#buckyxnatasha

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

hoax

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

word count: 4197

warnings: language, angst, some fluff

[a/n: sorry it’s taken me so long to get this new chapter out. we got a new cat a couple of weeks ago and within 24 hours of having the cat we had to rush him to the vet a couple of times, thankfully now he’s doing so much better. I hope you all had a great holiday weekend. and hope you enjoy this part]

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19/20

Location: NY & CA

Year: 2013-2014

Elizabeth was frozen in place just staring at Bucky emotionless. She didn't know what to feel. Looking at the scene in front of her it was obvious what had happened between them. There was no denying. To even deny would be to think

Elizabeth is an idiot.

And an idiot she is not.

Bucky didn't know what to do. Even he knew there was no coming back from this. He was racking his brain, trying to think of what to say.

Nothing.

His mind was completely blank.

Natasha had never felt more awkward in her life. At least when in high school Elizabeth had never physically caught them red handed. She was face-to-face with the consequences of her actions. Immediately regretting even asking Bucky the proposition.

Elizabeth was broken out of her gaze. She stared between the two guilty parties, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Can't believe I was so stupid to think I was the only one. To think he actually changed," she thought.

Bucky opened his mouth about to say something, but he was cut off by

Elizabeth's hand.

"It's whatever Bucky," she shakes her head speaking first, "We weren't even exclusive. You can do whatever you want, with whomever you want. Single or not. You're good at that."

Elizabeth glanced back at Natasha, looking her up and down. She could never compete with someone like her, so she was done. Taking herself out of the equation.

"Excuse me," she politely says to Natasha who moves out of the way.

All Elizabeth wanted to do was go to her temporary room and be done for the day, for the weekend.

"Elizabeth," Bucky finally spoke up, his voice cracking, "Please let me explain."

Elizabeth didn't dare to make a move to turn around. She couldn't. Bucky didn't deserve that.

"I can't do this with you," she says, trying to control the tremble in her voice.

"Not again. This is it," she lastly said before walking to her room and closing the door.

"Bucky, I'm so sorry," Natasha apologized.

Bucky got a sense of Dejavú. Nothing really has changed the past year and a half.

"It's not your fault Natasha," he tells her, "This is all me. It never was and never will be your fault. I knew what I was doing, both times. This is all me and I have to deal with the consequences."

Before Natasha could speak they heard someone walking up the stairs. They looked over to see Steve come into view.

Bucky sighed. The last person he would want to see this, is the one that walks up. He already knew what Steve was going to say about it all. Steve won't admit it to Bucky, he knows how disappointed Steve is of him. In another way he didn't want to prove Steve right.

"Oh, hi Natasha," Steve surprisingly says.

"Hi," she awkwardly waved.

"Didn't know you would be here," he said, not giving Bucky his full attention.

"Yeah, I came with some of my sorority sisters."

"Oh, so you weren't invited," he side-eyed Bucky.

"No, just a coincidence," she cleared her throat.

"How perfect," Steve mumbled finally making eye contact with Bucky.

"Steve-"

"Where's Elizabeth?" Steve cut off Bucky.

"She went to her room," Bucky tells him.

"I'm assuming she saw this as well," Steve says waving his hand in between Natasha and Bucky. Natasha looked down and Bucky just nodded his head.

"You should go," Steve says looking first at Nat, then at Bucky, "Both of you." Natasha nodded her head, before slipping by Steve and down the stairs.

"If I could just explain what happened," Bucky pleaded.

"It's pretty clear as day what happened Buck," Steve harshly says, trying not to raise his voice, "Your hair, Nat's inside out shirt, an empty house. Come on Bucky, we're not fucking idiots."

"And with Natasha, again," Steve shakes his head, "There's nothing you could say that could fix all of this. Elizabeth gave you another chance, and you had sworn you weren't going to mess it up like last time. You had continuously said you were a changed man. Yet here we are in the exact same situation, we were in a year and a half ago."

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Bucky defended, "I had even ended it all with Nat. I swear. I was just as surprised as you were to see her here."

"Yeah, so surprised you decided to greet her with a fuck," Steve scoffed.

"Hey," Bucky raised his voice, pointing his finger at Steve, "That's not what that was. Natasha is not a 'fuck'. I care about her okay. I truly do."

"You sure have a great way of showing the women you love that you do."

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Bucky yelled, "You think I like doing this? You think I like treating Elizabeth or Nat like this? Fuck no. Do they deserve so much better than me. Yes. A million times yes. I don't know why I can't just fucking decide between the two of them."

"You really need to figure your shit out Buck, “Steve sighed, realizing arguing with Bucky isn't going to get anybody anywhere.

"We aren't kids anymore. You can't just keep going between Nat and Liz. You need to figure out what, who, you truly want to be. You can't keep being this person. I know you and I know you don't want to hurt anybody, but you are man."

"I just don't know what I want," Bucky confessed, shoulder slouching over defeated by all the pain and trouble he's caused those around him.

"Then take some time to figure it out," Steve says, "Work on yourself. More than just a year. Go see a therapist. There's only so much I can do to help. Once summer ends I'll be back in California. You also can't rely on others to get you out of your shit.

"You," Steve pokes Bucky's chest, "have got to want it. For yourself. Not for me. Not for your mom. Not for Natasha. Not even for Elizabeth."

Bucky nods his head, agreeing with everything Steve is saying. Really listening to his best friend.

"Buck, you do have to go though," Steve says softly placing his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"I know," he sighs, "I'll be gone in the next hour."

Both men hug before parting ways.

Steve softly knocks on Elizabeth's door. He doesn't hear an answer, he carefully opens the door peering in.

"Liz, it's Steve, can I come in?" He says looking over to where she was sat on a bed, her back facing him.

She nods her head, hoping he sees not trusting her own voice.

Steve quietly enters the room and closes the door behind him, before going to sit next to Liz.

He quietly sat next to her, slowly putting his arm around her, bringing her close.

He knew that she was silently crying, and that all she wanted was silence.

All they could hear were the sounds of the fireworks going off outside. Steve looked up at the balcony doors facing them, and could see the sight of the colorful lights filling the darkening sky.

"Thanks," Elizabeth sniffled, lifter her head up, yet still avoiding eye contact with Steve.

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel embarrassed about the whole situation. She didn't want to bring any drama to this weekend, yet it some how followed her there.

"Anytime," Steve says, rubbing her back hoping she'll look at him, so he could get another confirmation that she was really okay.

"I'm such an idiot," she said, still focused on the balcony doors.

"No you're not," Steve says eyebrows furrowed from her response, "Bucky's the idiot. Not you."

"I am though," she finally turned her head towards him, making eye contact. Steve could see how her eyes were still glossy. He hated seeing her like this. It just made him want to go and punch Bucky in the face.

"Why did I think this time would be any different from last time?"

"Because Bucky swore to you that it was going to be," Steve tells her.

"Yeah, and like an idiot I believed him."

"If believing makes you an idiot then I must be one too, because I believed him as well," Steve tries to tell her, "We all thought things were different, even he did, but some people need more than a year to figure their shit out. And clearly Bucky needs that.

"And I'm not trying to defend him. That's the last thing I want to do. These are his own mistakes that he needs to fix himself. I just don't want you blaming yourself for something that had absolutely nothing to do with you."

"This is a reflection on James, not you," he tells her.

"Why did he have to do this again, with her of all people," Elizabeth's voice cracked, the tears beginning to fall down her face again.

There was no use in hiding the pain she was feeling. Bucky had once again broken her the only way he knew how.

"Honestly who the fuck knows," Steve says continuing to rub Elizabeth's back, "He doesn't even know, so that should be a clear indication that Bucky shouldn't be with anyone but himself."

"I will never be able to compete with someone like Natasha," she numbly says, staring back out the balcony doors, "I can't just take whatever I want with no care who gets hurt along the way. If that's who he really wants to be with, then we were never going to work. And I was still living in some damn fairytale to think everything would've been better this time around."

"And I think I'm more mad at myself," she says, "For allowing myself to fall back in love with him. When there were clearly so many signs that showed that he was hiding something the entire time. Like how could I be so naive to let this happen again. To let him break me again.

"I had been so happy before I came back home. I had felt like I was discovering who I'm supposed to be, and then I allow Bucky into this new chapter of my life. And he just goes and destroys that. And I let him. I let him affect me in such a way that I shouldn't have allowed him to. But yet here we are again, in the same position we were in a year and a half ago. But this time I have myself to blame. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

"Liz," Steve sympathetically says, unsure of what he could say.

"I know, I know, it's not my fault," she sighs, "Just let me wallow in my self pity for now."

"Okay," Steve said turning his head back towards the balcony doors to watch the fireworks.

They continued to watch the fireworks in silence.

"Shit," Elizabeth gasped startling Steve.

"What?" Steve asked grasping his chest from the slight jump scare.

"It's your birthday," she said.

"Yeah, you've already wished me a happy birthday," Steve said confused why she was bringing it up.

"No, I mean you're spending your birthday dealing with my shit, instead of out there, having fun, maybe on your way of getting laid," she rambled getting off of the bed.

"Liz calm down," Steve laughs staying seated on the bed reaching up and grabbing her hand to pull her back down to sit next to him.

"I'm ruining your birthday," she insists sitting back down.

"No you're not," he grins shaking his head, "Trust me. There's no place I'd rather be than here with one of my best friends."

He playfully nudged her shoulder with his. Elizabeth was confused why he was choosing her over actually having a good time. But one look at that beautiful smile of his showed her he was telling the truth.

"You're really going to choose me," Elizabeth said pointing at herself, "over birthday sex?"

Steve laughed out loud causing Elizabeth to join in.

"Trust me Liz, I was not planning on having any birthday sex this weekend," he assures her, "There's just too many people in the house for my comfort."

"Ah Stevie likes to be loud," she playfully joked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he joked back, not able to control the blush creeping on his cheeks.

"Well since you won't be getting laid, how about you open the present I got you," she says getting up to grab the gift bag.

"Liz, you really didn't have to," he says as she hands him the bag.

"Hush, it's your birthday, now open it," she sat back down next to him, giddy with anticipation.

Steve smiled back at Elizabeth, feeding off of her energy. He opened the bag to pull out a new leather bound sketchbook and a brand new set of pencils.

"The guy at the store said those were the best ones," she says, "If they're not what you want the gift receipt is in the bag."

"No, these are perfect," he looked back at her in awe of the thoughtful gift.

"Thank-you," he reached over to hug her.

"You're welcome," she said into his shoulder.

Elizabeth didn't mean to but she took a whiff and caught the amazing smell that is Steve Rogers, cedarwood with a hint of lavender. She closed her eyes tightening the embrace a little more.

Steve was doing the same thing, taking in Elizabeth's classic Daisy by Marc Jacobs perfume. Her signature scent since freshman year of high school.

