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zemossunshine · 1 year

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Sunshine Chapter 46

Pairings: Zemo x You Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

Warnings fr this chapter: Threats

You held yourself back in the days Zemo was gone. Scott kept Rebecca entertained with various magic tricks, she loved every one. Asking if he had any other magic friends, she would have loved Victor, but he didn’t appear, but then Zemo wasn’t here. On the last night Hope told you that you didn’t have to take the sleeping tablets, she didn’t know Zemo like you did. He would know if you didn’t and someone would be punished and you weren't about to let that be her or Scott, they gave up their time to look after you and Rebecca, were endlessly kind when you had held them in the grips of your power. Didn’t flinch away, even gave Zemo a quinjet key chain, which you suspected wasn't just a key chain. Hope was so worried when you woke up screaming she ordered Scott out of your room, just because he was male, they had been told what happened or at least had some idea. The shame burned within you, you were not frightened of men, just one really, the one you lived with, the one you were married to, the one there would never be any escape from again.

“You know we lost each other for a while, maybe someone is out there looking for you.” Scott said lovingly holding Hope's hand over a steaming cup of chamomile tea. Your face etched with disdain, you could comment that it was an odd thing to say, it really was, Scott still had optimism, after everything that had happened, after how he had been treated, by his own government. Even after he saved the world, There was only one person looking for you and you walked straight back into his house.

“No, there isn’t, we would have found them by now.” Hope added as she kicked Scott under the table. On some level she knew, she knew that this was a prison, hell you could even say it and they couldn't take you away. She rolled her eyes at the buzzing of her phone, Zemo checking in again, which felt like an alarm going off at five minute intervals. Zemo couldn't exactly refuse any mission because of his own pardon, couldn't claim he had you to take care of, he had to pretend that everything was just as fine as you did, especially as he finished the job you and Maria started, you no longer existed, Zemo took it all.

–

Waking up to an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew Zemo was back, that had to be it. Zemo was back, he had to be, that or something worse, not that you could discount that, there always seemed to be something worse. You were so cynical now, you could just lay in bed forever until the day you didn’t wake up again, get the freedom Victor longed to give you. The sleeping tablets took you under, but they didn't keep you asleep, today they had, at least you hadn't spent half the night pacing your room. Grunting you knew that Zemo would drag you out of bed if he had to and you knew it would take very little for him to feel like he had to. Huffing at yourself, you couldn’t exactly complain, you wanted this, you willingly came here, you coerced, planned, even threatened Maria. Swinging your legs over the bed, you took what you hoped would be a calming breath, placing your hand on the edge of the bed to push yourself up, you stared at the alarmingly familiar black bracelet. Hell no. Prying it with your fingers, clawing at it with your nails, there was only one difference, this wasn’t the one you wore at the raft, this was vibranium, indestructible. This was originally designed to shock you at any moment. Zemo couldn't expect you to wear this, lying to yourself again that he couldn’t make you, when you both knew he could. Would he really be so cruel as to shock you, to have the fear of having bolts of electricity move through your body at any given moment?

“I’m not wearing this.” You told Zemo, finding him walking to the kitchen with an increasingly happy Rebecca.

“Strange, it looks to me as if you are wearing it right now.”

Fuck you.

Fuck no there was no way, you needed Maria, you needed Shuri, you needed to get this torture device off your body immediately, well Zemo removed anything that could even be considered a weapon a while ago, you hadn't seen his sword for ages. You wondered how strong the doors were, if you would have time to smash the door enough times to get the job done, somehow Hydra had done you a favour, you knew what it felt like to lose a limb.

I’ll cut my arm off.

A hand clamped around your forearm like a vice, as Rebecca entered the kitchen you were pulled back and slammed into the hallway wall. Zemo pressed himself firmly against you. You swung your head and Rebecca was in her own little world. Zemo was so close you felt his nose graze your cheek as he whispered into the shell of your ear. “That thought is never to cross your pretty little mind again, do you understand?”

“You're hurting me.” Your lip quivered, heart drumming in your ears, muscles straining as your skin crawled.

“If I find so much as a scratch from any ill attempt to remove this, you will find yourself handcuffed to my person permanently, then you will discover what real pain is.” Zemo promised with a voice devoid of all emotion while you frantically shook your head. Zemo gently lifted your chin with his other hand, heat and fury radiating from him and you whimpered, barely able to hold yourself up, you relented and looked at him. His eyes bore into you unashamed, that darkness ,that fire was there but there was something else, his eyes burned you. Did he even care? After all the pain he had caused? Trembling in his arms you hoped he hadn't seen the scratches already around the watch.

