How do you experience the hierarchy in Hollywood?

A. When I worked with Benedict Cumberbatch in Doctor Strange and with Daniel Craig in Casino Royale it was their first big films as well, so the hierarchy wasn’t crazy. I’ve been spared from meeting someone abroad who was a real hot shot or just tired of doing what they were doing. There are plenty of people with attitude, plenty of large personalities, but I’ve met very few proper divas who are impossible to work with. The few I have met have been here at home. It’s actually a myth, that this is a diva business. If you did an inquiry and compared us to bus drivers or doctors for example, I think actors would rate much lower than them on the diva-scale. We’re very conscious about not behaving like divas, so everyone tries to act natural. Nobody wants to be branded like that. And when one finally comes along, which obviously happens, then it’s so exciting, and it sounds like the whole business is infected with them. But holy shit, man, how many little kings in their little kingdoms have you met driving the 8 Line?

Q. Your generation, which had its breakthrough 20-25 years ago, has taken up a lot of space back here at home and internationally. You’ve become…

A. You can say ‘old’. We’ve gotten bloody old.

Q. Has it only now become clear how much space you take up?

A. No. I think it was obvious from the beginning. We were a generation that grew up with a big fascination for certain foreign films. Many of us had Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola in common. There weren’t’ many Danish films we could relate to. [here follows a whole bit about Danish movie history that no one outside Denmark will care about, so I’m skipping it] We felt like we were living in the 50’s. We were watching foreign movies like ‘Taxi Driver’ and saying to each other ‘is this from 1975?’ What have we done in Denmark this year? It was crazy. Completely crazy. Obviously something had to be done. And it was. We grew in different directions but suddenly the gap wasn’t so wide… I mean, we were no longer being told what it was like to be a teenager by an 88 year old director. We were the same age and we communicated directly. Just like Scorsese and De Niro in the 70’s. Same age, let’s go, rock’n’roll. Obviously it’s hard for the next generation, who comes after us, to just change things as well. Because we did the right thing. So now they either have to copy that approach, or improve it, or come up with something completely new. It was easier for us, if I’m being honest. We said ‘Hey, have you seen this before?’ and people went ‘No, we haven’t. Cool!’ But we had to do it. And we were allowed to do it, first and foremost. Some things went wrong, some things went right. But it was really important.

Q. You and your brother both seem like you’re very down to earth. Is that a result of growing up on Nørrebro?

A. Yes, I guess. No… Where the fuck did Pilou (Asbæk) grow up? He has some higher ‘a’s than I do, when he taaaaalks. But he’s damn well down to earth too. So I think it’s a Danish thing. If you try to rise a bit above other people, it won’t be very long until you’re pulled back down.

Q. Have you tried it?

A. No. As a Danish person it’s very hard to demand only to be served the yellow M&Ms without people laughing at you.

Q. Can’t it be limiting, that we’re like that? That everything has to be so down to earth.

Pause.

A. It’s funny, because we’re different than the Swedish. They have a whole different way of engaging with their stars. The Swedish are down to earth too. But when Swedish actors sit down to talk like this, like I’m doing now, and a journalist enters the room, that they start (Mads straightens and adopt a somber tone) speaking like this. And the things they say become great philosophy. They also start to move (he waves his arm theatrically) like they were on stage at the Royal Theatre. When I see that I think ‘what the fuck just happened?’. The Swedish write with great reverence about their stars as well. They have a huge amount of respect for what they give us. Swedish stars have a whole different status in society than we do in Denmark. They like putting things up on a pedestal, and they’re allowed to do that in a totally different way then we are. You can’t do that here. And thank God for that. But you can also say, that in Denmark you don’t always respect people for what they can do. Sometimes people will go ‘Fuck man, I can do what Caroline Wozniacki does. She’s the worst I’ve ever seen.’ Okay? I mean, it’s nice that we’re down to earth in Denmark. But it’s grotesque to say that ‘What Wozniacki does, I can do just as well.’

So that’s how I spent the last five hours of my life...

#Mads Mikkelsen #translation

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mrdanielbond · 5 years

Text

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 4)

“Duck? Swann? Same thing.”

[James Bond X Reader]

Plot; She’s here. Bond’s girlfriend has finally arrived. Dr Madeleine Swann. Don’t they make the perfect hot couple? Well...after spending some ‘quality’ time with James’ new girlfriend, unfortunately, you already find her the most irritable person you have ever had the displeasure of sitting in the same room with….

[Word Count; 4000+ ]

[Y/N - Your Name]

[Y/L/N - Your Last Name]

[Warnings? Does a crazy girlfriend count?]

[A/N; It’s back- God knows how many times I suffered through a brain fart because if this. But on the bright side, Madeleine’s character is a blend of her in Spectre and inspiration from others. Also Jonathan, the new friend is an actor you can imagine just to open things up for you! You’ll see more of him soon! I really do hope you enjoy this! ]

1 Week Before…

“Come on Y/N. Sit with me.” James said as he shifted aside on his bed.

He had been working on a case to do with a Turkish terror threat for a while now and the case had proved to show some difficulties. It was 9.00 pm and you could see Bond was slightly frustrated with the way his shirt was untucked, sleeves rolled up and slightly unbuttoned, his tie had been thrown to one side, he didn’t really care how he had looked, especially in front of his flatmate half the time. You didn’t care how you looked either, in a long t-shirt and a pair of leggings beneath, you were starting to feel more comfortable in the flat almost over eight months in. You both had been getting a lot closer - well in the eyes of others, you two made more snarky remarks to each other as a way of ‘respect’ or some form of friendship.

“Are you’re scared I’m going to bite?” He remarked.

“In all the wrong places.” You teased. “You have no idea…” You mumbled that part to yourself quietly.

“Come on. I won’t bite.”

“No touching.” You said with a stern tone in your voice.

“No touching.” He repeated with his hands up.

“I’m being serious.”

“I’m not going to do anything Sir.” He laughed, “I just want you to look at this case with me that’s all...Unless you’re uncomfortable with that.”

“Please. I’m the one who does the uncomfortable making, not you.” You said as you sat next to him, leaning against the headboard and looked at the photographs of the terror suspect.

You two sat together talking about the case for over an hour and you realised, you hadn’t been this close to James ever. And for the first time ever, there were no flirtatious jokes - well he managed to slip in one or two but he really did want your help. He turned to you, smiling once you’d both finally stopped talking.

“So just out of curiosity, do you think you will ever divorce your husband?”

“Way to drop in the question.” You laughed, “And why are you asking? So you can try and jump into my bed and prove you don’t go around sleeping with married women?”

“No.” Bond chuckled shaking his head, “I’ll wait two weeks after.”

You turned, glaring at him, prepared to jump out of the bed and make a run for it, “I’m joking! It’s a genuine question. You two aren’t even a couple so you’d understand why I’d ask that question.”

“Well, I don't know. I’ve just been too lazy.”

“But what if you weren’t feeling lazy?”

“I can’t imagine myself being bothered enough though.”

“God you’re annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s almost attractive.”

“Not happening James.”

“Got it.” There was a silent pause before he continued, “So did you love him?”

“At one point, yeah. But it’s just I think we see each other more as friends.”

“Uh oh. That’s the kind of thing you say once you’ve had a break up.” He laughed.

“No. I told you what happened. We had to move away to different places and just grew distant. Had no time to talk to each other about anything or even bothered to see each other down the line.” You looked down at your hands with a sigh, James was genuinely interested. He listened to your every word when you opened up about your marriage, it was almost an odd therapy session.

“So, same time next week? This time a little less talk and more action?”

“In your dreams.”

“Fine. Playing hard to get, you won’t be able to handle this anyway.” He winked, looking down.

“Handle what? There’s nothing to handle, not even downstairs.” James became stunned as you slipped out of his bed smiling, was he trying to undress you with his eyes?

“Oh and don’t stare too long, you have a girlfriend.”

“What girlfriend?” He said, enjoying the view behind you.

***

The evening in Chelsea had finally hit and during winter especially, nothing could defeat the feeling of soaking up the warmth of the flat, being on the couch wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and some popcorn with (your favourite show) on television, James’ light blue shirt and your PJ bottoms. To set the record straight, you had always borrowed his shirts for experiments in the labor at home and never returned them but this was a different case. Your laundry had stacked exponentially and the clothes you had left were down to the ugliest t shirt and bottoms you owned, which you were not willing to put on at all, especially when you’re living with someone like James who knew how to tease. So on your day off, you had to get that sorted immediately. Today was your day off and you appreciate it more than anything. A day away from James and his ridiculous saga with Q, which still you haven’t been able to divorced from (your laziness had increased by a milestone since you moved to London) and had the displeasure of being the centre of it. Today was definitely a break. From Bond and all his questions, his flirtatious tricks and from Q and his snarky remarks. James was out working as usual, considering he was ‘Mr. 24/7’ and had to be alert all the time - something about a debriefing had to take place, you couldn’t remember. It’s evidently clear you aren’t one to listen to what James is usually up to at work.

Just when you thought you were going to spend the entire night like this, binge watching your favourite television show, that thought was immediately defeated by the sound of the door unlocking. James stepped in and noticed you resting comfortably on the couch.

“Oh hello.” He mumbled quietly, noticing you in a change of clothes, “This is the most comfortable I’ve ever seen you in the flat.” His rich voice caught your attention instantly. You turned to him and casually ate popcorn, giving him a slight shrug.

“I live here too, don’t I?” You responded with a proud smirk. “Better take advantage of what I have.”

“That being my shirt? Not that I’m saying it looks bad on you.” He smirked too, except his eyes were on you completely, eyeing the way you were dressed in particular to his fascination.

“What? I had to call the plumber to fix the washing machine.”

“Really? A plumber? You should’ve told me that the washing machine had a problem.”

“You’ve been really busy as of late I couldn’t disturb you being on that case for a washing machine and what would you have done? Shown your manly skills off in front of me?”

“If you wanted me to, I could’ve made time to help you out and who knows? I don’t even think a washing machine would even have to be involved. I could just show you what it does.” He winked. The man was at it again, he was at his flirtatious jokes once again, yet this time you had no remark or form of response to that. You simply shook your head, knowing he wasn't going to give up.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, as James appriciated the way you looked, especially in his shirt, it was almost - attractive in a way. The way your hair was let down to one side, while you were practically covered in two blankets, one being James’ shirt almost completely covering more than just your arms and the actual blanket itself. It was almost tempting for him to join you.

See the emphasis on the almost? Here’s where Bond stops himself in his tracks…

Footsteps came from behind him and entered the flat. A woman with flowing blonde hair and a slim figure stood beside James, with a long expensive coat, under that an all black outfit, black blouse and trousers and you could’ve sworn you saw a pair of Louis Vuitton heels and handbag. Shit. An upper class snobby woman had just casually walked in wearing - was that - were those - Bond’s Tom Ford sunglasses? You quickly took your phone and cursed yourself realising what day it was. Shit. It was MONDAY. And you knew what that meant. Bond’s girlfriend, Madeleine Swann was standing before you. Something inside you wanted to poke and prod her, see if she really was as snobby as your assumptions believed her to be - you were just that type of person or maybe she dressed to impress for him. James does have a love for dressing lavishly in suits. In fact, you may or may not have been ruining a £500 shirt at this current present moment in time. Though you’ve seen him dress completely different to that and you considered those his best days, so you weren’t embarrassed to be dressed so casually in front of her. She looked around the flat for a moment, with a smile on her face, impressed by the sight. Then she turned to you and slowly took her sunglasses off with a curious look on her face. She then looked at James then back at you, confused.

“Oh right!” Bond ended the silence quickly, “Sorry. Y/N this is Dr Madeleine Swann. Madeleine this is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s one of the forensic investigators who works on the same branch with us sometimes. Mainly when a body is involved. Oh and she’s my flatmate.” He looked at the both of you, eagerly smiling.

Dr of what? You thought. Perfecting the sciences and study behind the resting bitch face? How you wanted to say something smart to test her, and it wasn’t even because you were jealous, it was just because of the way she looked at you. But then again, maybe that’s the way she normally looked, so you had to give her a chance and held your tongue. You rose from the couch and extended your hand, “Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She paused, looking at your hand for a moment, you could’ve sworn that was a dirty look, “And I’ve heard very little about you.” She said in a more serious tone. She then laughed it off and shook your hand after a short pause.

“Nice shirt.” She remarked.

“Why thank you, I do know a thing or two about dressing appropriately for the occasion, especially in the comfort of my own flat. What’s the point of dressing as if I was going to meet the Queen all the time? Would be quite painful, especially for the people around me.”