They slowly pulled apart, their faces inches from each other's, while they gazed into each other's eyes, as the fireworks went off in the background.

Steve's eyes flickered between Elizabeth's eyes and lips. He doesn't know what possessed him, but the next thing he knew was his lips on Elizabeth's.

Elizabeth was taken back at first, but then felt herself relaxing and kissing back.

It was almost like it was magnetic. Like they were destined to be kissing one another.

Steve quickly pulled away once the realization of what he was doing kicked in.

"I'm so sorry," he jumped off the bed, "I don't know what came over me. I definitely shouldn't have done that."

"Steve it's okay," Elizabeth stood up, trying to calm him down.

"No, it's not," he stressed pacing back and forth.

"Steve, I kissed you back," she tries to reason with him, "If I didn't want to kiss you, I would've pulled away."

"But I still kissed you. After all you've been through today, I should not have done that."

"Steve, if you're insinuating that you took advantage of the situation, you didn't," she tells him, "We were both caught up in the moment. If you hadn't kissed me first, I'm sure I would've done it."

"This was not how I wanted this to happen," Steve mumbled quietly.

"Have what happen like this?" Elizabeth asked, confused,

"I-," Steve paused, unsure of how he should say what he's been feeling these last couple of months.

"Steve?" Elizabeth quietly calls out.

"I-," Steve takes a deep breath and release, "Please don't let what I say ruin our friendship. Please know that this wasn't something I ever expected to happen."

"Okay," she nodded her head letting him continue.

"For the last couple of months, I might've started developing feelings for you," he tells her.

"Oh," she said not expecting him to say that.

"Believe me, I never planned on saying anything," he tells her, "Not when you and Buck had all this history. And most importantly not when you two decided to try again. This was a secret I was going to take to the grave with me."

"Why?" Elizabeth curiously asked.

"Because it's you, and there's Bucky."

"Not anymore," she says.

"What?" He asked taken back.

"There was Bucky. Emphasis on the was," she says grabbing his hands, "Bucky and I are done. For good. We shouldn't have even tried again."

Steve looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'm not saying we have to do anything now," she says causing Steve to snap his head back to her face, "I'm going to need some time to get over all this mess."

"Wait, what are you saying?" Steve asked confused out of his mind.

"I'm saying that I've kind of had a secret crush on you as well," she confessed,

"Since Loki's party to be more precise."

"Oh," Steve says stunned by the revelation.

"Yeah, but for the same reason you kept your's a secret, I kept mine. But he's not in the picture anymore."

"But I can't jump into this," she says, "Now with you of all people, because I don't want you to think you're just some second place prize. Cause you're not.

"You're my best friend. First and foremost. And I can't ruin that by rushing this. My heart still needs to mend from the damage Bucky has done. My mind needs to mend."

"I wouldn't want us to rush it as well," Steve agrees.

"I 100% understand it wouldn't feel right when you're not mentally into it. Not when your mind is elsewhere."

"I also don't want you to feel like you have to wait for me as well," she says, "because I don't know how long I'm going to need."

"Also I don't want you to feel like you have to be with me," Steve adds, "If you decide whenever you're ready to be with someone you won't hurt my feelings if you decide it's not with me. I'm a grown up, I can handle the truth."

"Okay," she let go on his hands and took a step back.

She held out her right hand, "You've got a deal."

Steve lets out a soft laugh and shook Elizabeth's hand, "Deal." ________________

The next morning everyone was lounging around. Tired from last night's festivities. Wanda and Elizabeth were lounging in the back drinking their coffee waiting for brunch to be ready.

"So are you going to tell me what really happened last night?" Wanda asked taking a sip from her mug.

"I did tell you the truth."

"Bull," Wanda said, "Did Bucky really have a family emergency?"

"That's what he said," Elizabeth shrugged.

"You're really not going to tell me what happened?"

"No, not yet," Elizabeth says, "All you need to know is that Bucky and I are officially done. And he had to leave early."

"Are you okay?'

"Currently?" Elizabeth ponders, "No. I just want to put it in the back of my mind for the rest of the weekend. I just want to enjoy this. Once I'm back to reality I'm sure I'll have another good cry.

"Then I'm sure I'll be ready to tell you everything that happened las tonight. But for now let's not even think about that."

"Whatever you say," Wanda said, taking another sip of her coffee watching Elizabeth closely.

Wanda wanted to keep asking questions but she knew Elizabeth's plan was probably for the better let her have her last two days of peace, because come Monday once Elizabeth is back in Brooklyn that'll all be out the window. And Wanda will be there to help pick up the pieces. __________________

Wanda was right. That Monday afternoon as they got back to the Sanchez house, Elizabeth let all her built up emotions out. She told Wanda everything that happened, even the kiss with Steve. Elizabeth expressed her confusion over everything. Wanda assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything or anybody but herself.

So that's what Elizabeth did.

A week after everything had happened Bucky tried to talk to Elizabeth.

"Bucky, I get that you're sorry about what had happened," Elizabeth said as they stood outside on her front porch.

"But as much as I love you and as much as I want to try and put this behind us, I can't," she told him, "You've done this to me two times already, and I can't do this with you again."

"No matter what you say, nothing is going to change my mind," she explained to him, "As much as I want to forgive you again and try and get pass this, I just can't put myself through all this again.

"I loved you with all of me and you destroyed that, twice. I won't let that happen again. I can't go through this again. All you know how to do is hurt me more than anyone else has ever done. I need to protect myself and to do that I can't be with you."

Bucky stared at the broken girl in front of him and nodded his head admitting defeat. He knew what she was saying all true, and there was no coming back from it. He made their kingdom fall apart and he had to live with the consequences from that.

That summer she spent most of her free time to herself. She would also see Steve once a week, they didn't classify those hangouts as dates since they were not going to rush anything.

At the beginning of August, Elizabeth went to go spend a week in Boston with Wanda and her family. It was a nice getaway from Brooklyn.

Once she was back she had two weeks before she moved back to California for the new school year. She was very excited to get back to her life there.

New York had officially destroyed her.

Elizabeth and Wanda got back to California a week before class had officially started. They spent that week unpacking and setting up their new apartment.

Once school had begun any chance of a social life kind of went out the window. Elizabeth threw herself into her school books. She would occasionally find herself being a third wheel now that Wanda and Thor were official. Loki also wasn't throwing as many parties as he used to because he was focused on graduating top of his class that year. On top of applying to the most prestigious law schools in the country.

Elizabeth did find herself lonely sometimes. Those around her had all mysteriously been paired off.

One three day weekend Elizabeth had the apartment to herself Wanda had gone off to Malibu with Thor, who had found a job in LA.

The dread of loneliness was overwhelming. So she found herself inviting Steve to stay the weekend, as friends of course. Steve did not hesitate to accept the offer. That Friday night he was sitting in Elizabeth's living room.

"What do you feel like eating?" Elizabeth asked Steve handing him some takeout menus.

"Lets go for this Italian place you're always raving about," he says handing her the takeout menu for the little mom and pop eatery.

"You're going to love this!" Elizabeth grinned with giddy.

__________

After dinner Elizabeth and Steve were sat on the floor of the living room, laughing and just enjoying each other's company.

"Remember in the seventh grad that horrible haircut you got the day before picture day," Elizabeth laughed leaning into Steve's left side.

"No, lets not remember that!" he laughed, "I can't believe my dad did that to me. My mom was so mad he did that."

"The fact that that's the photo your dad keeps in his wallet makes it even funnier."

"Hey at least you weren't brace face," she tells him.

There was a pregnant pause of comfortable silence.

"Thanks," Elizabeth quietly said.

"For?" Steve asked confused.

"Coming this weekend," she says, "And for being patient."

"Patient?"

"You know with everything," she awkwardly says playing with her fingers.

It clicked in Steve's head what Elizabeth meant.

"You definitely don't need to thank me for that," he tells her, "Plus like I said three months ago, it wouldn't have felt right, not after what had happened."

"I know," she says suddenly feeling insecure about herself, "I just don't understand why you would even want to wait for me."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked confused why she would even say that.

"I mean look at me," she says signaling to herself causing Steve to shake his head.

"I'm no Natasha," she timidly says, "I'm not bold like her. Or confident, or sexy."

"Stop," Steve sternly said, grabbing her face to look at his, "Do not and I repeat, do not compare yourself to Natasha Romanoff. Because you would win in a landslide."

"Please," she scoffed, trying to turn her head away but Steve wouldn't let her.

"Elizabeth Sanchez, you are the most smartest, kindest, sexiest person I have ever known. And the fact that you have no clue that you are just makes you even that more amazing. You don't think you're better than anyone else.

"You have never once looked down on others. You are the first person to reach out to someone in need, never expecting anything in return. You're right, you are no Natasha Romanoff, because you're a million times better."

Elizabeth had tears streaming down her face, completely stunned by Steve's words. she's never heard anyone speak about her in that light. She did the only thing she could think of to do. She closed the space between them, pressing her lips against his.

Steve was taken back at first, but quickly reciprocated the kiss.

They both slowly pulled apart.

"You didn't have to do that," Steve whispered.

"I know, but I wanted to. I've wanted to since your birthday, after we first kissed," Elizabeth confessed, "And it's the best way I could think of to thank you for those kind words. Over the last few months, you've just been my rock.

"I didn't think I would ever feel that way again. Not after everything. My self esteem really took a massive hit. And you've helped me rebuild that, just by being my friend. Listening whenever I I needed someone to vent to.

"You've never made me feel foolish about my feelings. You always make me see the good things in myself, as crazy as that might sound."

"So what does this exactly mean for us?" Steve askes pointing in between them.

"It means," she says reaching for his hands, "I'm ready to give us a try."

"Are you sure?" Steve asks her, trying to maintain his excitement.

"Incredibly sure," she smiles.

"Then I guess we're really doing this thing," he smiled, leaning in closer.

"I guess we are," she leaned in, closing the gap between them.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Alias

Summary: Bucky starts to remember a certain redhead. The past becomes a reason to connect and a reason to delve back into his treacherous mind.

Pairing: Bucky x Natasha (WinterWidow)

Warnings: Violence

AN: in the light of the post i reblogged of bucky and nat and my small rant, i decided to feed my imagination and console myself over the fact that nat is dead and we never got to see nat/bucky love onscreen. And also, my requests are empty. I’ll be making a masterlist of this soon.

                                           CHAPTER ONE

The first time Bucky ever took notice of Natasha Romanoff, he was watching Steve doodle in the kitchen. The compound was half empty, silent, somber, and Steve had taken to doodling by the light of the moon, and Bucky had always found it especially relaxing to watch his oldest friend do the most mundane thing. And if it hadn’t been for the soft pitter-patter of footsteps on the hardwood floor, Bucky would have watched Steve draw for hours. But the light in the kitchen came on, and both Steve and Bucky looked up and saw a redhead waltzing in unabashedly. 