“I’m sorry.” you gasped out. That seemed to disgust Zemo he released his hold and stepped into the kitchen, you slid down the wall, more like fell, placing your hands into the plush carpet in an attempt to ground yourself, to not cave to the impending panic attack, desperately trying to regulate your breathing a hand appeared over your own. Victor. You clung onto him as if he were the only hope you had. Rebecca called out to you and you retched, you had to endure this. You wanted this, you just didn’t think he would be so callous with Rebecca so close.

“You can survive anything Sweetheart.” Victor reminded you. Rubbing your hand over your face you stood, still weak at the knees, plastered a smile on your face and entered the kitchen, hearing Victor on your trail.

“I can count to ten!” Rebecca exclaimed, with one little finger she pointed in the air as she counted off, you forced your smile to get bigger for her.

“You know Rebecca, you have ten fingers, as do I. You should check to see if Sunshine does.” Zemo smirked at you. You fucking asshole. He brought Rebecca into this, made her part of your little spat. She would now remember you had ten fingers. You held them out and your head high as she counted them off. Just for a moment you imagined she was counting up the moment you exploded, that you grabbed the nearest object and repeatedly smash it into Zemo’s face.

“I wish you would.” Victor sang which caused a genuine smile to peep through, his commentary wasn’t exactly child friendly. “You could always say it was an accident.” A laugh almost escaped through your lips, which was only fuelled by the confusion on Zemo’s face.

Another pointless driving lesson, at least Victor was sitting in the back, huffing and tutting at the pretence that you couldn’t drive, or pilot or a jet, or that you were this clueless. Zemo reeled off his stupid instructions. You didn't even know why Zemo agreed to teach you to drive, it wasn't like you were going anywhere. With Rebecca on your lap, driving very slowly around the trees, you gently hit the brakes when a squirrel ran across your path. Rebecca planted her feet on your thighs and hands on the wheel, enamoured by the little furry thing. Watching it, brushing its face with its tiny little paws you were in awe of her sparkling eyes, how its fluffy little tail could bring such joy into her heart, he ran off and she moved her face closer to yours with a big grin, a moment shared between you both.

Zemo captured it on his phone, he played the video for you and you would cherish it forever, the intimacy of it, you both so happy, the sun shining on both of you, so serene, almost as if you were glowing, that joy was lost when you watched Zemo send that video to Maria with a triumphant expression. He had you dead to rights, you were both playing an elaborate game of chess. Sure, you could blow the whole board off the map, but you both knew you wouldn't. He had solid evidence that you were thriving, happy, safe, just as he did before.

“Kill him.” Victor commanded, feeding into your darker desires. And so you opened the car door, gently lifted Rebecca out, made sure she was steady on her feet and hit the gas, laughing maniacally into the air as you sought your revenge, hurtling towards a tree, angling the car to make sure Zemo would die on impact. If only. If only you had the courage, if only Victor were really here, if only you could open the car without Zemo, you couldn't cause Rebecca that much pain, you would live on, whatever that meant, as long as she was happy.

“Driving requires two hands Rebecca, isn’t that right Sunshine?” Zemo cooed.

“Yes, it does. You have two hands just like dad and me.” You agreed with Zemo feeling the burn of Victor’s gaze on you and the start of his chuckle as you continued allowing malice to slip into your voice. “Uncle Bucky has two hands, doesn’t he?” You smiled sardonically at Zemo knowing you left him stumped, what was he going to do? Deny it? Say Bucky was defective in some way and by extension you? That you weren't whole as a person? You hummed to yourself satisfied at the blood curdling laugh you elicited from Victor.

“He is insufferable.” Victor scorned.

Victor gave you ideas, plenty of ideas, kick Zemo down the stairs, push his head into the boiling soup he made for dinner, hold his head under Rebecca’s bath, all of which formed an incredible and vivid visual in your mind. The darkness was always there and now the person who taught you how to harness it was with you, encouraging you to act on it, painting a picture of every scenario. That was Victor's solution, to stay safe he argued you had to eliminate Zemo. You asked him how you would get supplies, money, how you were supposed to provide for Rebecca in a prison you couldn't leave, he had his magic, he had his intellect, you didn’t have those things. He would have this bracelet off in five seconds flat, break down whatever shield there was preventing your escape. A knock came on your door after Rebecca went to bed, no doubt Zemo and his shitty pills, opening the door you held out your hand, just get it over with to see Zemo’s sleeves rolled up and a matching thick black bracelet, but why would he wear one? This wasn’t the raft he didn’t need to. You believed the guards only wore them so the chain could form in between. THE CHAIN! Your mind screamed as Zemo’s bracelet touched yours and a black chain appeared in between them. You stared at it in horror, what the sordid implications of this little chain meant. Zemo would be by your side for every waking moment, every sleeping moment, he would be in your bed, how would you use the toilet? How would you shower? Dress? Bile rose up your throat and you had to force it back down, frozen on the spot, you had no idea what to do.