She scoffed and turned to Bond with a smile, “James, with the way you described your flatmate, I thought he would’ve been some dirty, greasy, big man, who works as a bouncer at a nightclub. I didn’t know you were staying with a woman after all you’ve told me.” She smiled.

You were tempted to spit the remainder of your hot everage on her expensive shoes. Well that was rude. But then a thought crossed your mind...

Woman. Now that’s what offended her. The fact that you were a woman living with her boyfriend as flatmates - when you put it that way, any jealous girlfriend would’ve thought this was the perfect scenario. Then again, what competition did she have? If James was to describe you to anyone, you could’ve sworn he would’ve used the word ‘sociopathic’ considering that’s how you were and that was a definite turn off for him. Plus did she just call you a dirty big guy? You were sure to have words with James after that, but for now you had to be a kind host, make the woman you would gladly never see again welcome into your shared flat.

“Yeah, she’s a woman. Did I mention that to you? I swear I did.” He chuckled to himself.

“Baby, is that one of your shirts?” Madeleine turned to James holding his hand tightly, with an innocent look in her eyes.

“Uh yeah, it’s - the laundry ran low so I let her borrow one of mine.”

“Really? Was she so poor that she couldn’t go out and buy something else other than borrow someone’s boyfriend’s things and claim it as theirs? I mean doesn’t she have a husband to borrow things from?”

“Unbelievable. You told her didn’t you?” You asked Bond, who kept his eye on Madeleine, in particular her lips.

He then turned to look at your direction and noticed that you were uncomfortable and felt insulted, simply through the fake smile ‘death’ glare you had given him. You wrapped up your blanket and picked up your cup.

“Please, make yourself feel at home.” You said, keeping your piece and headed to the kitchen to put it away. There you were with your manners, you so wanted to completely annihilate her with insults there and then, starting with the way she walked in like the flat was hers, but if anything, you were taught by your close university friends not to take that road so quickly. You left James and Madeleine to talk alone while you washed your cup.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

You heard from James. He walked into the kitchen and leaned his back against the counter so he could see you clearly. “So, what do you think?”

“What do I think of what?” You asked, finally finishing with the washing and dried your cup with a dish towel.

“You know what I’m asking. Y/N, you’re a very intelligent and capable woman but sometimes I think you purposely decide to have a dreadfully slow mind for the sake of being ironic.”

“Do I?” You gasped sarcastically, “Says the one who can’t catch up with the fact that his girlfriend is a slight stuck up bitch.” You mumbled low enough for him not to hear.

“What was that?” He asked.

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head, “I’m sorry I was just saying that I don’t have an opinion on what you just asked because my dreadfully slow mind would need time to process all of this. Come back to me tomorrow when I finally am able to keep up with you.”

“Y/N…” He said with a stern tone in his voice. “What do you think of Madeleine?”

“Oh you’re talking about the doctor - by the way what does she have a PHD in? I’d like to know, so my dreadfully slow mind doesn’t find itself in the predicament of finding the answer out from her.”

“Are you jealous?” He smiled.

“Jealous of who?” You laughed, practically in hysterics, “Bro, I think she’s an absolute charmer and I can’t wait for the day you start to pull your hair out because she’s driving you crazy - I mean crazily in love with her. I mean it’s already happening with me.” You said and quickly moved passed James, “Try not to make too much noise. Good night.” You said as you walked down the hall.

Morning had arrived and you knew that Madeleine was here. You just knew she would be, especially with the time she arrived at the flat. You were in no mood to see her and James, only because if that was what you were facing for an entire day, you’d rather work a full day, then overtime, then overtime that overtime. There was something about her. Something off about her. Her clinginess to James, the way she eyed you as if you were competition, the way you dressed, well maybe she was having a rough night. So you tried to brush away the thoughts and took a shower, heading into the front room to find James and Madeleine stood in the kitchen - together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he was in just a robe and she was in a nightgown, she couldn’t keep his hands off him, constantly kissing him as if it was the last time they saw each other.

“Oh gross.” You said, walking straight into the kitchen, you squint your eyes, disgusted and tried to make yourself some toast when you heard Madeleine giggling and Bond mumbling something in his deep voice. These two were not teenagers! Fuck it. You thought. You quickly drank your orange juice and grabbed your toast, heading for the door.

“Y/N? Where you going?” James finally asked, letting go of Madeleine and aware that you were about to leave.

“Work.”

“But I thought you don’t have work today.” He said. Madeleine turned to you, moving his arms around her waist once more and looking at you with a smile.

“Now I do.” You responded. “I just think working is much better than doing nothing - you know - watching a wet blanket cling on to some old tool or teddy bear.” You said closing the door behind you. God that was gross. The remark itself made you smile, but you were still annoyed you couldn’t have the day in peace.

You kept yourself busy, catching up/texting a new friend of yours, Jonathan. You both met at a bar, while you were out with colleagues and had gotten to know each other better ever since. He was comfortable to be around, easygoing and hella handsome if you could say so yourself. After that you were sent to a crime scene, as part of an emergency to collect different samples for a double murder. Bond and his clingy girlfriend ceased to exist in your mind by the time you were off busy. However, by the time you returned home a few hours later, there was something off you sensed. You headed into the flat and suddenly realised there was a change. You looked around and found all the furniture in odd places, the television had moved into a strange area, far away from the window, the dining table was distanced all the way to the front door but the thing that ticked you off the most...your chemistry set moved.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” You shouted, seeing Madeleine move some more of the furniture around the flat.

“Oh hi!” She jumped and turned to see you with a smile but then she sensed your slight anger and frowned, “Sorry, James and I thought the flat could do with a little feng-shui, a change to feel a fresh breath of air.” She said swaying her long, expensive skirt towards you. God you were fuming, you felt the heat starting to boil inside you, your anger rapidly grew, it was getting harder and harder not to plant your fist into the wall.

“I’m currently choking in this air created by stupidity right now.” You growled, “Sorry, who said you could touch my equipment?”

“James.” She said looking down to her feet innocently, “He said that it was perfectly fine to move things for the sake of making room if that was going to make all of us feel more comfortable and at home.”

“Did he now?” You raised your eyebrow and balled your hands into a fist, your breathing grew quick and sharp, attempting not to stab Madeleine with your piercing glare.

“I had to.” Bond said as he walked in with a two cups of coffee, one for him and one for Madeleine, “You could do with a change, your work is cluttered everywhere. Madeleine said that such a mess brings negativity into the flat. She also said that it was good for the vibes in the flat and a positive home definitely brings a positive mind.”

“Who the fuck is she? A fucking monk? Don’t you presume to tell me about negativity when you kill people for a living!” You raised your voice, it was impossible not to rage, especially at the woman in front of you, who had irritated you in record breaking time. There were things you got angry about. Even though you were a sarcastic individual but one thing that ticked you off was when someone messed with your work. That was crossing the line, which she did.

“Y/N, oh my god I’m so sorry. Look if you don't like the way the flat is, I’ll put everything back.” She began hyperventilating in front of Bond, who began to glare at you as he rubbed her back.

“Yes that is what I want and I don’t want you to touch my shit again, that would be great. When are you leaving again?”

“Y/N…” He said sternly.

“What?!” You hissed at Bond.

“There’s no need to take out your anger out on Madeleine, she was just trying to help! You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“I’M DOING WHAT?” Your voice raised even louder, in disbelief.

“Y/N, A word please.” Bond said, as Madeleine looked at the two awkwardly. She began sniffling, which you thought was complete and utter bullshit then stormed off into the kitchen as James spoke to Madeleine.

“I was just trying to help…” She said, frowning, in a timid and terrified voice.

“It’s fine, love. I’ll get this sorted.” He kissed her cheek and gestured her to sit down then followed you into the kitchen.

You stood staring out at the window, holding both hands on the counter and looked down trying your best to slow your breathing as Bond watched you from behind, annoyed. He then headed over to you and flipped you around to look at him with a hard tug on the shoulder.

“What was the meaning of that?!” He asked.

“That was rude! Don’t grab my fucking shoulder!” You shoved his hand off it and almost went to hit him but you stopped yourself, glaring at him with your hands balled into fists, “You know I told you in confidence that I was married, you know that my work is very important to me, YOU KNOW that when you have a visitor in this flat they are YOUR responsibility and as your responsibility you make sure that no one touches my stuff! So why on earth did you let Dr Mindful Duck touch my chemistry set and files!”

“Her name is Madeleine and it’s not duck, it’s Swann.”

There was a silence between the two of you. You were both extremely close to each other and you felt the walls closing in on the both of you. The tension was there. The anger was definitely there. The sharp breathing and deadly sound of silence took over the kitchen for a brief moment before you said...

“Fuck you.” You spat, squinting your eyes in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to get this angry! You being married to Q isn’t even a big deal, why are you complaining about it!”

“It’s not just that James. Who knows what kind of stuff you said about me behind my back! I thought we were friends! Friends don’t describe their friends to other people as a dirty, greasy nightclub bouncer do they? What have you said behind my back actually?”

“Nothing Y/N! I’ve said nothing!” He sighed, “Look, I know you don’t like your things being moved and I’ll deal with that myself. I’ll put it back. Just please go and apologise to Madeleine.”

“And why would I do that?!”

“Because you haven’t been nice to her or given her a chance the moment she walked through the door!” He hissed, “Here’s the reason you are struggling to make new friends, have you considered not being a complete arse from the beginning and trying to be friendly for once! Madeleine hasn’t been in London a minute and hardly knows her way around! She is out to impress you and you don’t even appreciate what she’s doing for you! You’re making life really difficult for me Y/N and I seriously don’t appreciate it when my own flatmate is butting heads with my girlfriend!”

Before you could come up with a smart remark, you smiled, “You know what? I’ll apologise. I’ll go and make yours and everyone else’s life easier and say sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t be an arse and give people a chance…”

“Really? Thank you.” He said, relieved and smiling. “And I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I know it was wrong. I just want you two to get along. It’s really important you do.” He extended his hand, “No hard feelings?”

You looked at his hand, shaking your head, “No thank you. I don’t know where’s that been. And besides, you don’t want to shake hands with someone that is a complete arse,” You nudged passed him, and he rolled his eyes, sighing deeply, “Christ…”

The moment you stepped back into the front room, Madeleine jumped from her seat, waiting to hear from you. “So Madison-”

“It’s Madeleine.” She corrected quickly.

“Yeah - same thing. I’m sorry for being a dick, I know I can overreact sometimes and don’t really care about the other person’s feelings as much, which is awful…” You turned around and found James watching you expectantly with his arms folded, “I just wanted to say, I’m willing to start over if you are.” You smiled.

“That would be great! Thank you so much!” She said smiling, relieved and hugged you quickly, in which you didn’t respond to it, leaving your arms by your side. She really was an off person. You pushed away for a moment smiling - well you were actually freaked out by her strange behaviour, “Well, I’m just going to sort a few things out.” You turned around slowly and walked down the hall, “James I expect my shit back on the table otherwise tomorrow isn’t going to be fun for anyone.”

And with that, you left the two alone again.

“Is she always like that?” Madeleine asked James, who looked at your direction, watching you walk into your room with a smile.

“Unfortunately, she is. But don’t worry there's more to her beneath the surface.” He practically smirked, with his hands in his pockets.

“Excuse me?” She said, disapprovingly.

“What? Nothing.” He turned to her smiling and moved his arm around her waist, “I meant she’s more of an open person if you get to know her and much more friendlier.”

#007 #british #fanfic #daniel craig #james bond #james bond 007 #literature #mi6 #casino royale #fanfiction #london #movie #spy #books

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1800pizzagirl · 5 years

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Vanderpump Rules, Season 7, Recap #16

I was inspired by Scheana tonight to make a pan of enchiladas like in last week’s episode of Vanderpump Rules. As I was stuffing each flour tortilla shells with the enchilada gloop, I was struck at how labor intensive it was for Scheana to make 7 aluminum steaming pans for her friends. That must have taken her hours! Maybe even 15 hours worth of television time, as long as we’ve watched the opening of TomTom this season

The moment is finally here, the opening of TomTom. We’re all like the old Rose in Titanic reminiscing about how it’s been “82 years” at this point but it’s finally here. Tom and Ariana are getting ready, Tom is wearing a funny beanie. Tom and Katie are also getting ready and Katie starts to talk about how she feels neglected; which, after seeing the preview for this episode, we know that they’re going to have a big fight about this in Mexico, but they have to set it up.

Tom Sandoval spent $18,000 on a custom motorcycle and sidecar for the TomTom opening. As Ariana put it, he looks like “James Bond in a Wes Anderson movie”. He thought of everything, the gloves, the custom helmets and the tiny no-show socks but oops, he forgot to fill up his gas tank. The editing of Tom and Tom riding on the motorcycle was brilliant and goofy. Tom Schwartz just looks like someone who should always be in a sidecar.