The rest of the team were out for the night. Usually, Nat was the first to climb into Tony’s sleek car and go to some bar, but tonight, she stayed in. Bucky had never really taken notice in her, besides, well, that time he choked her and slammed her against a metal table. And now she was there, absently rummaging through the fridge, wearing thick leggings and woolen socks, her bright red hair a curled mess. 

Steve went right back to his drawing, neck bent, unbothered by the normal appearance of Natasha. Bucky heard the scratch of Steve’s pencil, but he was unable to bring his eyes back to the paper. 

Ever since Bucky had lived and survived his brainwash, all he’d wanted to do was live in a moderately stimulating world. He’d wanted to rekindle his friendship with Steve, something that had been ripped away from him so harshly. He’d wanted to mend his mind, to bring himself some sort of comfort and solace for the things he’d done. 

He had not thought of striking up a romance. 

Steve smiled, noticing just how intently his best friend was following the redhead with his eyes. “You can talk to her, you know,” Steve muttered, not leaving his drawing with his eyes. 

Bucky frowned, turning his glare abruptly onto his friend. “What?”

They were far enough that Nat could not hear them as she was preparing herself a midnight snack. 

“She’s a nice woman,” Steve continued. “Well, she can be harsh, but I’ve seen her be sweet.” 

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hm.”

But Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because there was something familiar. He’d seen her before. He knew her. His mind was a tricky place to venture in, and he preferred leaving his past with the Soviet Union where it belonged; in the dark confines of his thoughts. But he wanted to know exactly how Natasha fit into that puzzle.

He did his own digging. She was ex-KGB. Black Widow program. Red room. She could be placed with the Russians in the exact timeline where he’d been their perfect weapon, their ideal asset. The more he read, the more he felt like he lived it. The more he felt like he knew all of this already. But just like the Soviet’s had erased Bucky to implant the Winter Soldier, Bucky had done his best to erase the Winter Soldier. 

One thing he kept telling himself was that if Nat knew him, wouldn’t she have come to him already? For answers. For unfinished business. For clarity. Whatever he’d done, to her or with her or despite of her, wouldn’t she have come clean?

Those were too many questions for Bucky’s fragile psyche to endure. For nights, he stirred awake in his bed, wondering if the redhead he couldn’t stop thinking about was afflicted with the same insomnia. He never dared talk to anyone about it, not even Steve. There was too much darkness Bucky did not want to relive. 

But one day, Natasha stumbled upon his search history. She knew immediately that the memories had come to visit, had come knocking on the careful, intricate, and fragile door of Bucky’s mind. 

She went to him then, careful in her approach. He was fresh off the running course, breathless and sweaty. She waited for him by the door, examining his posture. Defensive, when he saw her. She let her arms fall to her sides, open, harmless. 

“Do you remember me?” she asked him carefully. He looked her over slowly, his blue eyes like two different doors to two different times. 

“I think.”

She gulped. “What exactly?”

He shook his head, standing arms length away from her. “I don’t really know.”

Carefully, she stepped forward. Immediately, he stepped back. He’d grown a fear of proximity since his return to his normal self. And not because he was afraid of others, but because he was afraid of himself and the uncontrollable and unpredictability of his mind. 

“I can tell you, if you want,” she offered, tensing at the sound of his metallic arm whizzing as the plates rearranged themselves. 

He bit his lip, eyes cast down, pondering if he’d like to rehash his horrible past. 

“It’s not...” she trailed off, gulping, and Bucky didn’t miss the slight redness of her cheeks. Oh, god, he thought, what did I do to her? “It’s not that bad, actually.” He felt a little bit better. 

“I...” He looked at her; rosy cheeks, wide eyes, mouth parted. “I’d like to shower.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

After his shower, Bucky dressed in jeans and a sweater, and found Nat in the kitchen. She’d made coffee, and two mugs were sitting on the table. His was lightened with milk. She knew how he took his coffee?

When she saw him examining his mug, she cleared her throat. “I guess that’s a good place to start.” They both sat at the table, facing each other. “We were very... close, you and I.”

Bucky nodded. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why, because you’re such a ladies man?”

For the first time in a long time, Nat saw him smile. “I just figured that if you knew how I take my coffee, you knew me fairly well.”

Her eyes snapped down to his coffee mug, to where his fingers wrapped around the cup, flesh and metal. “You’re right.” This time, her tone was less playful. “I guess I should have told you all of this sooner. But when you didn’t recognize me, I was hurt. And then, when you came back, you were so... fragile.”

He winced. 

She continued. “I’m sorry. I owed you this way sooner.”

“I don’t think I was ready,” he offered, examining the cut of her jaw, the wild curls of her hair. Something in his gut shifted. Reconnaissance. Familiarity. Warmth spread in his chest, the kind you get when you are on known ground, when you know you are safe. 

She smiled tenderly. 

Russia, 1998, Red Room. Black Widow Program. Class of ‘84.

Eleven girls, fourteen in age, stood as stiff as metal rods under the green artificial lights of the gymnasium. A series of glistening blue mattresses were spread out behind them, fighting equipment lying vagabond. Gloves. Helmets. Mushy batons. 

Mistress Galina had ordered them all to change into their training uniforms at the the crack of dawn. Natalia stood rigid at the epicenter, watching with vivid eyes as her Mistress stalked into the room. 

“Ladies!” Her voice echoed off the walls sending the renown chill down Nat’s spine. Behind Mistress Galina were two of the trainers and one medic, per usual. 

“Mistress,” came the drawling tone of fourteen young recruits. Galina smiled tightly, standing before the row of girls. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tightly into a knot at the base of her head. She wore the black suit of high-ranking spies of the KGB, outlined with dark red. A Widow suit. 

“Ladies, let me present to you one of your new trainers and our best new asset.” Mistress Galina stepped aside, gesturing tightly to the door. Fourteen pairs of eyes watched as a man walked in. 

Natalia observed him with discreet indifference. She knew what interest got her, and so she schooled her features to remain stoic. 

He was the most frightening man she had ever seen. His hair was chin length, the color of chocolate, obscuring his face, keeping him in the shadows. She could understand why, if he was a new asset. One important and redundant feature that she was taught was anonymity. 

He was of average height for a man, not that she’d seen many. She knew Henrich the medic and two of the fifteen trainers were men. But this man was built different. He walked like shadows, silent and smooth, and Natalia could almost smell the training off of him. But what was more alarming wasn’t the width of his shoulders or the size of his hands or just how impenetrable his chest looked. It was his metal arm.

It glistened under the lights, whizzing as the metallic plates rearranged themselves. As he came to stand dutifully next to Mistress Galina, he eyes remained trained forward, and his metal digits closed into a fist.

He looked inhumane. 

“I assume you are ready to move forward in your training?” Mistress Galina asked. 

The response came quickly. “Yes, Mistress!”

Their training to this day had consisted of fighting dummies or one another. Marksmanship was four times a week, and they had already graduated to sniper rifles. Six hours of school per day. 

“Good.” Mistress Galina examined the row of girls before her with a somber expression. Natalia’s eyes kept finding their way over to the man with the metallic arm. His expression was void, jaw clenched, shadow of a beard on his chin. It was almost as if he didn’t even know where he was. 

“Natalia!”

Nat’s eyes found Mistress and she straightened, chin up as she was taught to respond to her superiors. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Come forward.”

Natalia knew what hesitation got her. She knew the pain; it still echoed in her bones, in her muscles. She stepped forward two steps, hands behind her back. Braid of red hair feeling especially tight at the bottom of her skull. 

“Show me and your trainers what you’ve learned.” 

Natalia frowned. “I beg your pardon, Mistress?”

Mistress Galina smiled tightly again. “Show me and your trainers what you’ve learned in combat training, will you?”

Natalia gulped. She had no selected partner. Was she being given leave to pick her own adversary? She turned her head to her left, examining the row of young girls standing straighter than rods, eyes forward, chests out. Learned, indoctrinated postures. 

She was about to make her choice when a shadow moved in her periphery. Nat’s head snapped forward, eyes sharp, her senses on high alert. She’d been trained well to react to any stimuli. 

The man, moving like a ghost, now stood directly in front of her. He was much taller than her, and much wider. He didn’t seem to care that she was a fourteen year old girl and he was a grown man. He didn’t seem to care that his expression was blank, almost dead. He didn’t seem to care that his metallic hand was twice the size of her wrist as he clamped it around her neck. 

Natalia reacted quickly. Her training had beaten it into her that it was now second nature, instinct, to defend herself. Her feet left the ground, leg wrapping around his arm. Her hands gripped his metal wrist. 

But he was twice her size in weight, and her featherweight did nothing to deter her. 

“You will face off opponents twice your size!” Mistress Galina exclaimed, and the man brought Natalia to the floor with a deafening thud. Nat’s ears started to ring, but she didn’t let her body distract her. He had her in a choke hold, one knee on the ground, her on her back. “You will face off men able to break you like a straw!”

Nat’s lungs burned, but she ignored it as she looped a leg around his neck. The only sign of life he gave was a low huff before he picked her up and slammed her so hard against the ground that her vision went dark and her body went limp. 

“You will have to fight twice as hard as they will!”

Nat’s breathing echoed in her ears. She felt this man, this ghost with a metal arm who moved like a shadow, pick her up. She was like a doll in his arms, her back against the sturdiness of his chest. Natalia had only seen one doll in her life.

When her vision began to return, she saw the thirteen pairs of feet still standing, witnessing her weakness, her loss. Something akin to shame filled her from head to toe, burning bright on her cheeks, and the rage that followed was worse for her training than pride. 

She threw her head back and heard the satisfying crack of bone, the loosening of the Ghost’s arms around her. Seeing her opportunity, she used her slimness to slip through his grasp and send her heel into his booted foot. 

She twist and kicked him in the gut. 

His nose was bleeding when he faced her, but unlike her, he wasn’t seething with rage or coiling with shame. He was as void and as blank as a machine. 

They stood a few feet apart, enough space between them to breathe, to asses. Natalia looked to her Mistress, not surprised to see the total carelessness on her features as she assessed the young girl. Natalia wasn’t done fighting. 

He came back at her with the same expressionless eyes. Natalia dodged all of his punches, receiving a few kicks and shoves, but managed to survive. She could not, however, land any offensive blows. 

“You cannot go on like this, Natalia!” Mistress Galina hollered. “Strike!”

Natalia’s labored breathing left her lungs, but she obeyed her Mistress. The Ghost and her had danced around the training mats a few paces. Natalia decided to strike, using her ingrained tactics. Her knuckles hurt and bruised from the blows she was able to land, but he was remarkably fast, and he returned her punches tenfold. 

He didn’t seem to be tired. He didn’t even seem out of breath. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to avoid her legs as she attempted a wrestling hold and pressed her flush against his chest again. Her arms pinned to her sides. 