Before you could form any sort of response, Zemo pulled on his handcuff causing you to spin, lifting his arm over you, he grasped your waist ruthlessly and pulled you back into him. Victor help me, help please. Zemo kicked your legs out and as you screamed his hand covered your mouth. You knew what this meant, knew how your body would be violated, every hot breath of his that tickled your cheek, felt like an unwanted touch. Zemo fumbled in his pocket and you screamed louder, flailing against him, trying to get him away from you, you muscles contracted on memory. Zemo held his hand up in front of you with those wretched pills. Did he expect you to take them from his hand like a dog? You nodded your head, you would rather be under for this, when he tipped those pills into your mouth, you felt how much you hated him, with every fibre of your being. You hated him, hated Wanda for digging you out, hated Maria for bringing you back, she was not your guardian angel, she dragged you back to hell, you could have been free from this, free from the endless cycle of pain. Free from feeling your heart shatter over and over.

I made the wrong choice.

Once again you had been presented with a choice and instead of killing Zemo which he rightly deserved, you killed Victor. You choose Zemo again. Metal fingertips grazed yours, urging you to try, to see if your powers worked. Even though you knew how to get out of this Victor trained you specifically to, to fight Zemo. You couldn't, you wouldn't fight Zemo. Victor rested his forehead against yours and you wanted to feel relief from the strong arms wrapped around you, the hands clutching your waist, the hands that Victor swore to remove if they touched you again.

“This isn’t real.” Victor lied echoing the words you said to him in Hydra’s box, cupping your face with his hands and kind eyes.

You're not real.

Snivelling at your situation Victor lied again.“Precisely Sweetheart. I’m dead, I can’t be here, so you can’t either. It's not real, just close your eyes, it will all be over soon.”

Lying to yourself again, telling yourself that this would be the last time. This isn't real.

–

“Shhhhhh Sunshine, I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Zemo’s voice broke, soothing you again as your body jerked in his arms. Zemo sobbed into the crook of your neck, he had lost you again. He failed. Failing as he always had, he couldn't save you. You always believed in him. Your pain was indelible as was his. He did not have the heart, the compassion, the patience required, you needed someone like yourself. And there was no one quite like that, no one that could make the sun burst out of them, no one, just you. He wanted to cure your frail body, patch up your heart, slay every demon, heal every wound, wipe your tears, hold your hand as you screamed. How to take it all back? How to fix your broken heart? How to undo it all? He desecrated you and destroyed you. All of your suffering, it was all him. And you were still paying the price. He would dedicate his life to you, even if you continuously rejected him he would remain at your side forever.

He wondered who was more of a shell. Whose gaping wound that would never heal hurt the most, how much longer could he endure not being able to hold you? How much more he could repress? How much more torment he could take? How this felt like death by a thousand cuts. The conversations with himself, the back and forth and for what? What would it change now. You hated him. There wasn't a single space in his heart that didn't still love you. He wanted you to turn on him, make him suffer as you had.

He was not perturbed by the shuffling of feet in his house. New guests had arrived, perhaps they could coax a smile out of you, penetrate the towering walls you had built. Perhaps the old faces would make everything stop, if only Oeznik were here. He imagined if Oeznik were here, he wouldn’t be, he would have shot him dead the moment you were discovered. Oh how he wished he died in Sokovia, then you would be free. You had grown to detest yourself, believing you could only bring pain. You even rejected his smiles. Rebecca seemed to pain you also, he understood why, he wanted to covet her innocence, he just couldn't bring himself to force her to see the realities of the world.

“What the hell Zemo.” Bucky hissed, entering the room, lying to Sarah about checking in with General Ross, no doubt hearing two heartbeats behind this door.

“Don’t take her from me, please James.” Zemo begged, pulling you back. “She threatened to dismember herself. She does not sleep James, her mind is haunting her, automatically assuming the worst, she cannot, shhhhhhh-” He sputtered out, stroking his thumb across your knuckles, lulling you back to sleep again, bringing you closer to him, so James couldn’t snatch you away. “I regret the day she ever met us.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied softly, helplessly looking on. You would have been terrified, but Zemo was so broken, no one saw how desperate he had been all these years, how he barely slept, how every moment was hollow, the despair he had looking for you, no one had seen the regret that taunted him. There wasn't anything Zemo wouldn't do for you, how he would do anything to make you right again. How you still had all of Zemo, how your face haunted Zemo’s dreams.

“It feels as if she is dying.” Zemo admitted. Watching your own mind poison you, steal away your peace, steal away your soul. Watching you yearn for the man who sold you to Hydra. You were growing weaker and weaker by the day, refusing food, refusing sleep, refusing everything. But your thoughts, they were the darkest they had ever been and he just had to sit and watch you torture yourself. You wouldn't survive this. If Zemo could keep you asleep like this forever, safe in his arms, so at peace, he would.