The VPR cast got a special table at TomTom, but there wasn’t room for Scheana who had to sit at the kids table with her “bestie” Adam. Brittany is still recovering from an ulcer and decides that slowly drinking a chilled shot of tequila will be the best for her fragile stomach. Katie is tugging at Tom Schwartz’s sleeve like a 5-year-old girl trying to get accessories for her Barbie Dream House from her parents.

Lisa decides to confront Lala about her argument at SUR during the opening of TomTom. Of course, Lala lies, I would, but Scheana doesn’t and now Lala looks like a big liar and James looks like an innocent, bambi-eyed angel.

How wise is it for Tom Sandoval to take Lisa Vanderpump AKA Queen Bee AKA the most valuable cargo on a motorcycle on a night he’s probably been guzzling down his own boozy cocktails?

Finally, the TomTom opening is behind us and we can all move on with our lives. As the cast is packing for Mexico, Beau gives Stassi a shot of tequila dressed up in a T-Rex costume. During this time, we find out from Stassi that Beau has promised to go down on her if she has a “birthday-style meltdown” which is both iconic and insane.

Speaking of meltdown, Kristen plans on being cool as a cucumber on this Mexico trip. Considering how Katie is about to explode at Tom Schwartz, I believe it this time. I would feel jealous too if my boyfriend got upgraded to first class and I didn’t but it wouldn’t put me into a rage. Like it’s just a two-hour flight. I’d rather watch “Eat, Pray, Love”, eat some pretzels and pay for some shitty house wine than interact with anyone on a place.

Back in LA, James has to hang out with Max . Max has always seemed like a totally normal and balanced person and he doesn’t fit in with the cast because he’s not crazy. I like that James was rewarded by his dad for his sobriety by drinking a beer.

The episode ends in Mexico where Katie and Tom Schwartz had a vintage Tom and Katie fight. There’s a part of me that understands Katie’s frustration with Tom, it feels shitty to have to fight for the attention of your partner because they have the attention span of a Labrador Retriever. Yet, when an annoyance gets built up like that and fueled by alcohol, everything just gets worse and worse. I think we can all agree that Tom Schwartz needs to pay more attention to Katie, but also that Katie needs to put a lid on the outburst. They could have easily talked about this without fighting, but fortunately for us, and Tom and Ariana as their neighbors, we get to see it all go down.

Until next week where the Mexico trip resumes, my five faithful readers. XOXO.

#vanderpump rules #vanderpump rules season 7 #reality tv #recap #pop culture

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cosmetologynerd · 6 years

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Letters - Steve x Reader

Hey guys! So I was very very very far down my Steve feels this last week and like I said, I was working on a long one for ya! I think this is the longest thing I have ever written; not just on tumblr. But in my whole life. I wanted to leave this as one long piece rather than doing multiple parts, simply because of the gravity of the story being told.

I hope you guys enjoy and please leave comments, I read them all, even all the tags when you guys reblog. They warm my heart more than you guys know.

Summary: Your relationship with Steve grows and changes as he does, your letters keeping you in contact while he's off on missions. (Inspired by this song)

Word Count: 8,432 (holy moly guys I def did not mean for that to happen whoops)

Permanent tags: @hollandroos @spider-bih @rileywrites-parker @loveislikeabook @petersmoonlight @karatyra @charlotteh10 @okaythor @caffeinated–writer @midtownsparker @ashleykh @thatcraxygirl15 @bluenekox3 @everythingthatisrandom @nextkaratekid @brujaescarlota @underoosie @spiderling–parker @steelbarnes @khai-day-the-13th @babyykeexx @jellzu @imaginecrushes @sophiealiice @h-osterfield @holland-ish @negative-love @beautifullybarnes @captainrogerss

Tags for Letters: @mrssierrarogers @mallyallyandra @marvelandstuff @projectxhappiness @hereiamhereigo

Strike means tumblr wouldnt let me tag you

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list shoot me a message here.

Solider keep on marching on

They were your best friends. Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes had been in your life since you were about four years old, and you thanked your lucky stars every single day that your parents had moved to Brooklyn.

Steve always followed in Bucky’s footsteps, much to your displeasure. Steve couldn’t keep up, yet he was determined to prove everyone wrong. His whole life, he was always too sick or too small or too anything that Bucky wasn’t. He hated it, and he always used to tell you that he would be just like Bucky one day.

When Bucky enlisted in the army at the height of the war, your heart had broken. You feared his return, feared what might happen to him. But this was Bucky. He would be strong. He would survive.

Then, Steve came to your apartment one night, late, after his double date with Bucky. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He entered your home slowly, like he was nervous to tell you something. But before he could second guess his actions, the words spilled from his mouth. “I got in. I’m going to serve. Bucky told me not to, of course, so don’t blame him. I got in.”

He looked so proud, so excited, so happy. But you, oh, you died inside. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your head spun, not grasping the reality of what he was saying. Steve had gotten into the army. “B-but that means-”

“I leave for bootcamp next week.”

Then came the anger. How dare he- how dare he leave you too?

“Steve- y-you can't! How many times have you been denied because of your health? Your asthma!” You needed him to see, needed him to understand that you couldn't risk him.

“Neither of you understand,” he said, pulling his coat on. The leather hung loosely from his shoulders, showing just how small he really was. “I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. You can stay here! Stay home. With me.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes showing confusion before comprehension. He walked over to where you stood in the kitchen, his small frame looking more and more delicate to you with every passing second.

“I can’t stay here, while everyone else fights for their girl. I have to do my part.” He grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it tightly for a moment before letting it drop and walking out the door, not knowing just how long it would be before he saw you again.

You wrote him almost everyday. Your first letter was short, unsure of how to communicate with him since you knew he wouldnt get these letters for some time. Did you tell him about your day to day life? Did you tell him how you felt without him around- but how could you even put that into words?

Did you tell him that you loved him?

You couldn’t answer these questions yourself, so you settled for a somewhere in-between.

Steve, You’re crazy, you know that? You did it, you got in. I’m proud but I’m scared. You have to come home okay? It’s weird being in the apartment without you and Bucky around. My mom suggests a dog to keep me company but I’m not sure. It’s really you guys that made my small place feel like home, especially you. It’s too quiet without you around. Come Home Soldier.

It was hard to get used to the idea of Steve and Bucky both being gone. Your apartment was far too quiet without either of them bursting in at random times, far too empty without the constant presence of the boys you’d known since childhood.

Your mom had suggested in her last letter that you get a dog. You’d laughed at the idea, telling yourself you didn’t have the time, but the longer you went without Steve’s voice filling your apartment, the more you found yourself craving company.

Anything to fill the void he left when he joined the army.

Steve, I read in the paper that things are getting worse over there. You can still come home, you know. We can make a difference here, together. Sell bonds, send care packages, send aid. I don’t know. Anything. I don’t like the idea of both of you over there, me not knowing if you guys will home home. I need you to come home, okay Stevie? I got a dog today. His name is Spencer. It was too quiet here and he is just the sweetest little thing. I can’t wait for you to meet him. Come Home Soldier.

Spencer was an energetic pit bull pup, soft grey fur and bright blue eyes. The eyes alone were why you got him; they reminded you so much of another set of bright blue eyes that you loved so dearly.

You’d attached a picture of the pup in the following letter your sent Steve, hoping it would make him smile. You decided to take a chance by attaching one of yourself as well, hoping he would finally clue in to how you felt about him.

Carry my picture with you over there. Come home to me.

Steve, I know your time in boot camp is coming to an end soon, which means you’ll finally get my letters. I miss you more and more every day, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. I’m sorry for how we left things that day you enlisted. I meant what I said though, about you staying at home, with me. Together. The offer still stands when you come home. You inspire me, and I love you for that. Stay strong Stevie. Spencer and I can’t wait for you to make it back to us. Carry my picture with you over there. Come home to me. Come Home Soldier.

He thought about you, about how he left things with you, every day. He pushed himself farther and farther, willing himself to keep going because if he did, he would get to come home to you. He adored everything about you, the way you laughed at his corny jokes, the way you picked at the food on your plate when you wanted to make the time slow down, the way you played with your hair, the way you helped him whenever he got himself into a fight.

You were what kept him going.

He hoped to get letters. He wanted to see your bubbly hand writing at the end of each day, feel like he was talking to you, but he knew that with his unit, and the program he was selected to test for, letters were not allowed.

So he waited on baited breath every day, writing his own letters, telling you about his time here, his struggles, how much he missed you, how much he worried about Bucky, how much he loved you. Those letters would never be sent, though. He couldn’t. You didn’t feel the same, and he knew it. So he kept every single letter for himself, telling himself that maybe one day, he would be brave enough to send them to you.

He thought of nothing but you when he was selected for the serum. That was also the day he finally received your letters.

In each one of them, you’d poured your heart out to him, allowing him to see just how much you missed him, how different life was in Brooklyn without him and Bucky, how you’d half expected him to be sitting on the stoop of your apartment most days, eye black, lip split, and a shit eating grin on his face.

Come Home Soldier.

He smiled at the way you signed your letters, your letters looping together at the end, flowing together with ease. “Steve? Are you ready?” Peggy Carter’s voice called to him from across the room where preparations were being made to inject him with the serum that would change his life forever. He nodded, looking back down and smiling at the picture of you. He’d almost forgotten how beautiful you were, his memory hardly doing you justice.

The offer still stands when you come home.

Oh, how badly he wanted to come home.

Head in the dust, feet in the fire

Steve, Please be safe overseas. I know how badly you’ll want to run off and join the fight, but that’s not what you’re there for. I hear you’re performing in front of the 107th. Please send Bucky my love. I’ll see you boys soon. Come Home Soldier.

[Y/N] The 107th is here, but Bucky…. He didn’t make it back. He went missing behind enemy lines. I’m sorry that I’m the one telling you this, and having to tell you this way, but you deserve to know. They think he’s still alive. But the letter they sent home said nothing of that. I had to tell you theres a chance. I can’t just leave him there, when I’m so close. I have to go and get him, so we can both come home. Yes, Ma’am.

He’d started responding to you this way shortly after being released from boot camp. He responded to each letter you sent, signing with a yes ma’am every time, telling you you didn’t have to worry because he would come home.

But here he was, telling you that he was going behind enemy lines, untrained for combat, probably with minimal if any weapons, in the hopes of saving Bucky.

Your heart had shattered when you got his letter. Bucky was missing, presumed dead or captured. You’d cried for days on end, losing one of your best friends was about as heart breaking as you could have ever thought.

Bucky, who was presumed dead by the army.

Bucky, who made it his mission to protect everyone, you and Steve at the top of that list.

You shouldn’t have encouraged him and you knew it, you should have wrote back saying to leave it be (even though you knew he’d have already gone through with his plan by the time your letter would have made it to him) but this was his best friend, your best friend.

Steve, Bring him home to us. Come Home Soldier.

It was longer than normal before you got a response from Steve. You’d practically waited day and night by your post box, waiting and waiting and waiting for something from him.

He always write back within four weeks. But now, we were nearing six and you couldn’t understand what had happened. Had he died when trying to save Bucky?

Had you lost both of them in one foul swoop? You pushed the thought from your head. You couldn’t think that way- if you kept it up you’d go insane.

By the end of the sixth week since your last letter, you postman came in smiling, and yellowed envelope in his hand and eyes locked on you. You couldn’t help but smile back, looking at your name on the envelope from Steve, written as nicely as he could manage. His hand writing was messier than usual, suggesting he was writing from in the back of a squad car or from a moving train.

“You’ve got yourself a good man, there,” the postman said, causing you to blush.

“Oh no- Steve- he’s not, I mean, we’re not-“

But the postman had laughed and walked away before you could even finish the sentence.

[Y/N], I got him. James Buchanan Barnes is coming home safe and sound, just like I promised. Peggy is going to come and get you, I can’t come home just yet, but we have a short leave here in a few weeks, before our mission starts. I’d love to see you. Yes, Ma’am.

Peggy Carter arrived on your doorstep two days after the letter from Steve. A gorgeous girl, soft brown hair falling into place perfectly on her shoulders, lips pained red, and an attitude that showed that she was no-one to mess with.

“You must be, [Y/N],” she said in her smooth British accent.

“And you must be Peggy.”

You’d only seen one picture of Steve since the serum had been injected, turning him into Captain America, the symbol of the nation. You hadn’t gone to watch his movies, had kept far away from news stands whenever possible, and avoided any and all imagery of him.

It wasn’t because you weren’t proud of him, it wasn’t because you wanted to keep the illusion alive as long as you could.