“Do not hesitate, Soldat!” Mistress ordered, and Nat wasn’t sure if it was an order to her or to the Ghost. 

She soon got her answer. 

He picked her up as if she was a doll, slamming her body against the floor with such force that a piercing crack echoed in the room. 

Natalia screamed and everything went black and red. Pain blinded her senses, the breath leaving her lungs until her mouth was open in a silent, suffocating scream. Feet shuffled around her, but no one touched her. No one came to her rescue. No one helped her.

She rolled onto her back and gasped loudly, squeezing her eyes shut. Praying that the Ghost would not continue his assault on her. That Mistress Galina would order him to stop. 

But over the buzzing in her head and the throbbing of her heart and the breath in her throat, she heard Mistress Galina yell, “The pain must not stop you from fighting! The mission, ladies, the mission is more important than something as trivial as pain!”

Natalia was sure that her collarbone was broken. She’d broken a few bones in the past; fingers mostly, her left ankle, and her wrist. But this sort of pain was different. 

Things were yelled around her but she couldn’t hear.

Someone grabbed her by the arm, and Natalia screamed as she was picked up, brought to her feet. Opening her eyes, she was met with the shadow of the man, his metal fingers clinging to her bicep. She was unconsciously leaning against him. 

Mistress Galina stood in the wavering line of sight of Nat. “You will fight, Natalia.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she whispered breathless, the pain scattering along her shoulder. She held it in, her left side rigid with pain, as she turned and faced off the Ghost again. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the pain he’d caused her. He was too effectively trained to let such things affect him. 

She brought her arms before her face, wincing and clenching a scream behind her teeth. 

A fourteen-year-old girl against a twenty something man. 

He came at her and this time, the fist he rammed into her ribs was enough to unravel her. She fell to her side, yelling, the world swimming in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of the hand in her bright red hair. As if she was out of her body, she was lifted from the ground and slammed right back into the floor, her head splitting open. There was red on the floor, but Natalia wasn’t sure if it was her hair out of it’s braid or blood.

She didn’t care. She let the darkness take her.

[imagining-supernatural]

Moments of Weakness

Part 4 of But It Burns

Summary: When you hit rock bottom, you have nowhere to go and end up on your former best friend’s doorstop, bruised, bloody, and broken. You aren’t expecting him and his girlfriend to take you in and try to patch up your shattered life, especially with the danger your presence puts them in.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2181

An entire fucking month. For an entire month, the doctor kept you on bedrest. For a whole thirty days, you treated Bucky and Natasha like shit. For a goddamn month, they kept their fake smiles and refused to kick you out.

But things changed the last week. And by things you really meant that you changed.

You didn’t treat them like shit anymore. It was obvious they weren’t going to kick you out. And they didn’t deserve any of this, but you didn’t have much of a choice. You were four months along in your pregnancy. That meant you had five more months until you were at full term. And until the doctor took you off of bedrest, you couldn’t really go anywhere. But as soon as he lifted your restriction, you were heading straight to Ecuador.

Until then, you might as well ease the burden Bucky and Natasha had on you.

So you stayed quiet.

You made polite small talk when you crossed paths in the kitchen, left your door open just enough to let a sense of goodwill settle over the apartment, and you made sure you kept your spaces clean.

The apartment was quiet.

But that just gave your thoughts room to grow.

The silence pulled out the memories you’d rather stay buried deep.

The knife in your hand. Blood all over. Tony’s lifeless, hazel eyes staring up at you.

You’d loved him. Maybe it was wrong. People would say it wasn’t real love. They would tell you that he’d manipulated you into believing it was love. But they were wrong. What you felt for him was real.

That didn’t mean you weren’t scared of him. And when it was just you, you could handle that fear. But suddenly there was a baby in the equation. You loved Tony, but you didn’t trust him.

The last person you’d ever trusted had been Bucky. The only person you ever trusted was Bucky.

“Yeah, one second. She’s just in her room.” his voice grew louder as he walked closer. There was a soft knock on the ajar door and he walked in, holding his cell phone out to you. “It’s Dr. Banner.”

“Thanks.” You couldn’t even meet his eyes when you took the phone. He started for the door before hesitating a moment, as if he was going to turn back to you. But then he continued onward and his footsteps faded as he went towards the kitchen.

Somehow, this new silence was worse than the arguments.

“Hey doc, what’s up?”

“Your stress levels, apparently,” he said. “Bedrest is supposed to help your body relax. You’re not relaxing, Y/N.”

“I’m doing everything right. By the book. Ask Bucky. I can’t eat any healthier or take it any easier.”

“Emotionally, though?”

“I’m fine.”

You’d answered too quickly. It didn’t take a professional to see through your lie.

“Y/N…”

“Why do I feel like you just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar?”

“I don’t know your history, Y/N. But you came to my operating table looking like a punching bag with a police escort. Normally I’m a little more tactful for this conversation, but you’re a straight shooter so I’m just going to put it out there.” He paused for a second and you tried to prepare yourself for whatever he was going to say. “I’d like for you to see a therapist.”

A short bark of laughter escaped. “Fuck no. I’ll do anything you say except for that, doc.”

“Why not?”

Some things are best left in the dark recesses of your brain. He wouldn’t accept that answer though. And you couldn’t come up with one on the spot, leaving yet another span of silence.

“Y/N, if you don’t go to therapy and try to work through some of your issues, you won’t be able to get those stress levels down and you’ll be on bedrest until you go into labor. I know how badly you want to get off bedrest. If you want it, this is your best shot.”

“What are the other options?”

“There are none.”

Great. “Well… I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask, I suppose. Other than that, your tests came back looking pretty good. Pretty steady with your last rounds of tests.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Y/N, I suggest you think very seriously about therapy. Stress isn’t good for the babies.”

“I know,” you whispered. And with that, you hung up the phone and let your head drop back against the wall, welcoming the sharp, brief moment of pain.

Five more months. Could you really handle five more months with Bucky and Natasha? Or should you just take your chances at sneaking out of the country and finish your bedrest in Ecuador?

With a sigh, you slid out of bed and padded into the kitchen where Bucky was on his laptop at the table. You slid him his phone and he grunted you a thanks as you went to the fridge. Pulling out a cheese stick, you paused, staring into the fridge. A fridge fully stocked by Natasha and Bucky.

You couldn’t go to Ecuador until your bedrest was over. Here, Bucky and Natasha were the only reason you were able to do as well as you were. If you were on your own in a foreign country, you’d have to buy your own food. You’d have to find your own source of income. You couldn’t lay around all day.

“Hey Buck?”

His head flew up at your voice. You hadn’t initiated a conversation in a week. “Yeah?”

“What’s the Mob doing? Any of Natasha’s contacts bring in anything good?”

You could tell he had no idea where you were going with this. It was in the set of his head, that slight tilt. The narrowed eyes. Tightening of the muscles of his cheeks. “Nothing really. A few small hits. Big shipment. Nothing ground-breaking.”

“Stefan’s smart. He’s probably flying under the radar right now. Cleaning up the Mob rankings. Making sure everyone is loyal to him, not-not Tony.”

Bucky just nodded absently, mind somewhere else. “Why now, Y/N? Why the sudden interest in—well, in anything?”

“The doc says I’m too stressed. Having a half billion-dollar price on my head isn’t really helping with that. And he really thinks therapy could help. Right.”

“Maybe it would.”

You scoffed at that. “Right. Let’s just dredge up all those memories that make up the shit-storm of Y/N’s life. That’ll help her de-stress. Great plan.”

“It really does help, you know.”

“You know this from experience?”

He nodded, shocking you. He’d gone to therapy? When? The question didn’t leave your lips though, and he sat forward with a different line of conversation. “It could help you understand everything. Why you do what you do. Like why you killed that first guy… how many years ago was it again?”

“Shit, you don’t give up, do you? I know why I do what I do. I don’t need to pay someone to tell me the technical terms for what kind of fucked up I am.”

“Then talk to me,” he offered. “I can’t tell you technical terms, but I’m pretty good at untangling people’s pasts. It’s kinda what I do.”

“You’re a private investigator, Bucky. You get paid to find out if someone is cheating on someone else.” The jab was received well, and he just half-smiled and pushed out the chair across the table with his foot. You eyed the chair for a moment before grabbing an apple and sitting down. It was the first time you’d sat at the table in over a week. This was the longest conversation you’d had with anyone.

“So, Y/N, have you been back to Joe’s Diner?”

“What?” You and Bucky used to go to Joe’s Diner all the time your freshman year of college. Midnight milkshake runs, greasy burgers for breakups, and pie to celebrate a good grade. It was your go-to place. And somewhere you hadn’t thought of in years.

“Joe’s. It’s still there, you know. I pass it at least once a week.”

“Of course, it’s still there. Best damn burgers in the city.” Your mouth was watering just thinking about it. “It would be a disgrace if it were to shut down.”

“Agreed. So? You been there lately?”

This normal conversation was throwing you off and you couldn’t find your voice, so you just shook your head.

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I’ll pick some up next time I’m out.”

“I don’t think that falls under Dr. Banner’s menu of acceptable pregnancy bedrest food.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Bucky said with a shrug. “One night can’t hurt.”

“You know,” you started hesitantly, heart beating way too fast. “Those were the exact words Shantelle used to get me to try cocaine the first time. One night can’t hurt.”

“Well, Shantelle’s a fucking idiot. I’m not. And I think we both could use one of Joe’s famous burgers.”

The fact that he didn’t react to your first real reveal of a piece of personal information somehow made it easier to relax back into your chair. “And one of this chocolate caramel milkshakes. I think that’s exactly what I need. Shit, now that you brought up Joe’s, I know that’s what I’ve been craving for the last two months.”

“Remember that time you dumped your milkshake on that jerk’s head because you got in that argument and he said that Emily Dickinson was obviously straight?” Bucky’s laughter prompted a few light chuckles from you. “Man, that was golden.”

“Don’t forget the best part! I made him buy me another milkshake. I can’t believe I actually got him to buy a milkshake.”

Bucky’s laughter grew louder as the memory took shape. “Shit, I forgot about that! And didn’t you also talk him into tipping Crystal twice what the milkshake cost?”

“That fucking moron deserved it.”

Your cheeks were starting to hurt, which was a sad testament to how little you’d smiled in the last few months. If less than five minutes of smiling and laughing could make your cheek muscles protest, what did that say about you?

“I should have made him clean up the milkshake too,” you mused, trying to push aside your negative thoughts for a moment. You wanted just one moment of happiness. A minute or two. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Apparently not, because when Natasha walked in half an hour later, you were still at the table with Bucky, reminiscing about better days.

“Hey, babe,” Bucky greeted with an easy smile. Your own smile fell slightly as your little bubble of comfortable happiness was popped, but you tried like hell not to let it show. You liked Natasha. You just didn’t know her as well as you knew Bucky.

“Hey yourself. How was your day? Both of you?”

She was surprised to see you out of your room, you could tell. But thankfully she didn’t let it show too much.

Bucky took the lead in the conversation. “Great. I closed one of my cases—the one with the Remus’s boy. And I made Y/N remember that time she tried square dancing—”

“Fucking shut up, Buck! You promised that would stay between us.”

He shot you a shit-eating grin, teasing you like nothing bad ever happened between the two of you. “You knew from the get-go that Natasha and I have no secrets. But I do promise that I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Fuck you,” you muttered, half laughing. “Not all of us can be as graceful as you are, Barnes.”

“It’s annoying, isn’t it?” Natasha asked. “We took a ballroom dancing class and he looked like he’d been doing it his whole life, but I kept stepping on everyone’s toes and tripping over nothing.”

“I think he sucks the gracefulness out of every else in the room and keeps it for himself,” you agreed.

“Whatever helps you two sleep at night,” Bucky said smugly, leaning back and locking his fingers behind his head.

With an eyeroll, you stood up. “Well, you enjoy that high horse you’re on. I’m going to go lay down for a while.”

Natasha excused herself before you could leave, but not before sharing one of those silent conversation looks with Bucky. Once she was gone, he grabbed your hand loosely, waiting until you looked down at him. Gone was the joviality in his eyes, replaced by a serious gleam. “Y/N? That thing with Shantelle and the cocaine? Was that when things started going downhill for you?”

Your voice was stuck in your throat and you had to swallow a few times and look away before you could answer. “I don’t know. Maybe? I… I don’t know. That might have been the first step off the path. But completely downhill? That came after.”

He nodded a few times before squeezing your hand. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

All you could do was lift your chin in acknowledgement, tug your hand from his, and head down the hall to your room.

NEXT: Truth Is A Double-Edged Sword coming soon

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[soldierswar]

Cascade - Chapter III

Pairings: Winter Soldier X Natasha Romanoff, Bucky/Nat, WinterWidow (however you want to call it. 

Summary: Natasha goes off on her first assignment with the soldier. But now...she has to battle feelings that she begins to have. 

Some fluff, a lil’ angst

Warnings: Mild sexual themes, murder.

Masterlist for previous chapters

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           The day had come.

           Natasha was in Prague in a very nice hotel room preparing for what was to take place that night.

Target #1 was a congressman who had had mild affiliation with heads of the Red Room in the past. But he had recently started to indicate signs of turning on them.

Target #2 was a Russian official that had close affiliation with him. Red Room had big leads and reason to deduce that target number #1 started talking potential intel with him.  

           Big mistake.

           For this assignment, Natasha had to pretend that she was an elite, high-end Russian escort…(Of course she did).

           Ever since she had turned 18 six months ago, they had used her and other young girls to pose as such. At the very least, they didn’t necessarily or always have to pretend to be ladies of the night. Depending on the setting, they would just pose as drunk party animals who were willing to be taken home after one conversation with an important, rich man.

           Luckily, they never went as far as to sleep with them. In fact, there would be serious consequences if they did so.

           The event that Natasha would be attending would be an elite black-tie event that only some of the most powerful European social, or political figures would be allowed to attend. Since the event wasn’t based on talking about politics, there was a loophole on how to get in. There were some extra plus ones who were allowed to attend other than a spouse or romantic partner.

           Another fact about this loophole, nobody asked questions if there were singular individuals who weren’t attached to someone from the beginning posing as an “extra cousin” to whoever they decided to point a finger at. It was a very well known, but unspoken truth that the majority of these “unknown plus-one’s” were men and women (as previously mentioned), “of the night”.

           This was why Natasha’s cover was perfect.

           Her target was single, and to an extent famous for being one of those men to take one of these women home.

           Her assignment didn’t quite start at the gala. She had to make sure that she had his attention before she got there.

           While walking down the street where she knew he would be that afternoon, she bumped into him.

She knew that he could react in two different ways.

           One, he could passively curse her and be on his way.

           Two, she would make sure that he caught her innocent looking eyes, and proceed to look at her apologetically as she continued on her way.

           She accomplished on getting the latter.  

           The purpose of that interaction was to make sure that he did in fact catch her eye, but not enough to study her face. So when he’d see her at the gala looking for his next expensive conquest, she would be the one he was more drawn to on the basis of subconscious familiarity.

           As she zipped up her new silk black dress, she couldn’t help but admire herself.

           It was long, so it covered her six-inch, gold strappy heels. But there was a long slit to the side that reached slightly above her knee. There was also a long v-line that reached the middle of her chest, but didn’t end up showing any cleavage. She looked both sexy, and classy at the same time.

Going out to events, or parties were something she never really got to experience in her real life. It made her wonder what it would be like to go out with people she knew and liked in a normal setting. Something outside of sneaking into somebody’s room and drinking booze that somebody else had smuggled in with 3 or 4 other people in the Red Room quarters in the middle of the night.

She wanted a man to look at her in dresses like the one she was in and fall in love with her. For a man to see her as more than some conquest that he either was planning to pay for, or to just be another one-night-stand.

She wanted to be around a man that she actually liked. And she especially wanted to be around a man that she actually wanted to see her in that kind of way without having to kill him within a few minutes.

As she attempted to fasten her diamond bracelet, she heard a soft knock on her window. She snapped her head to the side and found the soldier standing by the sliding glass door of the her balcony.

She made her way over and opened the door, letting him in.

“Hi,” she greeted confusedly.

He didn’t say anything as he entered, was gave her a once over. In fact, she couldn’t help but feel suspicious that he was…admiring her?

Without saying anything further, she outstretched her arm toward him and set the bracelet onto her wrist holding one side and silently signaled for him to help her fasten it.

It took him a second for him to stop looking at her in the dress and realize what she was trying to get him to do. When he did, he ever so softly took the other side and snapped it closed.

“Hi,” he finally replied.

She smiled, and held back a chuckle.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come by,” she said.

“Just wanted to make sure plans were in sync,” he replied.

Figures.

“I make sure my target is alone with me before the gala is over, and when your target leaves at the end of the night, you finish your end, correct?”  

He nodded.

“You look nice,” he said.

She blushed, and immediately turned her face and cleared her throat to try to mask it.

“Thank you,” she replied.

She turned back to face him, and found herself gazing into his eyes.

She hated when this happened.

Ever since their first session with training together, she found herself getting lost in those bright, blue-grey eyes of his. They were beautiful, and honestly so was the rest of him.

It had to be impossible for a young girl like her not to be absolutely enamored with his looks. He was tall, incredibly muscular, and as mentioned before, his eyes alone could captivate any person alive.

No matter how much she tried to fight it…She couldn’t deny the physical palpitations within her chest.

When she thought about wanting a man to see her in the kind of light in the context that she wanted…She couldn’t help but think about him. And she honestly wasn’t sure how to handle the idea of it actually coming to fruition.  

Maybe she was just hopeful. Maybe she had made every lingering glare towards her up in her mind. That she was just projecting how she was trying to suppress looking at him, onto him actually looking at her.

And why was it him of all people that did this to her?

“So I guess I’ll see you after,” she confirmed.

“Once the job is done?”

He nodded silently once again. Again, noticing that his eyes weren’t stoic like before they had landed in Prague…But as though he were maybe admiring her.

They took a moment, and continued to stare at each-other as though the other were unsure on what to say next. Maybe there was truth to her suspicion. She at least knew that she didn’t know what to do.

She decided to turn back to the full sized mirror and make sure that she did still look perfect.

And she did.

She also hoped that he would notice that.

…

Three hours had passed, and both jobs were done.

By the time the assassination of target #1 had happened on the streets of Prague after the event, Natasha had already taken target #2 to his hotel room.

She wasn’t quite sure which target was dead first. All she knew was that neither of them knew that the other was dead by the time they themselves had met their demise.

When at the gala, she had caught eyes with her target the exact way that she had expected him to. Coincidentally, he was deep in conversation with target #1.

A few moments after he caught eyes with her, he joined her by the bar and offered to buy her a drink.

She accepted, and carried conversation. When he asked her who she was with, she quietly confided that she wasn’t actually there with anyone. That was the subliminal signal that he in-fact was looking for.

The only thing that was important was that he wanted her, and that money was no object towards what he wanted.

She made sure that he took her to his hotel room before the gala was over, and the soldiers target was still alive. If he had been executed before her target, security would definitely be circling around them immediately. And after figuring that he might be safe…the press might have been circulating around to figuratively execute a rising political figure looking for an expensive lay.

She played things off in a way that made him think that he was not allowed to touch her until they were alone, and secure within closed doors. That until they were ready to seal the real deal, no hand nor lips would be used toward each-other in any way, shape, or form. This especially helped her make sure that things were discreet, and nobody would notice her actually interacting with him.

When they actually did make it to the room as according to plan, she pretended to want to make extra drinks for them just for the fun of it. It was obvious that a man like him was never going to decline that sort of offer. Especially when the expensive hotel room included a full bar.

When she reached down to grab a half-full bottle of gin (of course he had drank half of it within the two days that he was staying there), she poured the lethal powder in the cup before adding the gin along with it without him noticing.

By the time she had finished pouring, the powder was completely invisible. And because of that, when he drank half of the glass within one gulp, he didn’t suspect a thing.

Within seconds of him finishing his drink after the second gulp, his airways began to constrict, and he was dead after thirty seconds as she stood in-front, and practically atop him as his body succumbed to the inevitable.

There would hardly be an investigation on his death.

The solution that she was ordered to give him would mimic something like a drug overdose. One that could be explained as  a result of intense grief for his fallen best-friend.

Based on the fact that there was half a bottle of gin that was finished in that room that had obviously been fully stocked before him checking in the previous night, and the actual stash of cocaine hidden in his briefcase, it was as easy case to cover up.

She pressed some powder against, and up his nose, and made two perfect lines on the nightstand next to what would look like an absurd amount of tracts of already snorted lines.

When she exited the room nobody was around, and she knew that the cameras wouldn’t catch her because those had already been taken care of by her superiors.

Mission was accomplished without a trace.  

And by the time she made it to her room, undressed, slipped into her sleepwear, and turned on the tv news, she knew that his job was done too.

Natasha could not sleep right away. She knew that she wouldn’t.

Although she was doing what she was highly trained and skilled to do, it didn’t stop the occasional flashback, or spark of guilt to hit her right after.

Her superiors were still working hard to beat that trait out of her. Although she never protested any one of her assignments, they could always tell that there was always at least just a little feeling of hesitation within her. No matter how hard she tried to mask it.

She flipped through channels and watched a few minutes of shows that she was never able to watch unless she was in the kind of setting that she was in then. Some of them were pretty funny, and entertaining too.

Suddenly, she heard a knock on the glass window once again. This time, she recognized who’s knock it was.

She quickly walked over and opened the door for him before anybody could notice that he was there. Granted, he was masterful at going unnoticed.