You simply didn’t want to see him because it hurt looking at those pictures of him, seeing him different in a picture, it wasn’t your Stevie and you missed your Stevie too much.

“Peggy, I- I’m nervous,” you said, adjusting the dress you wore, which hugged you in all the right places, the soft blue of the fabric seeming to glow against your skin.

“Don’t be,” she responded, playing with a few strands of your hair, trying to get them to stay in place. “I knew him before the serum too. I led his training program. He’s the same man you knew.”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. “I haven’t seen him in nearly eight months. We’ve only sent letters, which… I-I can’t tell if he’s been… if he feels...”

“The man is in love with you.”

You and Peggy both jumped slightly as a deep voice rang out behind you. Your eyes scanned the room, settling on the one and only Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, voice strained. He still looked rather weak, his smile not reaching his eyes quite the same way, arms crossed against his chest.

“Hey, doll,” he said, coming up to you and hugging you tightly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Buck.”

You pulled away from him after a moment and lightly smacked his chest, tears brimming in your eyes. “Don’t you ever go missing again, you hear me? We need you, Barnes.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around you shoulders. “Understood.” He paused and looked down at you, all dressed up. “He loves you in blue.”

A hot blush rose to your cheeks and you smiled nervously, fingers curling around each other in the soft fabric of your dress. “Did you mean what you said? Is he in love with me?”

Bucky smiles, leading you out towards the bar where Steve was waiting. He didn’t answer your question, chucking slightly to himself and saying under his breath, “Both of you are hopeless.”

As you entered the bar, you looked around. A thin veil of smoke hung in the air, the voices of rowdy soldiers filling the place, laughter all around. These men has seen hell, been through hell, but they were alive and celebrating and it was wonderful to see.

You searched the crowd of men, looking for a familiar tuft of blonde hair, the familiar slouch of his shoulders, listening for his laugh-

“[Y/N],” his voice came from behind. You don’t know why you expected him to sound different, but hearing his same voice, the same soft lilt, the same way your same sounded flowing from his lips....

You turned around slowly, nerves wracking your body. His gaze was soft, his blue eyes full of joy at the sight of you. He smiled nervously at you as you took in the sight of him. He was no longer the small sickly boy from Brooklyn. No, before you stood Captain America, the golden boy of the USA, with all his muscles and hair that now seemed to lay in perfection, eyes that sparkled brighter, and skin that seemed to glow instead of being dull. He was gorgeous.

But then again, you’d always found him gorgeous.

“Steve?” You hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, you hadn’t meant to sound slightly afraid, to let your nerves show. But Steve smiled in relief and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight.

“I’ve missed you,” he said placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “You have no idea what your letters have meant to me.”

You blushed slightly, thinking of him reading each of your letters; the happy moments and the sad moments and everything in between. “Yes I do,” you whispered back to him, praying that he would never let you go.

His body shifted and you knew it was time to break the hug. You smiled wearily up at him and he took your hand, leading you to a table and pulling your chair out for you. You sat carefully, painfully aware of Bucky watching your interactions from across the bar. You shot him a glare as Steve moved around the table to sit with you. Bucky laughed and you groaned, annoyed with his antics.

“[Y/N], I-“ Steve began when you cut him off.

“I can’t believe you, Steve Rogers.” You had a smile on your face so he knew he wasn’t in serious trouble but he expected your next words. “You are absolutely insane, you know that? Running off to save the day.”

He smiled back and you noticed his hand on the table, closer to yours than you’d expected. Your stomach flipped as Bucky’s words repeated in your head. “The man is in love with you.”

Several drinks later, Steve held you close to his body, an arm around your waist, the other one holding your right hand in his, his lips close to your forehead. The music played softly as you danced, enjoying each others company, holding eachother closely, afraid to put any distance between yourselves.

Bucky and Peggy had left the bar long ago, most other soldiers having cleared off as well, only a few remaining. Your head rested on Steve’s chest and you chanced a glance at him. His blue eyes were already gazing at your and he smiled nervously.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Not everybody get to bring someone over seas. Nobody does, actually. How did- how am I-”

Steve was dreading this question. He didn’t want to talk about his missions. He didn’t want to ruin what had been such a happy evening with the thought of his never coming home. He didn’t want to worry you. But he owed you an explanation. “Not here,” he whispered into your ear, distancing his body from yours and pulling you along behind him.

You followed him out, holding yourself close to him as you walked down the street, planes clearly visible in the air. You knew they had to be allies, but walking down the streets of the small European town, in the middle of a war, you couldn’t help but worry. Steve felt your grip on his arm tighten and his chest constricted. Maybe....

He led you back to the hotel you were staying at, walking up to your room with you. He was more nervous now than he had been when you were dancing. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the whole illusion the place had set up. But this moment, here with you, and only you, Steve felt true nerves over take him. But it was now or never.

He opened his mouth to speak, and you held a finger to his lips, shushing the words about to come out. You had a guess to the answer you’d asked him, as to how he managed to get you out to him, and in your impaired state, you'd decided the best way to get your answer was to lay it all on the line.

You stood on your tip toes, eyes darting from Steve’s soft blue eyes to his plump pink lips, before your lids grew heavy and your lips made contact with his. He stood frozen for a moment before his lips began moving and melding with yours, his heart hammering the whole time. The moment he began kissing you back, you were sure you had to be dreaming, there was no way- no possible way this was real.

He really felt the same.

Your hand fumbled behind you as you kissed him, lips melted together, Steve’s hands holding you tightly to him, his tongue dancing in your mouth and you desperate to leave the hallway. Steve seemed to realize what you were doing and he picked you up effortlessly, opening your door and stepping inside without ever breaking this kiss.

“I-is this okay?” he had murmured to you as he undressed you. “Do you want this- me?”

You smiled at him and nodded. “It’s always been you Stevie. Captain America or not. It’s always been you.” His blue eyes searched yours as he breathed heavily, before they seemed to find what they were searching for. In an instant his lips were back on yours, turing your brain to putty and lighting all of your senses on fire.

The night was a hazy blur, clothes torn off, passion growing stronger every second, Steve mumbling your name, you moaning out his, and the feel of skin holding onto skin, desperate to be closer, to mold into one.

You fell asleep, safe in his arms some time later, content to never move from that spot, and just lay in peace with him for eternity.

You wanna take a drink of that promise land

The saying had always gone good things come to those who wait. Steve had waited days, weeks, months, years for the night you had shared with him, musty hotel sheets holding dirty secrets neither of you were ready to tell. But he had waited, and the wait had been worth it. You’d never wanted to leave those sheets, their rough texture enveloping you and Steve in your own world, lost to time.

He knew if things had progressed sooner, happened before that night, you wouldn’t be looking at him this way as he and Bucky boarded a plane to take him off to his mission. You wouldn’t have the same day after glow he’d heard so much about, you wouldn’t have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. You wouldn’t have cried the same way.

“So,” Bucky’s voice rang in his ears as the men loaded onto the small aircraft, “did you tell her?”

Steve looked at Bucky, his eyes downcast. He had the perfect opportunity, he’d had you in his grasp, held you close, whispered sweet nothings, but he had failed to do the one thing he wanted to. He knew you told him different when he asked if you were sure, the sweet words that had fallen from your lips making his heart race, but to him, and surely to you, he was still sickly Stevie from Brooklyn. Someone you would never love.

“No,” he said quietly, looking at the letter clutched in his hand. “I didn't tell her I love her.” Bucky let out a soft sigh before sitting next to his best friend and clapping him on the shoulder.

“You’ll get the chance. I’m sure of it.”

Steve, That night, it means everything to me. What we did, how we felt, what we shared, I can't stop thinking about it. I hope you know now just how much you mean to me. You are my world Steven Rogers. I still can't believe they let you bring me out to Europe. I guess for their Captain America, they’ll do anything. It was beautiful, even when ravaged by war. I hope we can come back someday, when we can just be us. Steve and [Y/N]. Peggy set up a flight for me back to the States. I’m sure my mom will be glad to be rid of Spencer. I miss the little fluff almost as much as I miss you. Come Home Soldier xx

[Y/N] I think about you all the time. I miss you and your laugh, I miss your smile, I miss the smell of your shampoo. I miss home. I think about you- and talk about you- so much, I think Bucky is getting rather annoyed with me. I will bring you back to Europe some day, I like the idea of being nothing more than two kids from Brooklyn traveling the world together. Have a safe trip back, and make sure you pay attention to your surroundings. It’s still dangerous here, no matter the levels of protection you have. I wish you'd let Peggy take you to the station. I will write when I can. Yes, Ma’am x

His mission started soon after that last letter, only by a few days. He wasn't sure when he would get to write you another letter, or if he even would. Out here, fighting Hydra, fighting the war, he never knew if he would make it to the next day. But he fought as hard as he could, for you.

Day after day, he tore down Hydra bases, capturing any agents he could so they could get the answers they needed, so he could find the Red Skull. So he could come home.

Bucky knew Steve wanted nothing more than to see you again, no matter how much Steve told him nothing was happening with you. He was always a horrible liar, and more than once Bucky had caught Steve writing to you. It brought a smile to his lips.

As the time past, and every day seemed to carry on longer without Steve’s presence in Brooklyn, the more desperate you became to get a letter from him. You knew he was busy, knew he could write as often as before when he was performer Captain America, but you still didn't know anything else. You still wished for a quick delivery on his letters, finding yourself let down more and more every day.

Randal, your postman, had grown used to the sight of the lonely young girl, standing by her mailbox every day at the same time, waiting of her soldier. The sight brightened and broke his heart every day.

“I’m sorry lady, but there’s still no letters for you, ‘less you count the bills.” His voice was tender and soft, like he was afraid to say something that might upset you.

He always felt the worst when you’d hand him another letter, eyes hopeful, as you said, “Well can I give you this? To mail to him?”

He would nod, of course, not daring to be the reason he broke your heart.

Steve, Work has been hectic since I got back- I don't think they were expecting me to be gone so long. I just managed to get caught up on my work from those few weeks I was gone to see you. I hope all is going well, and that you are safe. I swear the poor mail man is getting sick of seeing me wait by the box for a response. Please write when you can. I got so used to every four weeks that now I’m starting to worry about you even more. Come Home Soldier xx

You head was spinning. Surely if he was okay, you'd have gotten something from him by now. Surely you would have something waiting for you in your mailbox. Every day you told yourself this was the day, that today your Steve would have finally sent a letter. But every day, it was nothing but an empty post box.

“I don't know what to do,” you said to your best friend, your head hung low, fingers curling tight in your hair.

“He’s fighting a war, honey. He can't write you like he used to,” she replied, stroking your back softly.

“It’s been almost two months-”

“And it hasn't come out that he’s been killed or captured has it? Trust me, if Captain America went missing, we would have heard about it.” You looked up at her, your eyes swimming with tears, but realization forming behind them. “Write him again. You’ll get a letter back. I promise.”

Steve, Please write to me soon, baby. I can't stand this silence, not knowing if you are dead or alive. Every day I am worried I will come home to find an MP at my door, waiting to deliver the horrible news. I write anyways, regardless of if these will all just get brought back to me in a tin box along with your dogtags. I guess, if I write, then you have a higher chance of coming home. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it’s just a way to help I guess. Come Home Soldier xx

After every mission, after every success he wrote a letter that he would send to you when he had the chance. He filled them with his love, with his fears, with his dreams, all without ever writing those three words; that was for him to tell you in person, so he could see that smile split across your face, see that sparkle in your eye, kiss your lips and hold you close again.

He’d written a total of fourteen letters over the last two and a half months. He should've banded them together. He should have boxed them up. He should have mailed them from the base when all his missions were complete.

How stupid he could have been; and how you wouldn’t realize you were meant to have a fourteenth letter. Fourteen placed in the mail, thirteen out for delivery.

[Y/N] I’m sorry I haven't been able to write sooner. I’ve actually just not had a moment to send them out. I’ve just gotten back to base, where I got all of your letters. I miss you so much, it hurts. I think about you all the time, doll. I think about that night, and I can't wait to come home. I hope you know that. I’ve got another long mission coming soon, so I’ll write you when I can. Yes, Ma’am.

The day you got his letters, you cried for two hours straight. The postman had waited for you, a smile splitting on his face when he saw you walking up from work.

“Did he-”

“Thirteen letters, all from that boy of yours,” he smiled softly, hand outstretched with a large stack of envelopes. Your heart flipped and your smile widened, tears brimming in your vision.

“He’s okay,” you whispered, taking the letters from his hands and holding them tight to your chest. “Thank you.” He smiled before walking away, patting you on the shoulder as he did so. Your feet quickly carried you up the stairs to you apartment, Spencer walking at your heels happily as you entered your apartment. Gently you flicked through the letters, looking for the one he sent first, heart absolutely singing.