How was it possible for nobody to notice a guy with a shiny metal arm ending up on her balcony?

But this time, he wasn’t in uniform. He was dressed like a normal person. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt, a leather jacket on top of a hoodie, and one glove concealing his left hand.

He pulled his hood off when he walked in, after the window was closed along with the curtain.

This time, she was the one that was attempting to conceal the once-over. He looked…He looked so different than how he usually did when he wasn’t in uniform.

This did not help the palpitations.

When she stopped noting what he was wearing, she began to realize that she wasn’t exactly dressed in a way that he was used to seeing her either.

She had a pair of black, silk shorts on and a tight, grey, ribbed tank-top that did nothing to conceal what was under her shirt. She began to feel herself blush, so he crossed her arms in a sad attempt to cover her chest. Not that she was really thinking that he noticed.

“I suppose they want a mission report?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Target is down, and there should be no ounce of suspicion. They’ll probably just figure that it was tied to…well…your end of the assignment.”

“Good.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I see you completed swiftly.”

He nodded.

“I walked by the scene where the crowd congregated to confirm that it was done, minutes after I hit him.”

That probably explained the outfit.

“Right through his skull in one shot,” she stated, repeating what she had heard on the news no ten minutes before.

“You never do miss, do you?”

That question was rhetorical, and he treated it as such.

“So we have everything covered,” he said.

She nodded.

“Are you going to climb off of my balcony again? Because you know that you can just walk out of the front door like a normal person right now.”

His lips curled into a light smile. That damned smile that caused that damned feeling again.

“Here,” Natasha said.

“I’ll walk you out.”

He followed as she made her way over to the door.

By the time she reached to open the doorknob, he had beat her to it before she could even register; causing her hand to land right on top of his. She couldn’t help but let her hand linger, despite the normal instinct that would be to pull back. But at that moment, didn’t want to not feel the warmth of his hand beneath hers no matter how much the contact made her feel like snakes were circulating around her stomach and chest.

She looked up at him and noticed his expression. His right brow was knit in mild confusion, but he didn’t seem disturbed or even at the very least…uncomfortable.

What Natasha was about to do next was risky. She knew that. In fact, it was probably stupid. No, it was stupid. There was no reason why she should think that that was an acceptable thing to do, but she felt like he had to do it.

She took her hand off of his, and waited to see if he would rush out.

But he didn’t. He looked at her as intensely as she probably was probably looking at him. Almost as though their energies had matched. (Except for that fact that he might not have felt like air was being constricted from his lungs.)

So…she followed through.

She lightly brushed the side of his cheek, and kissed him softly.

And he didn’t pull away.

[thebansheeofgallifrey]

Fic Recs?

Looking for well written BuckyNat stories. Stories that don’t have Stucky, Tony/Steve, or Darcy Lewis as a main character in them. Any suggestions? I’ve been through most of AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Thanks!

[diversiformheros]

@bchemianrhapscdy​​ continued

A playful glare is coming from the redhead perched on the arm of the armchair they had picked out a few weeks prior, cheeks flushed from how flustered and worked up she had gotten over her failure of understanding how to put the crib together. “Probably a bit of both.” Her frustration is also over just how much less energy she had then before, the second trimester was already kicking her ass and she hated how easily she ached. But if asked she wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. Natasha never thought this was going to be something for her in life, not after her graduation day, not after their s c a t t e r e d years of being together and it not happening until now. But it was making her believe just a little bit more in fate. There’s a fond look of admiration and awe in her eyes as she watches Bucky set to the task she had though difficult and what had caused the current aching of her back from bending over and reaching down for tools and parts just to drop them right back in their places. “Or maybe I just like watching my man work.” 

A gentle sigh comes from the redhead as she runs her hand over the still growing baby bump that was once her slim stomach. “I can’t wait either, I’ll be able to touch my toes again.” A simple task that had turned into a trying feet just in the past two weeks. Her entire body protests as she forces herself to her feet, biting down on her lower lip to silence a groan that wanted to escape as her feet scream at her being back on them so soon. But Nat feels bad for making Bucky do all the heavy work, it’s why she tried to put the thing together on her own in the first place. “A list is a good idea, my pregnancy brain is horrid.” There were times she’d be on a call now  even with Bucky and she’d hang up with a task set on her mind that faded within the next few moments.

[skykathrynarts]

I am a sucker for WinterWidow.

[ivarren]

Hi sorry I don't mean to bug you but I saw your comments in regards to that deleted Bucky/Natasha scene and I agree with it because I had heard similar rumors about it last year as well. Just curious if you knew anything else about it (: ?

It was apparently about Steve at some point during their airport fight. Both of them admitting that they care about Steve. Only options where they could’ve talked was while Bucky being evulated but then Natasha had a scene with T’Challa and was with other or at airport others don’t see where. Personally i believe @natashabucks more than twitter rumours.

[softbunny52]

Ghost by Halsey

(I swear this song low key gives me BuckyxNatasha vibes!)

I’m searching for something that I can't reach

I don't like them innocent

I don't want no face fresh

Want them wearing leather

Begging, let me be your taste test

I like the sad eyes, bad guys

Mouth full of white lies

Kiss me in the corridor

But quick to tell me goodbye

You say that you're no good for me

'Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve

And I swear I hate you when you leave

I like it anyway

My ghost

Where'd you go?

I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost

Where'd you go?

What happened to the soul you used to be?

You're a Rolling Stone boy

Never sleep alone boy

Got a million numbers

And they're filling up your phone, boy

I'm off the deep end, sleeping

All night through the weekend

Saying that I love him but

I know I'm gonna leave him

You say that you're no good for me

'Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve

And I swear I hate you when you leave

I like it anyway

My ghost

Where'd you go?

I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost

Where'd you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be

I'm searching for something that I can't reach

My ghost

Where'd you go?

I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost

Where'd you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be

[afictionaladventure16]

Oooh can you please tag me in the upcoming buckyxnatasha daughter fic?! It looks sooo good

Of course!!!

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

illicit affairs

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

Word count: 2393

Warnings: some swearing, nothing too unsettling, Bucky being Bucky.

[a/n: please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist or if you’d like to be removed. If you’d like to be added to the taglist just simply message me]

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19

Year: 2013

Location: New York

When Bucky had brought up taking it slow with Elizabeth he truly meant it because he wanted to give their relationship a fair shot. He really did want the relationship to work. He really wanted to be with Elizabeth again.

At least that's what he had thought.

For the past year, while away at school he always had this notion that they would be getting back together once they returned fro the summer.

For the first couple of months at school Bucky ignored any person who tried getting with him. He was determined to change, to prove to not just Elizabeth, but to himself that he's a changed man.

He was going to focus on himself. Truly work on himself.

And it was all going well until he and his roommate Sam went to a party. The party was being thrown at a nearby fraternity. Everything was going well until these two girls started to flirt with him and Sam.

Bucky ended up leaving with one of the girls and as did Sam.

Bucky had woken up the next morning feeling completely awful about what he had done. He spent the greater part of his morning self-loathing.

Once Same had gotten back he became worried over seeing the state Bucky was in.

"Hey are you okay?" Sam asked

"No, I fucked up," Bucky said sitting at the edge of his bed, pulling on his hair.

"What did you do?" Sam asked concerned.

"I hooked up with that girl from last night."

"Are you serious?" Sam shook his head in disbelief over Bucky's freak out.

"Yes, I'm serious."

"Aren't you single?"

"Yeah," Bucky looked at him as if he had three heads.

"Did you both consent to having sex?" Sam asked sitting down on his own bed across from Bucky.

"Yeah."

"Then I don't see the problem," Sam said, "You both consented and you're both single. So what am I missing?"

Bucky froze. Realistically he didn't do anything wrong. He and Elizabeth weren't together, and it's not like she knew he wanted to get back together. Plus, she was on the other side of the country. It's not like she would hear about this.

"You're right. There isn't a problem," Bucky said, feeling himself calming down, "Just had a bit of a moment."

"Are you sure you're good now?" Sam asked, "I don't want to come back from taking a shower to find you spiraling again."

"Yeah, I'm good," Bucky assured Sam.

That girl wasn't the last girl Bucky hooked up with. But he also didn't go crazy with it. He was at NYU on partial scolarship, so he needed to also focus on maintaining high grades.

Over the course of his first semester he found a good balance between school and having a personal life. The one thing Bucky did make sure not to touch was alcohol. Growing up he had a front row seat to the negatives of what alcohol could do to a person. The last thing he ever wanted to do was be like his father.

By the end of his first year of school he was thriving, mentally and physically. He had made it onto the Dean's List and he made a lot of wonderful new friends. He had also decided to take some summer courses, wanting to speed up his timeline to graduate.

For the first time in a very long time Bucky was proud of himself. He couldn't wait to show Elizabeth the young man he had become. Someone worthy of being with her.

Bucky was back home a week before Steve was due to return. He had spent part of the week unpacking and spending time with his family.

It was one day, the same day Steve was flying back in, that he took Rebecca to the mall.

Rebecca was browsing the candles in Bath and Body Works, that's when Bucky bumped into her.

Natasha Romanoff.

He hadn't seen her since the end of last summer before she left to go to Yale University.

Nothing romantic had happened between them after everyone found out about their affair. Natasha did try bringing up the idea of them giving it a try, but Bucky had told her he wasn't ready for that. His head space wasn't in the right place to be with anyone.

"Hey Bucky," she smiled brightly, subtly checking him out.

"Uh hey Nat," he awkwardly said.

"You look good," she complimented him.

"So do you," he cleared his throat, finally taking in her appearance.

He would be lying if he didn't say she didn't look good, hell even better than before.

"I see you're back as well," she lightly laughed, trying to make small talk.

"Yeah, just got back last week," he said, "When did you come back?"

"Two days ago," she said, "It's kind of weird being back home, not going to lie."

"Yeah I know what you mean. Even though I was close by, it feels weird," he laughed.

"Bucky, I'm ready to go," he turns around to see Rebecca walking up to them with a bag in her hand.

"Hi Rebecca," Natasha friendly greeted.

"Hi," Rebecca said curtly forcing a fake smile.

Bucky's eyes widen at his sister's rude behavior. Before he could say anything Rebecca was already by the exit of the store.

"Sorry about that," he embarrassedly apologized.

"No worries," Natasha lied, shaking off the feeling.

"I better go," Bucky said starting to walk away, "It was good to see you again."

"You too," she said.

As Bucky walked away, Natasha called out his name. She walked to where he was standing in front of the open store door.

"Maybe if you have some time today, you want to meet up for some coffee?" She hesitantly asked.

Bucky didn't know what to say. He knew he should've rejected the offer, but after the way Rebecca treated Natasha he felt like he needed to accept. And a part of him was missing her.

"Sure," he smiled, "I have to drop off Rebecca first, how about we meet at the cafe a block away from the high school in 30 minutes."

"Deal," she winked.

Bucky thought he was being careful. He thought he had covered up the tracks of what had happened in his car two hours before picking up Steve.

He thought wrong, the second Steve held up Natasha's red lace panties.

After his hook up with Natasha he had promised himself that that was it. With Elizabeth being back home, he couldn't risk her finding out.

Bucky was clearly lying to himself.

That first week Steve was back he alternated going from Steve's to Natasha's. Making up excuses about where he was. Steve didn't suspect a thing, too focused on unpacking his things.

Bucky was actively avoiding his house, afraid of seeing Elizabeth. Part of it was that he wasn't ready to see her quite yet, the other part was guilt for what he was doing with Natasha.

He tried to push that guilt aside, reminding himself that the difference this time was that he was actually single. He and Natasha even agreed to keeping it casual, seeing as Bucky would be busy with school this summer.

When Bucky saw Elizabeth walk into the Rogers' backyard all his thoughts stopped. Steve was right, she looked happy.

He was taken back when she made the first move to talk to him. He was even more surprised when she invited him into her empty house. Which he declined. It's not like he didn't want to, because he really did. His conscious wouldn't allow him to do so. He knew if he really wanted this to work with Elizabeth, they couldn't rush the process. Bucky went to bed that night promising himself he would end it with Natasha in the morning.

That didn't happen.

He told Natasha the truth, that he and Elizabeth were going to try again. When she asked if they were officially back together, Bucky told her no.

He ended up back in her bed.

That's how he spent his summer, going back and forth between the two young women.

It was going well. Or so he thought.

Word had gotten around that he and Elizabeth were spotted out on a date.

Thanks Inez.

So Bucky and Nat had to be extra careful about their meetings. They found themselves meeting in empty parking lots during the early mornings before Bucky headed to class.

As July approached Bucky found his schedule getting much busier, he and Elizabeth weren't seeing each other as often as they were used to.

Truth be told he and Elizabeth weren't even being physical with each other.

Not for the lack of trying on Elizabeth's part. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, not when he had spent his mornings with Natasha.

He knew she was getting slightly frustrated. He just kept telling her that he needed them to take it slow. He knew he would have to end it with Natasha, if he wanted to be with Elizabeth.

So that's what he did.

The week of Steve's birthday Hamptons getaway, he ended it with Nat. He explained to her how he really needed him and Elizabeth to work.

Natasha pretended to understand letting him know there weren't any bad feelings between them.

She spent that week crying over the same boy who couldn't love her back. She felt humiliated about letting him do this to her once again.

Yet she couldn't help but to long for him.

She loved Bucky like she had never loved anyone else.

If that meant always coming second to Elizabeth Sanchez, she would. As long as she had him.

______________

Natasha ended up going to the Hamptons with some of her sorority sisters for the 4th of July. They had heard about a party down the street and decided to check it out. Natasha wasn't expecting to find anyone she knew there, let alone Bucky, with Elizabeth by his side laughing.

She managed to avoid Bucky and any of her hometown classmates. She didn't want that drama. She also didn't want her new friends finding out about her past.

When everyone went out front to watch the fireworks she stayed behind. She just wanted some time alone, away from the crowds. She also didn't want to see the happy couple together.

As she sat on the couch scrolling through her phone she heard someone walking in. She looked up expecting to see a stranger's face, only to be met with a surprised face Bucky.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked, turning around making sure no one had followed him inside.

"Don't worry, I didn't come here to stalk you," she rolled her eyes, "I'm here with some sorority sisters, didn't expect to see you or them here."

"Oh," Bucky tried to ease his nervous tone, he was standing awkwardly by the living room entrance.

"I'm not going to bite," Natasha said annoyed by the way Bucky is behaving, "So either come into the room or leave."

Bucky hesitated for a second. He knew he could've just gone upstairs to his own room. That would've been the safer choice. Yet he found his body making it's way towards the couch, sitting a cushion away from Natasha.

"Big crowds?" She asked him.

"Yeah just felt a little suffocating," he admits wringing his right wrist.

"Tell me about it," she sighed.

"So are you two official?" Natasha asked looking everywhere but at him.

"Nat," Bucky sighed, not wanting to start any drama.

"What? It's just a question," she raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm going to take that as a no," she answered for him after a few moments of silence.

"What are you trying to prove Nat?"

"Nothing," she defended, "Just don't understand why we had to end things when you two aren't even 'official'."

"Nat, I need this to work with her," Bucky admitted looking into her eyes.

He saw the hurt behind them. He feels guilty for all the pain he's caused her. He never meant to hurt her. Never meant for things to go this way. Bucky truly did care for Natasha, even though it doesn't seem like it. He really did. He just doesn't get why he can't fully give himself to her. He had no trouble physically, and at time mentally. There was just something keeping him from doing so, like a tight grip on his arm tugging him away.

Natasha just stared at the silent boy in front of her.

“I really am sorry for the way everything played out,” Bucky sincerely apologized, feeling his eyes begin to tear up, “I know I keep saying this, but I never meant for all of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Can I ask you just one thing?” She asked clearing her throat, feeling a lump in her throat.

Bucky nodded his head, letting her continue on.

“What makes her so special?” She asked, tears threatening to fall.

“She was my first love.”

“And you were mine,” she confessed, tears silently falling down her face.

Bucky scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, bringing her into his side as she cried.

“Natasha, I really did love you,” he whispered.

“Not more than her,” she looked up in his eyes.

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that. He himself didn’t know if he did or not.

“We never got a proper goodbye,” her voice cracked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Nat-”

“Please,” she begged, “Just one last time. I promise I’ll leave you both alone. Please.”

Bucky quietly got up front he couch, taking a moment to think his next move over.

He surprised Natasha by sticking his left hand out for her to take.

She reached out for it, letting Bucky lead her upstairs to his room. When he reached his room he opened the door for Natasha to walk in, before entering he turned around making sure no one was watching.

_______________

As they walked out Natasha made a joke lightening the mood, causing both of them to laugh as they made their exit.

Bucky walked out behind Natasha, only to meet the eyes of the last person he would want to catch this moment.

He froze in his spot.

Nothings changed.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Alias

Summary: Bucky starts to remember a certain redhead. The past becomes a reason to connect and a reason to delve back into his treacherous mind.

Pairing: Bucky x Natasha (WinterWidow)

Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse

ALIAS MASTERLIST

AN: so for chapter two i wanted to establish more of the origin of winterwidow: how they met and the dynamics between the two. she is still fairly young in this, but more to come between the two as she ages up.

ALSO, i am opening a tag list.

                                         CHAPTER TWO

Bucky sat watching the sun rise. A warm mug of coffee rested on his knee, the heat seeping into his cold fingers. The weather was humid, but the fog rising from the grass announced a clouded, shielded sky. Upon looking up, feeling droplets of rain on his forehead, Bucky examined the incoming rain with nothing more than apathy.

Natasha’s revelations last night had taken Bucky by the gut. He knew, deep inside him, that he was familiar with the redhead, but to the point of having been her trainer? Her mentor, as she’d so said last night? 

Bucky was familiar with the workings of his serum, hence why he understood that to Nat, he’d been the same man she knew since she’d met him at fourteen. Since she’d fought with him and he’d broken her collarbone, ribs, and rendered her unconscious. 

As she had been retelling the story to him, careful in her choice of words, Bucky didn’t feel the familiarity in them. Usually, when someone told him a story, like when Steve recalled their days before the war, he could feel the recollection behind his brows, like a pressure. But this time, watching the truth spill for Nat’s lips, he didn’t feel it. He had to search far inside of him for any spark of the familiar. 

She insisted he take a break, and that break turned into a whole eight hours of sleep plagued by visions of himself with a smaller, frailer, innocent Natalia with flaming red hair. A dead one, that is. That he had killed with his own hands of a well grown man. 

Hydra, the Russians, the KGB, the Red Room; they’d made him do horrible things. Torture, kidnappings, murders, stalking. But as far as he can remember, physically rendering a child of fourteen to a bloody pulp has got to be the worse of it all. 

He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Bucky got up in a swift motion, walking through the glass doors of the compound. The kitchen lights were on and Steve was in the kitchen, brewing more coffee. The smell of his breakfast, eggs and bacon and God knows what else, wafted up to Bucky’s nose. 

“Hey man,” Steve greeted as he saw his friend waltz in quietly. “I made some bacon.”

“I’ll have a plate.”

Even Steve could hear the tightness in Bucky’s voice. Cap turned, faced his friend, and bit the corner of his lip. “You want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, tentatively. “I’m here, you know that. No judgement whatsoever.”

Bucky nodded, the frown on his brows creasing the skin between. A moment passed where the bacon popped and sizzled. Then Bucky cleared his throat. “I just hate hearing, over and over, just how horrible I was.”

Steve was quick but calm in answering. “That wasn’t you.”

Bucky’s head snapped up. “Wasn’t me?” he said. “Steve, that little girl that I basically broke like a plastic doll was beaten by a very real me. And that girl, Nat, was very real too.”

Steve wanted to comfort his friend and it showed in the way he hesitated, hands outstretched, for half a second before shaking his head. “It was Hydra,” he answered. “It was the Winter Soldier. The Bucky I know would never dare lay a hand on a woman and certainly not a child.”

Lips pinched, Bucky nodded, anger and that familiar confusion rising in his chest. “She knew me as the Ghost,” he mumbled, eyes wandering across the floor, unable to meet his longtime friend. “All her life, until, well, until SHIELD fell. She knew me as this elusive, abusive machine.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I know, she told me.” Then he took a step and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, finger’s clenching reassuringly. “I hate what they did to you. To your mind. I hate what they made you do.”

Bucky’s eyes burned with tears, and for the first time in a long time, he let them brush past his lashes and down his cheeks. “Fuck, Steve,” he murmured, dying to lean into his touch. “How could I have done that to little girls?”

Seeing his friend in such pain, Steve went in for a hug, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s head. It was such a vulnerable move, to have his head against Steve’s chest, face pressed in until the shirt was wet from tears. 

When Steve spoke, his voice was strained. “You should ask Natasha for the rest of the story,” he said. “If you want. If you can.”

Bucky nodded, retreated, wiped the tears from his eyes. A lump was still lodged in his throat, but he smiled and wandered back out the kitchen. 

If he was going to get the rest, he’d do it now. Now, when he was ready. 

The compound was quiet given the hour. He knew Sam was still sleeping and Scott was probably up reading a book. The hallways were calm, just the pit patter of the air conditioning and ventilation. Wanda’s room was quiet on the second floor. Vision, who doesn’t really, totally sleep, was hovering above the upstairs living room floor. 

But Bucky knew Nat was awake. She was trained since she can remember, and if she had been under the same care that Bucky had been, she was up early enough. 