You fell asleep holding his last letter to your chest nearly three hours later. You didn’t hear your door open, hear Spencer’s growl of warning, or hear the heavy footfalls of boots. No, you were back in Europe, wrapped in Steve’s arms in that musty hotel, hearing only his sweet voice.

“Bucky!” He was so close, his hand outstretched, fingers nearly to his best friend, almost curled around his own- the metal snapped, Bucky’s only lifeline to that train, his scream ripping through the air as he fell. “Bucky! No!”

Steve’s heart broke as he watched his best friend fall down to the bottom of the revine, never to be seen again. Steve bowed his head, tears lightly staining his cheeks as he stayed there, half of him wanting to jump down off that train after him- but he knew what he would find if he did.

He couldn't face that.

He pulled himself together, looking back inside the train, Zola staring at him through the glass window of one of the compartment doors. Anger flooded through him as he stared at this man who had tortured, tormented, and experimented on his best friend and he did the first thing he thought of.

Launching himself back into the train, Steve hurled his fist at the door, using all of his strength and the lock snapped. Zola backed away in fear, and Steve grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Consider yourself dead, you hear me?”

[Y/N] I’m so sorry. I don't know how else to put this, and there’s really no gentle way to do it, either. Our mission- it was.... we won and we lost. The army would have me say our victory was greater than our loss. But I don't agree. I think we lost more than we gained. Bucky- he shot at a man, trying to protect me. There was a small explosion... Bucky won't be coming home, doll. I’m so sorry to tell you this way. But- I needed to tell you, to have you hear from me. He died a hero, yes. But he died because of me. Maybe I should have listened to him. Maybe if I hadn't enlisted none of this would have happened. This is all my fault. Yes, Ma’am. p.s. I can't wait to see you.

“Steve- Steve wait- you can't just go off-” Peggy Carter tried to reason with him as he marched down the hall, his mind made up. In his briefing after Zola’s interrogation, Steve was more furious and heart broken than ever.

Not only had he lost Bucky, but he had learned that two weeks ago, you’d gone missing. Your letters had stopped arriving at base for him, something Peggy took notice of right away, and had sent MP’s to look into.

Your place had been ransacked, and the MP’s had found your mother in the middle of your living room, laying with your dog, crying hysterically. “S-s-she’s missing! Hasn't called- hasn't gone to work- sh-shes not here!”

“I have to finish this! If i find him, I can find her!” Steve said, walking down the hall quickly, being a little harsher with the brunette than he should have been. He slammed his hand down on the elevators call button, his blood boiling. “I won't change my mind on this, Peg.”

She placed her hand on his, still resting on the call button. His hand tensed under hers and he pulled away, wishing with every fibre of his being that it was your hand resting on his. “Steve-” she started once again, but she was cut off by the elevators opening, and Steve pushing away from her, into the elevator, ready to fight.

This was the last mission Steve Rogers had served. He died a hero, at least that’s what everyone said. Your mother had cried endless tears when Peggy Carter had shown up on her door step, a forlorn expression on her face to tell her everything that had happened.

Bucky.

You.

Steve.

All three missing, all three gone before their time, all three too good for this world. Peggy had cried with her, her heart aching and torn apart just the same. She’d grown to love each and every one of you, wishing with all she had that she could go back in time and make everything okay.

But, that was impossible; she knew it and the world knew it, so the world moved on. Time still continued, days, months, years still passed as though nothing had happened, even though for some the world had stopped long ago.

Life didn't care, life was cold, calculating, and heartless, showing no mercy for those lost to time.

It was a long 70 years later that Steve Rogers was found in the ice. 70 years later that Hydra’s longest serving prisoners of war were finally woken up. 70 years later that the Winter Soldier had realized that this killing machine was not who he was. 70 years later that [Y/N] woke from cryo to find a pair of soft blue eyes staring into her own.

Careful son you got dreamers plans

“Where am I?”

It was the first time you had spoken freely in years, your brain fuzzy as the cryo wore off. The man standing before you was familiar; his blue eyes, his blonde hair, his concerned expression, the way he held his body, like he was still trying to figure it out. You knew this man, but he was a figment of an old memory, locked away somewhere in the back of your mind.

“You’re in New York,” the man said slowly, reaching out to place his hand on yours. You flinched away from him, your eyes scanning the room around you, searching for threats.

Behind him, stood two other men; one wore all black, a silver metal arm glimmering in the light, his brown hair long and unkempt, stubble growing in along his defined jawline. The other man wore a suit of yellow and red armor, a large round light shining from his chest, and the hand currently pointed at your body. Your gaze settled back onto the man before you, a large star on his chest, red, white and blue uniform sparking something inside you.

Slowly, your mind worked as you stared at the men, trying to piece together the puzzle. Something was missing, and you knew it, but what that something was...

“[Y/N], I know you have a lot of questions-”

“Ho-how long was I asleep this time?”

Steve froze at your words, his mind boggled. You knew you’d repeatedly gone to sleep, which meant Hydra had used you for more than Bucky had told him. Steve knew you’d been captured to get to him, that had worked. But he thought you’d been killed when he first woke up from the ice. That there was no way you’d still be alive 70 years after you’d gone missing.

And then he’d found Bucky, brought back to him by the same agency who had been responsible for his supposed death back in 1941. And after Bucky had woken up, finally broken free of his mind control, he’d told Steve everything. How you were there with him, how you'd both been experimented on, used as a weapon. But Bucky had never been aware how much time had passed between cryo- and you did.

Steve’s head whipped around to Bucky who looked just as confused as Steve. Tony eyed both men cautiously before speaking to you, over Steve’s shoulder. “What do you remember?”

Your eyes fell back on the man in metal and you cringed, “I-I remember him,” you said, pointing at the man with the metal arm. “I don't know your name though.”

Bucky smiled nervously. “You will. Steve, give her the letters.”

Your eyes looked back at the blonde, and you saw him frown. “She’s not-”

“She can handle it. It’s the only way she will remember.”

Anger surged through you as these two men talked about you like you weren't even there, like you couldn't make your own decisions. You sat up from the bed you were resting on and startled all three men. Steve, you had pieced together was the one sitting next to you. He ws the one who looked the most heart broken, and you looked wildly at him. “What letters? What will I remember?”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes. “Should I?”

“Yes.”

You hadn't expected his answer so bluntly. You’d half expected him to say no, to say that this was all some elaborate joke and that of course you’d have no reason to remember him. You remembered the brunette because he was always around whenever you had been subject to pain. But this blonde man, Steve, you had no memory of.

You stared at him a moment longer, unsure of him. But the softness of his eyes, the way he was looking at you, like he was begging you to remember him, begging you to see him for who he was to you. You nodded slowly looking back at the man with the silver arm. It was only now that you noticed the gun he held and you smiled, remembering something from Siberia. “You were always discreet. You can put that away, I’m not going to hurt anybody.”

Bucky nodded, lowering his weapon and hitting Tony on the shoulder, signaling him to lower his hand. The two of them exited the room quickly after, leaving you alone with him; with Steve. “So,” you said softly, looking back up at the soldier before you. “I know who you are?”

“Yes. We- we grew up together.”

Again his statement surprised you, and confusion flooded your features as you stared at him. “We did?” He nodded slowly, sitting down next to you on the bed, his fingers fidgeting with a stack of envelopes. You hadn't even noticed he had brought them out. “Are those-”

“The letters he talked about? Yeah, they are,” he said, his voice trailing off at the end, like he was nervous about what he was going to say next. “There’s something else you should know... about us... before I give you these.”

“What is it?”

“What year do you think it is?”

“I don’t-”

“Just- answer.”

You paused, thinking. “1974.”

Steve shuddered, thinking about all that you must have got through in your years of capture, the things you’d been forced to see, the things you’d been forced to do. “And when were you born?”

“I- I don’t... I don't remember.”

Steve looked at you now, his blue eyes taking you in. He wanted to hold you close, press his lips on yours and tell you how sorry he was that he hadn't done it sooner. He wanted to travel back to that day in 1942, beg you to stay in Europe on base, where he could have made sure you were kept safe. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't take any of the time back and he hated himself for his inability to fix that.

“This is going to sound crazy, I know, but you have to believe me okay?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. He took a breath to steady himself before closing his eyes. “You were born in 1919. You're name is [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. We met in 1921 and the last time we saw each other was 1942. You went missing and I was trying to find you... But things happened and a lot of time passed. It’s 2018 right now.”

Blunt. There was something about the way he spoke to you, so blunt that it was refreshing and painful at the same time. It was familiar to you, stirring something in the back of your memory.

“Why did we send each other letters?” Your voice was barely a whisper, and even that was hard to make out.

“We were in love,” he said just as softly, saying it aloud to you for the first time. His heart shattered, knowing you had no idea you’d never said it to each other, never put it down in words in those letters, knowing that you might never remember those feelings or feel that way about him again. “I went to fight in the war.”

“Oh.” You’d meant to say more, to ask about your relationship with him, but all you could make your mouth say was that stupid, two letter word. Oh.

“Just... Read these, okay?” Steve handed you the envelopes and you took them gingerly, noticing just how thick the pile was. You’d written each other a lot.

“Okay.”

He stood up and you found yourself wishing he would stay where he was, right by your side. His presence was a comfort, stirring something familiar in the back of your mind that you knew you’d been forced to forget.

“I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

You nodded, flipping through the envelopes searching for something to trigger your memory. Here goes nothin’...

Steve, My mother keeps insisting that Spencer is just the cutest pup in the whole world, and that I have neglected my duty of sending you pictures of him, so here, please enjoy these attached photos of quite literally the cutest dog ever. I hope bootcamp is going well. I wish I could get a letter back from you, but I know there will be time for that. Don’t push yourself too hard, you are a scrawny little thing after all (and remember, I do say that in the most loving way). I can’t wait to hear from you. Come Home Soldier

Steve, Everyday you and Bucky are gone I find that things are getting harder and harder to do. I see the newsstands, warning of a worsening situation in Europe, and knowing that you will be over there, that he’s already over there... I’m scared you won't come home. Remember what I said, you can always just stay here.. with me... Come Home Soldier

[Y/N], I guess I’m leaving the stage life behind. No more movies pretending to be fighting, no more chorus girls, no more selling bonds as the Captain America they made me. I’ll be serving, fighting along side Bucky as Captain Rogers (they still want to call me Captain America though) of the 107th. I’m finally doing what I enlisted to do. I miss you every day. Yes, Ma’am

Steve, Today you left for Europe and I don't think I’ve ever cried harder. I’m so proud of you, but I’m still nervous. You promised in your last letter that you would come home, so please, please don’t break that promise. Come Home Soldier

It only took a few letters to start jogging your memory. You’d noticed there were an over abundance of letters from you, where Steve’s were few and far between, making sense, as he was off fighting, or, as you had recalled, working in Hollywood movies about the one and only Captain America.

And then a memory filled your mind, completely overtaking you.

Steve holding you close, his lips pressed against yours, demanding yet gentle, his hands tangled in your hair as he kissed you deeply, your fingers digging into his bare flesh, trying to pull him closer to you even though that was impossible.

“I’ve thought about this for so long,” you’d said in a slightly husky voice, passion clouding your mind.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, doll,” he’d murmured back, before securing his lips to the side of your neck.

Steve Rogers. The one great love of your life, the famous Captain America, the sweet boy from Brooklyn who was always sick, always trying to keep up with Bucky Barnes.

“Oh,” was all you’d said before completely dissolving into a puddle of tears.

By the time Steve had reentered the room, your cheeks were stained with tears, clutching the letters in your hands, your mind racing to fill the gaps in your memory. He took one look at you and rushed to your side, placing his hand on yours and removing the letter from your hands. He’d recognized the last line written and he nearly started to cry too.

Maybe if I hadn't enlisted none of this would have happened. This is all my fault.

“I remember... Steve, I remember,” you whispered, the tears flowing harder.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay,” he murmured, pulling you close to him and rocking you back and forth in his large arms. “I have a lot more to tell you, I just... I needed you to read them-”

You cut him off, surprising him and yourself completely. You were still crying, still in desperate need of answers and who’s, how’s and why’s, but in that moment, all you wanted to do was plant your lips on his. So that’s exactly what you did.

His lips moved against yours after a moment, eager to kiss you back once again. His heart, broken and bettered and bruised as it was, felt whole again for the first time since waking up from the ice.

A long moment passed, where lips danced together softly, breath growing heavy, and bodies clung to each other desperately, before Steve broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours.

“You remembered everything?”