The door to her room was ajar. Bucky pressed his knuckles and pushed it open. Her room, bare of any memorabilia like his own, was empty. The lights were off. Bed was made in that army-like preciseness. Clothing and belongings tucked in the closet. 

Bucky went back to seeking her out, and when he found her, she was in the library. Out of all the places he searched, he didn’t expect her to be there early in the morning. 

She glanced up from her book, red hair a wet rope in a braid down her back. She smiled, watching him from her place curled up on an armchair. Standing there for half a second too long, Bucky felt like he was on the verge of something. He felt like he always did when a memory tried to pierce the veil of his mind. 

He took that feeling, that feeling he knew was not good or bad, and walked up to the redhead. 

“Morning.” Her voice was sharp and when he sat down, her eyes watched him with keen intention. “How did you sleep?”

He rolled his eyes. “Bad.”

“Me too.” Then she closed the book and set it on her belly. “Nightmares.”

“Dreams.” Because the worst wasn’t the nightmares. The nightmares, he could handle. What was worse was the dreams that carried hope and love and tenderness; those dreams that were colored pastel pink or blue with laughter and smiles and warmth. Those were the worst. Because when he woke up to the bleak emptiness of his room, to the heaviness in his chest like a ton of bricks had been dropped on him, he knew he could never live what he’d just dreamed about. 

“I used to have dreams when I was young,” she rasped, meeting his gaze slowly. “I used to dream that my mother would come and get me, and we’d walk out of the doors just her and me. Forget the other girls that were training with me. Forget the injustice of it all. We just simply walked out together.”

Bucky frowned. “You remember your mother?” he asked. 

“Only that she had red hair like me,” was Nat’s quiet answer. Her eyes were vacant when she unfurled from her position to sit with her knees facing him. “Then I used to dream that I’d kill everyone in that Room. I’d kill the girls. I’d kill Mistress Galina. The medics. The trainers... You.”

They stared at each other for a second. 

Then Nat continued: “But then those dreams became nightmares, like they always do,” she said. “Hopes and aspirations become the demons chasing you in your nightmares, mocking you.”

“Did you ever have nightmares about me?” he asked, tone almost shameful.

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Russia, 1999, Red Room. Black Widow Program. Class of ‘84.

It had been a year since Natalia had met with and been sorely humiliated by the Ghost, as she called him now. He haunted her nightmares like a plague; every corner, every somber alley or dark hallway, he was there. 

Natalia roomed with three other girls. Bunks. She slept in the second one, bottom bed. Her roommates, Nadia, Tiana, and Lev, were all a few months older than Nat, so when she was transferred to their room, she was forced to bunk in the bottom. 

Lev was the one she was closest to, but in the Red Room, under the constant supervision of the Mistresses, there was no room for attachment. No room for sentiments. It was completely void of any emotion, and if you were caught with a negative emotion, you were sure to spend a few nights in isolation. 

Natalia had learned to cage her feelings between her ribs, to tuck her sadness or her envy between her heart and bones. To tuck vulnerability and sympathy deep down inside of her. 

The ghost himself didn’t look like a man fit for emotion. His face remained as stoic as ever as he walked the girls through fighting stances. He was cold. Calculated. Stiff. The word “no” never sounded so threatening than when it came off his lips. 

Ever since her total humiliation, Natalia had worked tenfold to better her fighting. She was the best among the girls of her class, even so that none picked her as a fighting partner. She was either paired with a trainer or a dummy. 

But the most devastating thing was not her lack of “friends” or the way the Mistresses looked at her or the whispers she heard behind her back. The worst was her knowledge about the Ghost. He was a trained killer. They had emptied his brain and filled it to the brim with training. They voided his feelings, something Natalia wished they’d done to her while they injected her with a reformed version of the Serum. 

But with that knowledge, she could sometimes see it in his eyes. A shift. A quirking eyebrow, a cocking head, squinting eyes. He remembered things, and not things he was supposed to. When those things happened, very rarely, Natalia would see the subtle change; parting his lips, his face going from blank to open in a matter of seconds. Then the guards would come and haul him out. 

When he’d come back, it’s like he had never had that glimpse of his past life. 

And today, during training, he had one of those epiphanies. 

He was not a talkative trainer. Not like the Mistresses. He was quiet, watchful. He was assertive. If Natalia didn’t land a kick the way he’d taught it, she was sure to be told. 

“Higher.”

Nat turned, sweat on her brow, red hair sticking to her wet cheeks. “Yes, sir.”

She tried again, the movement in its entirety, but when she turned to watch his face, he was shaking his head. Brown hair scratch across his stubble. “I said higher.”

“Yes, sir.” This time, breathless, Natalia did it again. She was beginning to feel the days training in her body; bones and muscles straining and aching. 

When she turned, heaving, to face him, he was giving her one of those looks. Faraway. Wide-eyed. Lips parted as if words were trying to come out. Brows pulled up in surprise, as if he was not expecting to be here.

“Sir?” Natalia tried, remaining a respectable - and safe - distance from him. 

Brown brows scrunched up into a frown. “Nat?” The voice that came from him was small, childish, and Natalia’s entire body went into alert. 

The girls had been specifically told by Mistress Galina that if ever the Ghost - or Asset as she called him - were to exhibit any strange behavior, that he be reported. 

But Nat hesitated. His eyes were so clear and blue, as if he knew who he was and what he was. As if he understood. As if everything was making sense. 

He reached out momentarily. Nat saw the way Galina turned abruptly to them, felt the tension in the room snap, the glare on her face. She knew she must have looked as equally shocked as the Ghost, so she schooled her features into a stoic, cold expression and glided her eyes to her Mistress. 

“Ma’am.” Her voice was cold and she all but saw the way the Ghost stiffened. “I request your presence here.”

Galina, dressed in black training gear, jogged to where the Ghost was standing. She took one good look at him, at the way the confusion ran limpid in his eyes, and grabbed her walkie. 

“Asset team in training room eight,” she called. “I repeat, Asset team in training room eight.”

There was a long - but yet short - moment where Natalia stood before the Ghost, clenching her fists. If he decided to bound off, there was no one to stop him right now. With his superhuman strength and the metal arm that glinted in the light of the room, not even Mistress Galina could stop him.

But like all the episodes he’d had before, he just stood there. Looking sadder and sadder. Scared. Empty. 

Then the team came in through the double doors. Assault rifles, black and glistening, paired with a red visor. Helmets. Batons. Tasers. And the doctor behind, in a stark white robe. 

On instinct, as soon as the guards were in the room - twelve in all - the girls backed into the far corner of the room. Natalia joined Lev, sharing a quick look, before standing on guard with the other girls. Mistress Galina, Mistress Hosk, and three trainers came to stand along with them. 

They watched as the team surrounded the Ghost, his eyes wide and fearful. Guns aimed at him, but he didn’t seem to register, or mind, and as the doctor approached him hesitantly with a syringe in his hand, the Ghost let himself be struck across the face. Hair blew into his eyes. Neck exposed to the syringe piercing his skin.

That night, Natalia had a nightmare. What would have happened if he’d decided to run? If he’d finally decided to escape?

[hxans]

BuckyxNatasha

-who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunterBucky is the werewolf, Nat is the hunter that made eye contact mid-hunt and something inside her went “keep this one” so she captured him, waited until morning, and when he transformed, well… Yep, she’s definitely keeping him. (The fact the rest of his pack are some hot buff guys in human form, well, she’ll never admit aloud how much she enjoys watching them play)

-who’s the mermaid and who’s the fishermanNatasha is the mermaid. She didn’t mean to stalk Bucky, but he had the shiny arm, and would sing to the fishes, was careful not to overfish and gentle putting back the ones he couldn’t keep. So it became a game to her, to follow him and sneak closer and closer, ‘til one day he was sunbathing on his deck, and she got close enough to touch, and that shiny silver arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into his lap…

-who’s the witch and who’s the familiarIt’s easy to see Bucky as the witch, with Natasha as the sarcastic and sneakily helpful familiar. But also there’s Natasha as the witch, and Bucky as the familiar who inevitably leads her to trouble. More likely, they’re both witches, and their familiars conspire to get them together to fight off bad forces, and fall in love.

-who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addictNatasha hates coffee but works as a barista. Bucky is very much the addict, and Nat is concerned when he orders over five extra shots every day for a week. She’s already got one coffee addict to look out for in Clint, and now this?

-who’s the professor and who’s the TABucky is the professor–he’s absolutely going to hell–she locks the door–he’s gonna get fired–she smiles at him–needs some goddamn self-control–“isn’t it time for a break from grading papers, professor?”–she’s absolutely worth it.

-who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)Natasha is the knight. Bucky is the prince who rushes in to save the day and needs help getting back out again. She lets him polish her armour as a reward.

-who’s the teacher and who’s the single parentNatasha never expected to be a mother, but it happened that way anyway. And her daughter’s new teacher, Mr. Barnes, how dare he also be the New Hot Neighbour that Clint has been egging her to asking out all summer, doesn’t that violate some sort of ethics code somewhere…?

-who’s the writer and who’s the editorBucky writes, he has some sci-fis and spy novels under his belt, so of course he has Natasha breathing down his neck and how’s a guy supposed to concentrate on words when he’s too tongue-tied and freaking out about her opinion on words he can’t even manage to write because she will read them?

Send Me a Ship and I’ll Tell You…

[thesuperwholockdoctor]

BuckyxNatasha

I stan it.

(This is another edit. If you have ideas for ship names, say them down below, cause mine are shitty)

[biscuitgeekery]

Tagged by @tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land 

rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better

relationship status: single but eh it’s aight I can barely function on my own

favorite color: okay picture G1 Bumblebee; see those colors on him? those are my fave colors

lipstick or chapstick: chapstick

last song I listened to: no idea

last movie I watched: uhhhh I think it was Arrival?

top three shows: Mystery Science Theater 3000, Star Trek: TOS, and G1 Transformers

top three characters: Bones, Sam Wilson, Ironhide

top three ships: uhhhh UhuraxScotty (TOS), Sharon CarterxSteve Rogers (Fight me i dare you let them be happy.) and BuckyxNatasha

I tag @onyeenhok @8kaz8 @jetpacksquirrel @fbexplorer @hergnomieness @jmkirke @hontou-gomi

[nativehueofresolution]

Hi! I don't have tumblr, that's why write this as anon :) I saw your list of buckyxnatasha quotes. I just wanted to tell you that when Natasha says mili moi it means "my dear" or "my darling" but in a very, VERY sweet and romantic way.You probably know this already lol. It's just that russian is so close to my native language so this phrase sounds incredibly romantic, gentle and heartwarming to me.You would only tell this to someone you love deeply.I hope she says it sometimes in the movies ^ ^

Aww, thanks friend! I knew it was the equivalent of 'my dear', but it sounds a lot more intimate from your comments which is 🖤❤️ 'my dear' gets said casually a lot in english, so i really appreciate the extra context ☺️