A smile flooded your features. “Some spots are hazy, I still have a lot of questions, but... Yeah. I remember everything.”

He smiled back at you, his blue eyes stinging with unshed tears as he looked at you. “Good,” he said softly, leaning back in for another kiss. “’Cause I’ve needed my best girl.”

And then his lips were upon yours, the hunger behind them growing with every passing second as Steve kissed you. This was a moment stolen from time, that you should have experienced in past lives, but now, time stood still as the world finally righted itself, allowing you and Steve to have your moment in the sun.

Soldier keep on marching on

And then the moment ended.

Tony had found out about Bucky’s horrible involvement in his parents death. The Sokovia accords were signed, people were dead, and you had fled with Steve and Bucky, the safest option clearly being to run.

But even that, hiding out in the safety of Wakanda, had come to an abrupt end, Tony Stark’s phone number flashing on the small screen of Steve’s disposable cell phone.

The conversation was short, Steve’s expression darkening quickly as he listened to Tony on the other end of the phone. You tried to comfort him, grabbing his hand in yours as he talked on the phone, rubbing small circles on the palm of his hand. He smiled weakly at this, speaking to Tony quietly.

When he finally hung up the phone, he looked at you, a somber look in his eyes.

“I’ve gotta go, one last time, doll. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He rose to walk away, kissing the top of your head, his beard tickling you as he did so. “Steve, Steve I can fight too. You forget that Bucky wasn't the only one experimented on in the Red Room.”

Steve cringed and turned around, grabbing you in his arms. “I have to do this, and you have to stay here. I can’t be the reason you're in danger, I can't be the reason you don't make it back.”

“Steve-”

“This is not open for discussion. Please, this one.. It’s just too dangerous.”

You looked into his bright blue eyes, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as you did so, pulling him into a desperate hug, the engagement ring he had given you only four short months ago, glimmering in an almost mocking way. You shut your eyes tightly, whispering the familiar words he had read in every one of your letters. “Come home soldier.”

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hollandbliss · 5 years

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the spy who loved me. / harrison osterfield.

word count: 1,439 pairing: spy!harrison x spy!reader. warnings: none? summary: in an usual late night working, you come across harrison who decides to make things a lot harder for you. a/n: i love james bond so damn much and then i thought what a perfect thing to write for my first harrison thingey. i totally got a lot of inspiration from dr. no! and this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written.

masterlist.

you thanked the doorman as he opened up the door for you to enter the casino. the room was filled with people dressed to the nines. some people at the casino table and some hogging the bar for new drinks.

for a moment you took a glance around the room before going over to the booth to exchange some money for tokens. as you walked you noticed peoples curious eyes on your body. your floor length red dress that you had was sure a number.

but with a fancy dress code you did what you had to. you got your tokens and slid them into your little envelope bag that you carried in one hand. again your eyes scanned the room. the casino was lit up with soft lights and the decorated in warm tones of red and brown. and a band was playing soft music in the back of the room, really setting the tone of the casino.

you were there for work but your eyes were fixated on the casino tables. the game being played didn’t matter, the important thing was rather who was playing. you raised your eyebrow as you found the table you were looking for, where a game of baccarat chemin de fer was playing. you preferred your blackjack but it was close enough.

with your heals clicking against the floor, you started walking to sit down by the table. you greeted the dealer and sat down to the left of an older gentleman. “any luck at this table tonight?” you asked him with a charming smile, showing off your pearly whites.

the male turned to look at you seemingly pleased with the sight of you. “well i sure have had some.” he replied as he held out a hand out for you to shake. “robert downey jr. and you are?” you took his hand and shook it with a smile.

“y/n y/l/n.” you answered politely. “is it your first time here miss y/l/n?” you let go off his hand as you gave him a soft nod. “first time.” your conversation was cut short as the dealer had mixed the decks and were ready for a new round to be played. but before you could start the game, another player sat down.

you took your eyes off mister downey as you looked at the stranger. you looked through your long lashes and saw a very attractive man. a blonde dressed up in a nice armani suit. you could tell because you knew your brands. and a casino like this expected their crowd to have deep pockets. he had a confident smile on his lips as he unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down on the other side of the table. he looked like trouble.

and it was clear in how he played. you hated losing even though you were there for other activities. but you wouldn’t quit, even though the handsome stranger kept on winning. it had been a couple of rounds and both you and mister downey had lost a lot of money. as a round ended you waved to the waiter, wanting to do another withdrawal to keep on playing.

“i admire your courage miss...?” the stranger asked as you were scribbling down your signature for the waiter to get your new tokens. “y/l/n. y/n y/l/n.” you replied as you finally looked up at him. the first words you’ve heard from the stranger. in between your rounds you had been occupied with carrying on conversations with mister downey.

“i admire your luck mister...?” you said as you repeated his words. the stranger smiled as he heard the edge in your voice. he could tell that he was ruining your plans for the game.

“osterfield, harrison osterfield.” you exhaled slowly as you placed a strand of hair behind your ear. “so mister osterfield? would you mind if we raised the limit?” a little smirk found the corners of your lips as you looked into his eyes. his answer would tell if he was really up to gamble or not.

you could see that the thought was going through his head to process. “no objection from me.” he said as he smiled back. because what fun would gambling be without the risk?

the round went on and you looked down on your cards, did the you or the bank have the closest number to 9? it was your turn and either you passed and would let mister osterfield make the gamble.

you took a last look at your cards before making up your mind. “banco.” the confident in your voice was visible. even though it was a pure gamble, you did everything with confidence. you picked up your cards and flipped them upside down for everyone to see. and the dealer did the same with the cards belonging to the bank. and your smile only widened when you saw that you had won, meaning you had doubled your money.

“that’s enough for me tonight.” you told the dealer as you collected your tokens. again you turned to mister downey. “thank you for the lovely company. enjoy the rest of your night.” in a swift movement you stood up, taking your tokens and walking towards the exchange booth again.

you didn’t notice but mister osterfield had also tapped out and was quick on his feet to catch up with you. “too bad you had to leave just when things were getting interesting.” he said to you, still with that confident smile on his lips. you knew guys like him, they were crawling with people like him in the club. good looking fellas with a lot of money in the bank, which they weren’t afraid to spend.

“i guess you have to know when to stop.” you said nonchalantly to him as he walked by your side. "oh agreed. you gamble and when you get what you want and you walked away. that’s the game.” in the way he spoke you got the sense that he was talking about something else but you decided to not say anything else.

just as you were about to step up to the exchange booth you felt him grab you by the arm, pulling you backwards slightly. but you knew better than to make a scene. everyone in the casino was a crook in some shape or form.

you looked up at him with an intense look as he started speaking. “like the thing you took from your good company, mister downey.” your face quickly turned stern. you were good at your job. even though everyone saw you and your beautiful exterior, you hid in plain sight. you had many clients which you retrieved items for in events like these.

“give me the usb drive and you can walk away happily what that money you got your hands on.” he whispered into your ear and you swallowed harshly. most times you only knew the minimum. the client told you what kind of object they wanted and who to get it from and you did it. but this was different. without it, you knew you had to pay for it. the client wouldn’t be happy.

“you have no idea what you’re dealing with.” you said with a serious voice, even though harrison still had that smugness. and with your words you didn’t necessarily mean yourself. rather the one you were working for. but your words didn’t seem to scare him off in the slightest.

without making a scene he took your bag from your and you knew that doing anything now would only make things worse. he took the drive, and hooked his arm with yours to lead you to the booth. “the girl wants to exchange these.” harrison said politely as he took the tokens from your bags and put them down on the counter. the banker took the tokens and moved away to collect the money for you. “it’s been a pleasure, maybe we’ll see each other again miss y/l/n. but then you have to remind me to not play cards with you.”

he gave you your bag back and you watched him walk away. how could he annoy you and turn you on at the same times? you took your money and then reached for your phone in your bag.

quickly going through the contacts you found who you were looking for, a contact named x. and quickly you typed up a reply that said, ‘compromised.’ and then you hit send. mister osterfield was right, this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you meant. but next time it would end up a whole different way.

please let me know what you thought of this! and thanks for reading it.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield au #harrison osterfield smut

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msilet · 6 years

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Co-op Mission (1/2)

Ship: Merlahad (Harry Hart/Merlin), side ship 00Q (James Bond/Q, hinted at / pre-relationship)

Summary: James Bond is sent over to Kingsman to assist Harry Hart on a mission. James is impressed (and jealous) of all the tech Harry has. Harry is not happy about how much attention James is paying Merlin.

( Inspiration came from KM: TSS and KM: TGC where Merlin armed Harry (even amnesiac Harry) to the teeth and even gave him his jacket in the deleted scene and Harry basically got what he wanted while James Bond in was sassed by Q and got (almost) no toys in Skyfall and Spectre. )

AO3 link in case you want to read there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14502606/chapters/33503520

Story under the cut:

It's almost noon when Harry arrives at HQ, late as usual, and sees the message. It isn't really his fault, this time, just like most of the other times, he thinks, but Merlin always nags him about being punctual. Joke's on him; Harry is Arthur now, what is he going to do, fire Harry? Arthur outranks Merlin, fortunately.

"Come see me, I have a mission for you," the message says. Short and concise, which is just how Merlin communicates. It's not often that Harry has a mission anymore, being the head of Kingsman. Also, him lacking an eye and thus having a skewed depth perception isn't very convenient for field works. They have figured out a way to work around that, which is to pair him with another agent and have them covering him when needed. He hates it, of course, but Merlin threatened to take him completely off the field and that shut him up quickly.

Harry runs through the currently active missions by Kingsman quickly in his head and realises that every single available agent is out somewhere. Lancelot and Percival are off to the Middle East doing reconnaissance, Galahad and Tequila are in South America trying to stop a weapon smuggling ring. The fact that Merlin wants to give him a mission puzzles him. Who's the partner? Definitely not Merlin. After the shit that happened at Poppyland, Harry would personally chain Merlin to his desk and weld it down to the floor if Merlin even thinks of going out there again.

He arrives at Merlin's office and knocks on the door. He used to just barge in, but once he almost got hit in the face by Merlin's prototype prosthetic leg flying off the work table straight toward him. From then on, he always knocks on the door to confirm that it's safe to enter.

"Come in," Merlin calls out from the other side of the door. Having the permission, Harry slowly pushes the door open, just in case.

"Good morning, what do you have for me?" he greets. Merlin doesn't look up from his screen, fingers still dance across the keyboards as he tells Harry to come over.

"Remember our talk with MI6 last week?" Merlin finally stops typing and turn his chair to look at Harry, who's leaning on his table. "We have ourselves an agreement and a mission."

"Really? Why was I not informed?" Harry frowns.

"They called this morning. You would have been part of the meeting, if only you were here," Merlin reprimands.

While Harry has the good sense to say he's sorry and hopes that he didn't miss something important, he has full faith in Merlin. Between the two of them, Merlin has always been the brain of the operation. Besides, to be entirely honest, he feels secretly relieved that he didn't have to sit through another gruelling meeting with M, the head of MI6. Harry can't explain why but he always feels uneasy when dealing with the man.

"What did they say?" he asks.

"They have a free agent they can send to us, he needs to get some field work in after recovering from an injury. We are to receive him today, brief you both and then off you go tomorrow."

Harry shrugs. "A bit of a rush but no matter. Who are they sending over?"

"007."

"The 007?" Harry is surprised. Not only did MI6 agree to their request for cooperation, but they are also sending over their best agent. This mission must be more crucial than he thought.

"The 007," Merlin confirms. "What do you know about him? They didn't give me much other than his codename."

"Of course. Many mistakes me for him. As if." Harry says, slightly annoyed; Merlin looks amused.

As 007 would be arriving at the tailor shop in an hour, they decided that it's time for them to get on the underground bullet train so that they can be there as the other agent arrives.

They have been drinking their tea at the front of the shop when they spot a very well-dressed brunet carrying a suitcase. He enters, "I'm here to pick up order 6144 for the Riverside residence."

Harry stands up first and goes to the man, "Your order of seven suits are ready and waiting for you in the back room."

Merlin, who has been sitting with his back against the front door and has his view blocked by Harry, stands up and turns around to see the famed Double-Oh-Seven. He squints, thinking that the man looks familiar, then suddenly, he gasps, "James, is that you?"

007 comes closer to look at Merlin better while Harry turns around just in time to witness the scene unfolding in front of him. As the MI6 agent apparently also recognises Merlin, he walks quickly to Merlin and pulls him into a hug. "Eachann!"

"James, you have changed so much!" Merlin squeezes 007 before he releases him and holds his face in both his hands, turning it slightly left and then right. "Fucking Double-Oh-Seven, eh?"

"And you're Merlin! I can't believe this. Three days ago I didn't even know this organisation existed, now I see you heading it. And you no longer have hair!" James smiles widely, his eyes twinkle.

Before Merlin can reply, Harry clears his throat loudly. "Excuse me, can anyone tell me what's going on here?"

Merlin turns to Harry and smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry, this is James. James and I were friends since we were children. We met again when we both went to college in Edinburgh, shared a flat and learned judo together. When he joined the Royal Naval College, we lost contact. James, this is Harry Hart, also known as Arthur. He's actually the head of Kingsman, not me."

007 extends his hands out to Harry. "Pleasure to meet you. The name's Bond. James Bond." Harry walks over to shake his hand and notices just how blue his eyes are. Nice assets, he thinks. "Harry Hart."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Hart."

"Harry, please. Mr Hart was my father."

"Harry, then. Call me James."

Satisfied with how the two men behave, Merlin waves both of them toward the changing room. "We shoudn’t stand around all day, let’s get going."

For an agent of MI6, Britain's fabled organisation, James Bond is easily impressed. As far as Harry can see, Bond has been as amazed to see Kingsman's tech as Eggsy on his first day. He keeps asking Merlin about this and that and Merlin is so pleased to explain things to Bond. Even though Harry walks beside them at all time, he feels like the odd one out, forgotten. Rationally, he can't blame Merlin for being happy to have someone caring about his tech. Kingsman staffs and agents are all used to Merlin turning tech into miracles with his "magic", they no longer ask questions or feel amazed. At this point, if Merlin claims he is able to turn lead into gold, they would all believe him without a second thought. Secretly, however, Harry is a little miffed. He has heard about 007's charm before but it sure is annoying to witness up close.

They lead Bond to Merlin's office where the computers are, instead of the standard meeting room. When there, Bond opens his suitcase, takes out a folder of everything MI6 has on the terrorist organisation and hands it to Merlin. Apparently, they are planning an attack on a scale never seen before right in the heart of London, aiming for a high number of casualties. A few locations are marked as a possibility, and the intel needs to be cross-referenced with what Kingsman has and what Eggsy has been able to gather lately. Merlin sets the computer to scan all the documents and then compose a full file automatically.

He turns to the two agents behind him. "Right, my computers will need an hour or two to process all the data as well as cross-checking with our internal database and what they can find online. In the meantime, James, can you show me your equipment? I need to know the status of people I'm sending out on the field."

Bond nods, pulling out his Walther PPK and lays it on the table. Then he takes off the watch and put it next to the gun."

"This is to shoot people, this," he points at the watch, "can be set to explode. I have a tracker implanted."

"That's it?" Merlin asks, incredulously.

"That's all I need." Bond shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but Harry, being a field agent for decades, knows that he just appears like he doesn't care.

"Did you manage to piss off someone higher up at Six?" Harry jokes.

Bond sighs, "They said the world of espionage has changed. Battles are fought and won with computers and codes now. I'm just the muscle who does the dirty work."

"Who says that?" Harry, a field agent himself, feels hot under the collar just hearing those words.

"Many people, friends, foes. Q." Bond says.

"Q?"

"His quartermaster," Merlin interjects. "While I agree that technology is making big steps forward in espionage, we still dearly need the human touch. Come with me," he turns around and gestures for Bond to follow. Bond picks up his gears and put them back on before walking bristly up to Merlin's side. Harry tags along anyway, because who's going to stop him?

When they are there, Merlin unlocks the door by scanning his fingerprint and retina. The moment the lights inside the room are turned on, Bond looks like a child on Christmas being told that he can eat all the sweets. Merlin appears so damn proud of himself, spreading his arms out in the middle of the room and grins, "Welcome to the Kingsman arsenal."

Bond almost runs Merlin over to get into the room. He looks around, "This is amazing!" he exclaims.

"Let me show you some of the toys we have here," Merlin says, still having that grin. He picks up a lighter and throws it at Bond, who catches it easily. "Don't open it, that's a hand grenade. It blows up ten seconds after activation, giving you just enough time to get away." Merlin walks a few more steps to another shelf and says to Bond, who follows closely after him like a puppy. "Bulletproof suits, made to measure, excelled in both form and function, made by the greatest tailors Savile Row has to offer."

Bond touches the fabric reverently, "MI6 needs to buy from you. I wouldn't have been almost killed on top of a moving train wearing this."

"At the moment, we only have Kingsman uniformed style and colour,s but given a formal request, we can reconsider." Then, Merlin gestures to the shoes nearby, "Oxfords, with retractable titanium blades coated in poison at the front, activated by clicking your heels together. Pick a pair. And here are Bremont watches, they can shoot darts to either knock someone unconscious or erase their memories of recent events. Can be programmed to hack pass certain security systems, too."

"Did you make them?" Bond asks, and when he sees Merlin nods, he praises, "I always knew you were great, just not how great. MI6 should have snapped you up."

Harry coughs loudly, "Excuse me?"

Merlin, knowingly, cut in, "I'm flattered, but my heart belongs to Kingsman."

Bond winks at him, "If you change your mind, we're the first in line." Merlin laughs out loud at the cheesy song lyrics and Harry secretly fumes.

Merlin doesn't see that, because he already turned and is walking excitedly to the farthest wall of the room "I haven't even shown you the most interesting things yet, James, come over here!" and again, Bond follows him. Merlin stops in front of a wall and has an almost evil grin on his face. "Here come the weapons!" he says as he scans his whole hand on the glass. The two panels slide open to show a wide range of weapons from handguns, rifles to swords of all sorts and... umbrellas.

"What are those?" Bond points at them.

"Rainmakers-"

"Those are off limit," Harry interrupts Merlin. Merlin turned his head to look at Harry, wanting to object, but when he sees Harry grimacing, he decides to let Harry have his way.

"What do they do?" Bond doesn't let it go. He'd be a shit agent if he doesn't investigate things through.

"The fabric is bulletproof and acts as a shield, the inside surface is also a screen, showing you the enemy on the other side and their statistics. The tube is a double barrel gun that can fire shotgun shells or stun bullets. The handle is where you can switch between the two options. There are others functions as well-"

"Are you kidding me?" Bond asks, incredulous.

"Not at all, when you are on the field with Harry, you will see the Rainmaker in action. It's his signature weapon."

Bond turns to look at Harry for a few seconds, then shakes his head, "You lucky bastard."

Harry glares, but Bond has already turned his attention back to an oblivious Merlin, who tells him to pick a few things he likes. Bond ends up with a new pair of shoes, a new watch and a semi-automatic rifle plus the "lighter" that Merlin threw him before.

"No handgun? No suits?" Merlin asks. Looking at the stuff Bond lays out on the table.

"Not wearing your uniform, Eachann. Both M and Q would have my hide. As for handguns, I prefer my Walther PPK," Bond smiles, patting at his side where the gun is being kept, "it's coded to my palm print. My very own personal statement." He turns his head just enough for Harry to see him winking, "Harry's not the only one with a signature weapon."

"Interesting," Merlin muses, "Only you can use the gun?"

"Yes. It's the first thing Q gave me when he started being my Quartermaster. I lost the original in the belly of a Komodo dragon, though. The current one is a replacement," he smiles fondly, "He was very upset." Bond takes off his own watch, grinning, "I should return this to him in one piece. He detests me enough as is."

Merlin takes the watch and put it on a small tray, handing it to Bond, along with a bigger tray for the new toys. "I expect my stuff back after the mission too, James. Don't you dare ruining them."

"Yes sir, I'll try my best!" He salutes mockingly.

Merlin simply nods, unimpressed, and checks his watch. "I think we can slowly make our way back to my office. The computer should start returning results soon."

They arrive at Merlin's office with time to spare so they settle down and Merlin makes each of them tea. The program Merlin wrote for Kingsman promptly notifies them that the whole folder has been uploaded to the database and cross-referenced to all available sources, including the most hidden parts of the Dark Web. It also gives them the locations that have the highest probability of being a target for the attack based on the gathered information.

"So, the highest probable location that the terrorists will want to attack is around Piccadilly Circus, where it is extremely crowded during rush hour and close enough to both Number 10, Downing Street and the main tourist attractions to get attention."

"The gal of those terrorists, thinking they'd pull it off in on the most secure parts of London," Bond snorts.

"What those bastards don't know is that they are within walking distance from our Kingsman Tailor Shop," Harry chuckles, "This one is in the bag." Bond nods arrogantly while Merlin rolls his eyes over the two overly confident agents. Harry continues, "We need to find out where they group up before the attack and stop them. Merlin, any information on that?"

"My software has pulled CCTV footage as well as images from satellites monitoring the area. Two places are ranked above the rest. You will have to check each. One is a garage and the other is a warehouse for the shops nearby. At least one of the terrorists might have been planted as employees to get access to those places. We will find out where exactly tomorrow, there is intel about a trial run."

"Pull up employee files of all the stores nearby and do background check, please," Harry requests.

"Way ahead of you."

After that, they discuss possible infiltration methods and which route they will need to take to each location. Merlin will be monitoring both of them and they will change route accordingly. After going through the plan of action twice, they decide that it's enough. Merlin suggests that Harry should go back to his unfinished works and then go home early today so that he can actually show up tomorrow. Harry is sure he saw Bond's eyebrows shot up in amusement when he heard Merlin alluding to Harry's tardiness. Before he can even think of throwing a snarky remark, Merlin already tells Bond to follow him to his temporary quarter and leaves Harry there, clearly dismissed.

A few hours later, Harry knocks on the door of Merlin's office again.

"Come in," Merlin answers as he continues to stare at multiple monitors in front of him.

"I'm heading out. Are you going home any time soon?" Harry asks.

"I'm staying here tonight. Have to look through the database again to see if the computer missed anything. Then I will have to brief Eggsy's team at 1 AM and Roxy's team at 5 AM."

Harry sits down sullenly on the side of Merlin's desk, his arms crossed in front of him. Merlin decides to ignore him for a while, knowing full well that Harry can't take not having his voice heard for long. Harry looks increasingly pissed off as the minutes tick by. Finally, Merlin sighs, looks up and asks, "What is it, Harry?"

"You don't need to be here to brief the teams."

"I should. No matter how strong my private firewalls are, they are not miles ahead of military-grade like what we have here. With the sensitive info that both teams are gathering, I'd prefer if no one can sniff out any data."

"You just want to stay here because Bond is here," Harry blurts out.

Merlin is utterly confused by Harry's statement that it momentarily robs him of any words. He just sits there, squinting his eyes at Harry. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"Don't pretend you didn't notice him following you around like a puppy and looking like you hung the moon," Harry huffs.

Merlin goes from starring at Harry to dropping his head onto his hand, facepalming. He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes and then puts it back on. "I am too busy for this."

"But-"

"Harry, we are married. I'm your fucking husband!"

"But," Harry bites out as if the words he wants to speak offend him personally, "he is extremely handsome and fit, and you two lived together, and-"

Merlin looks at Harry as if he's daft, "First of all, I'm not sure if James likes men. When we lived together, he disturbed my sleep almost every single night with a new girl he brought back, to the point that I threatened to poison his food. Second, if he did, you would more likely be a target than I am, we were like brothers, it would be so," he scrunches up his face, "gross."

Merlin moves up from his seat to sits next to where Harry is and put an arm around Harry's waist, pulling Harry closer to him. When he speaks again, he makes sure to keep his voice soft, "Last, but not least, I am not leaving you for any beefcake out there making eyes at me. I love you."

"You were so nice to him, I hardly ever saw you being like that with anyone," Harry, still pouting, "and he was hanging onto your every word too."

Merlin chuckles, "I wanted to show off a little, alright? Not just because of the quasi-sibling rivalry, I also wanted to show an MI6 agent how great Kingsman is. As for James, he probably was having you on, seeing how prickly you were. From where I was standing, it looked more like he was flirting with you, anyway."

Harry, now deflated, starts blushing and looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry."

Merlin lifts his hand that has been at Harry's waist up to wrap around his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss on the temple. "I'm sorry for ignoring you, too. I was too busy the last few days and then got a little over-excited seeing James."

"It's not your fault," Harry denies, "It's my damn insecurities. I saw a young, attractive and agent and I suddenly became irrational. I kept thinking that you had no reason to keep me over him."

Merlin tries really hard to contain his laughter but Harry can feel him shaking, he asks, irritated, "What?"

Merlin actually lets himself guffaw, "By that logic, Harry, I would have dumped you for every single agent joining Kingsman after you, Eggsy included," he says with tears in his eyes.

Harry's expression is a mix of horrified and offended, "Please never say that again," he whines.

Merlin, still smiling, just hugs Harry closer with the arm on his shoulder and tilts Harry's head up with his free hand. "You vain drama queen! Have you looked into the mirror lately? You are still one gorgeous man. Sometimes I have to stop doing whatever I am doing just to look at you," he pauses, touching the blackened side of Harry's glasses, knowing exactly what tends to bother Harry, "including the eye, it reminds me of how I almost lost you and had you back. And," he kisses Harry's forehead, "even if you become the worst-looking man on earth tomorrow, I'd still love you like I always have."

"I love you so much," Harry says with a contented sigh.

"I know, although it's nice to be reminded sometimes," Merlin grins, "I love you too." He places a quick kiss on Harry's lips, "But you want to go home and rest, love, I need you at your best tomorrow to show James what we are all about. And be here on time."

"Yes, Quartermaster," Harry rolls his eye, "Your wish is my command." He hops off the table, kisses Merlin and saunters off.

Fin.

Note: Eachann means “horse” because Mark Strong’s nickname in Chinese is “Strong Horse” and he likes it lol.

If you like this, consider dropping me a review and/or kudo on AO3 too :)

#kingsman #merlahad #00q #kingsman fanfic #merlahad fanfic #harry hart #merlin (kingsman)#james bond #when Harry meets James #James and Merlin are friends #James is jealous of how Harry is spoiled rotten #Harry is just jealous #spies acting like children

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Tenet Is Christopher Nolan’s Unofficial James Bond Movie

https://ift.tt/3xRimZi

This article contains Tenet spoilers.

Throughout the Daniel Craig era of James Bond, the influence of Christopher Nolan has been hard to miss. A year after Nolan reinvented Dark Knight mythology with Batman Begins, and created the industry term of a “reboot” in the process, 007 had his own back-to-basics reset in Casino Royale. And following The Dark Knight’s praise for reconfiguring its iconography again for a post-War on Terror world, Skyfall would receive similar acclaim a few years later for its chilly, realpolitik tone.

But no matter how many developments in the Bond canon end up attributed to Nolan’s influence, it should be recognized that Bond influenced him first. That fact is almost inescapable after watching Tenet, which just premiered on HBO Max. It’s the filmmaker’s latest time-bending thriller, and the one that most resembles a 007 flick. With its smoothly dressed secret agent hero, its allusions to British intelligence, and its plot about a megalomaniacal Russian seeking to destroy the world, it’s a wonder John David Washington never once drained a dry martini.

More than any of the films before it, Tenet crystallizes that Nolan has always been chasing James Bond. And with this new film, the Memento director finally went ahead and remade that character in his coolly nonlinear image.

For more than a decade, the 50-year-old filmmaker has not been shy about his admiration for the Bond movies that captured his imagination as a child. At the 2010 London premiere of Inception, he even celebrated the similarities between his work and the Bond oeuvre.

“The Bond influence on the film was very intentional because, for me growing up with the Bond films, they’ve always stood for grand scale action,” Nolan said (via BBC). Those early 007 films from his youth, starring Sean Connery, George Lazenby, and Roger Moore, all “stood for the promise of being taken some place bigger than you could have imagined.” In an Empire print interview from the same year, he confessed, “I’ve been plundering ruthlessly from the Bond movies in everything I’ve done, forever. They’re a huge influence on me.”

And you can see it in every action film he’s made since 2005, beginning with the groundbreaking Batman Begins. While his origin story for the Dark Knight might have influenced how grounded Bond producers took their own 007 reboot less than 18 months later, the Bond influence on Nolan’s vision of Batman was there from the outset. It’s even in one of the key appeals of all three of Nolan’s Batman movies: his desire to open Bruce Wayne’s world up and depict him as a jetsetting crusader living in a larger global community, as opposed to in a contained Never Never Land version of Gotham City. The desire to show exotic locales like Iceland (doubling as the Himalayas) and Hong Kong visibly came from Eon Productions’ depiction of Bond as an adventurer always on the move.

More specifically, Nolan’s reinvention of the Lucius Fox character (played by Morgan Freeman) was modeled wholly after Desmond Llewelyn’s Q, the gadget-making quartermaster and occasional sidekick of 007 across nearly 40 years of Bond movies. Similarly, the focus on the chic habits and hobbies of the ultra-rich in those films (and many others of Nolan’s films, actually) likewise stems from 007.

As the Batman sequels continued to heighten the tension throughout The Dark Knight Trilogy, the influences of Bond also became only more pronounced. With each new film, the villain of the piece got a table-setting prologue action sequence that acted in a similar fashion to Bond movies’ famed pre-title sequences, and Bane’s aerial hijacking of a CIA plane over Scotland in The Dark Knight Rises is particularly a much more sophisticated riff on the same concept that starts License to Kill (1989).

Similarly, Batman kidnaps a Chinese national out of Hong Kong in The Dark Knight by holding onto him as an airplane grabs a cable tethered between the superhero’s back and a balloon floating in the sky—thereby yanking both into the air. Lucius Fox says he got the idea from “a program the CIA had back in the ‘60s called Skyhook.” And it’s true, that program existed, but Nolan almost certainly got the idea from the 1965 Bond movie, Thunderball, where Sean Connery and Claudine Auger (or at least their stunt dummies) are yanked out of the Caribbean and into the wide blue yonder.

Even the third act twist of The Dark Knight Rises, where it’s revealed that Tom Hardy’s dastardly Bane is actually subservient to (and in love with?) the woman Bruce thought he cared for is taken more or less from the underrated Pierce Brosnan Bond film, The World Is Not Enough (1999).

Eleven years ago, Inception was simply more brazen about these lifts, with its finely tailored heroes never needing to don superhero threads, and with a third act in large part focused on a ski and snowmobile raid of a fortress taken right out of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), which Nolan just happened to call his favorite Bond film. At the time of Inception’s release, he also called the dream-based actioner “absolutely my Bond movie.”

Nevertheless, with Inception’s structure being more derived from heist thrillers than spy movies, and its hero being a family man haunted by past mistakes instead of an international man of mystery, the filmmaker’s thoughts on that being “my Bond movie” have softened over the years. In 2017, he told Playboy (via Business Insider) that he’d “definitely” consider doing a Bond movie one day.

One might assume Tenet is that movie, or as close to it as possible.

In both Nolan’s Batman movies and Inception, the filmmaker grafted Bond inspirations onto the existing structures of superhero lore and heist movie conventions. Yet with Tenet, Nolan finally embraces the spy movie’s form… while still situating those conventions within his own distinct obsessions and narrative sleights of hand.

Excluding the most recent Bond movies starring Craig, the 007 of the screen has always been defined by his impenetrable ambiguity. Connery’s Bond never talked about his childhood or parents, Moore’s Bond never had any lingering attachments to friends or lovers beyond the current adventure he was already in, and the only acquaintances in their lives were work colleagues like Q, M, Miss Moneypenny, and poor hapless Felix Leiter from the CIA. With two notable exceptions, we never even saw the inside of Bond’s flat for the first 50 years of cinematic exploits.

Tenet thus takes that idea of a mysterious presence as the lead character to its extreme. Washington’s protagonist is even rather cloyingly named just that: the Protagonist. He has no family, friends, backstory, or even 007’s defining vices of vodka and sex. All we know is the Protagonist came up through the CIA before being recruited into the Tenet organization, and he doesn’t like it when colleagues are killed—well, that and he’s more inclined to drink a Diet Coke than a martini.

Still, he nestles into 007’s world neatly throughout the film. When he’s scolded by a marvelous Michael Caine for wearing a Brooks Brothers suit to a meeting at a London club so snooty that you’re chided for not addressing your betters by their titles, the Protagonist quips, “You British don’t have a monopoly on snobbery, you know.”

“Well not a monopoly,” Sir Michael smirks. “More of a controlling interest.”

In essence, Washington’s Protagonist is an interloper infiltrating the rich and privileged world most 007 actors are depicted as walking through as if it were their birthright. While there was a roughness around the edges to Connery’s original (and best) Bond, the character’s smirk implies he was born with the silver spoon, only no one realized it until he took it out of some other less deserving aristocrat’s mouth.

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Tenet Algorithm Explained

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We likewise see Washington slowly assume that identity throughout Tenet, intentionally irritating the stuffiness of Sir Michael’s club, or joking about hot sauce in a high-end restaurant frequented by billionaires. Nonetheless, he assumes all the Bond airs smoothly and with minimal effort as the film progresses. After Michael’s condescension about his suit, the next time we see the Protagonist he’s wearing a tailored three-piece gray number which doesn’t look that far removed from Connery in Goldfinger.

And when he sits down to match wits with the film’s villain, a man named Sator (Kenneth Branagh), he Protagonist acts like Connery: a fella who claimed the privilege that was mistakenly denied at his birth. When the Protagonist is asked if he’s slept with the villain’s wife, the way he so subtly smirks while saying, “No. Not yet,” would do Connery proud.

But then Sator, perhaps even more so than the Protagonist, is what makes Tenet a near full-on Bond movie. Following in the grand tradition of British actors adopting bad Russian accents to play heavies, Branagh’s Sator lives the life of a super-evil megalomaniac on his yachts and high on his vices.

Those trapping may be more sophisticated than the Bond movies’ often comic book-level depictions of wealth and power—hollowed out volcanoes and swimming pools filled with sharks—but for all of Sator’s musings about the paintings of Goya and Freeport tax havens, or the F50 foiling catamaran sailboats he flaunts in front of the Protagonist, he’s still a Bond villain who wants to conquer/destroy the world. In his case, it’s because of the complicated science fiction methods of a future generation wanting to wipe us out. Still, Sator’s function is all so much fodder for a third act monologue.

Where this becomes most apparent is his relationship with his wife Katharine (Elizabeth Debicki). A woman trapped in a toxic abusive marriage by literal blackmail, Debicki’s Kat is intended to be more developed than a typical Bond girl (not to mention many of the leading roles for women in Nolan movies). We see her twisted relationship with Sator strictly from her point-of-view as a mother living under duress, with her husband threatening to send her to prison if she ever attempts to leave with their son. In fact, he twists the knife further by saying he’d only allow her to leave if he kept the child he doesn’t even care about.

However, the Protagonist trying to get to the supervillain through the manipulation of his lover is Bond movie plotting 101. The Dark Knight might’ve borrowed the Skyhook concept from Thunderball, but Tenet lifts the central romantic triangle conflict in total, with the hero pressuring a woman to spy on and undermine a villain who’s essentially middle management for the bigger threat (SPECTRE in Thunderball, vengeful future generations in Tenet).

There’s more complexity to Kat than Thunderball’s Domino, and she nor the Protagonist need a romantic rendezvous under the sea for her to turn. She’s already ready to do that long before the Protagonist shows up. However, she is still, at least in one scene, the damsel in distress who must be saved, and the woman who’s also tortured and beaten by the man who keeps her under constant surveillance.

At least, also like Domino, Kat gets to kill the villain by shooting him on a yacht. Kat’s victory over Sator is more satisfying, too, since she does it to quench her own thirst for revenge and not to save the hero.

“I’m not the woman who could find love for you even though you scarred her on the inside,” she says, drawing the gun. “I’m the vengeful bitch you scarred on the outside.”

For all of Tenet’s confusing misdirections and head-spinning discussions about introverted entropies, paradoxes, and parallel worlds, it is in essence a spy thriller right out of the 007 template. But does that make it better or worse? The answer might be somewhere in the middle.

Like all of Nolan’s spectacle films, there is something to be said about Tenet’s fidelity to in-camera stunts and action. Nolan’s seen enough Bond movies over the decades to know the images that stay with you and hold up many years later are the ones where actors (or stuntpeople) are doing it for real. So original death-defying imagery, such as when the Protagonist and Neil (Robert Pattinson) bungee jump upwards and above a Mumbai high-rise, or a third act climax in which filmmakers simultaneously shoot vehicles moving forward and backward, is thrilling stuff. (The movie finishing in a third act siege is also taken from Thunderball and numerous other Bond movies, by the by.)

But personally, one of the greater appeals about Bond movies is their unapologetic desire to have fun. With few exceptions, the atmosphere is relatively lighthearted in each 007 adventure, or at least playful. Tenet, like all of Nolan’s films, has a somber earnestness about it, which makes the slipperiness of its protagonist harder to hang onto, and the motivations of its villain less credible in a story about our descendants trying to wipe us out over climate change.

In many ways, Tenet is denser and less mischievous than any of Nolan’s brooding Batman efforts or Inception, which is a picture where the central protagonist is a grieving widower. It’s one of the reasons, I suspect, Tenet has left a lot of viewers cold. So if this really is the closest Nolan ever gets to doing a 007 movie, maybe it’s for the best.

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