“She shouldn’t have saved us.”

“That wasn’t intentional, she knew we would have prevented her, she needed us out of her way.” Zemo knew he would never have agreed to your sacrifice, he would have handed over the world and never given it a second thought. Bucky pulled the sheets from the bed and draped them over you, he sat for hours watching Zemo calm your unconscious form, somewhere in there, you knew Zemo would protect you. That wouldn’t matter now, Zemo handcuffed you to him, it was over, you would never trust either of them again. He remembered that, hiding in Bucharest, knowing he could only trust one man he couldn't quite remember, Steve. You didn't have anyone like that, not anymore. Then after Wakanda, you came along, trusted him implicitly, saw the good in everyone including him, he was only with Sarah now because a part of him, that he could have lived with, was somewhere in your mind. Not that he or Zemo were letting you go anywhere, they made a pact it would be different this time. As he watched Zemo’s tears fall onto your body, he wasn’t sure it could ever be, if he thought Zemo was over protective before, that was nothing compared to now. If this was Sarah, he would hold her and never let go. “Just a while longer James.”

–

Having no time to compose yourself hearing the rush at your door, burst open and before you could focus you were bundled by two very excited boys. AJ and Cass, the ones who felt your presence. You wanted to hug them forever.

That was short lived when Sarah rushed in pulling them off. “What did I say!” She scolded them. She held her hand out to you. You ignored her and pushed yourself back up, pulling on your sleeve to fully cover the watch still firmly wrapped around your wrist, which almost felt like Hydra's hand clamps, you stretched your fingers out, just to check that you could and Sarah’s face dropped. You forgot, forgot for a moment that now you were something to be feared, especially around her children. You would never get used to that. “I’m Sarah, I- erm, I-” She stumbled over her words, no doubt because this was an odd introduction, she knew you, you could see the disbelief on her face, that she was looking at someone she grieved for, someone who wasn’t supposed to be here, well you agreed more and more with that with each passing day.

“MEOOOOOWWWW!”

Alpine?

You looked down at your feet to a graceful white cat meowing from what you recall for the first time. She tilted her cute little head at you, you crouched down and she didn't turn on you, swishing her tail with an air of importance, she pounced into your arms, nuzzling into your chest with loud purrs. Well at least someone was pleased to see you. Running your fingers through her soft fur, you took solace in the fact that someone even if it were an animal who knew you from the past just accepted you the way you were.

“Bucky promised pancakes, let’s go.” AJ grabbed your hand and started to drag you out of the room. Bucky was here, just great, fucking perfect. Sarah started on AJ again telling him that he had just met you and he shouldn't be dragging you around, you assured her it was fine and walking behind them, you couldn't quite believe how big they had both gotten. AJ was as tall as Sam now and Cass wasn't far behind, you missed so much. You rolled your shoulders in an attempt to shake off the disgust you felt as you entered the dining room, put on that default smile that was more you showing your teeth. Rebecca was already happily chomping down and the boys soon followed. You snuggled into Alpine, taking the smallest sip of water, forgoing any food. You used to squirm under Zemos intense gaze but now, he could go fuck himself, Bucky too with his staring. Bucky hadn't even greeted you, he just watched your every move. Was he pissed you had Alpine? He took the fucking cat from you too. As soon as Rebecca shuffled down to leave the table, you stood, wanting to be as far away from adults as you could.

“Would it be agreeable to you to eat something more substantial?” Zemo whispered. Eat something more substantial? You didn’t have much of an appetite, the thought of putting a forkful of food that either of them prepared made you retch, you couldn't stop it, covering your hand with your mouth. Zemo looked stunned and you gulped, ready to mumble another apology.

“Don’t apologise. Are you unwell?”

You shook your head, Zemo gave you a look of sadness, he glanced at Bucky, who had his ear prominently in your direction and you wished you could silence your heart. Rebecca impatiently tugged on Zemo’s arm, you could see he wanted to say more, momentarily you allowed every emotion to show on your face. Fuck you, you fucking sadist. Zemo nodded as if to accept your words and everyone filed out of the room. That thing Rebecca was so impatient for, that she was scared she would miss, the rain. The fucking rain. You announced that you didn't like the rain and stayed in with Alpine, as if she would ever allow water to taint her delicate fur. Holding her, sleeping in your arms, as Bucky and Zemo watched you through the window. Declining the coffee Sarah offered you as she stood next to you, you were impressed you didn't blurt out that you weren’t allowed coffee, or baths, or your own thoughts, or to go outside, or to breathe air without Zemo’s say so. The rain caused Rebecca’s hair to stick to her face but that didn’t stop her ever so happy laughs, splashing in every forming puddle, she climbed up Bucky’s arm and he lifted her up into the air so she could be closer to the rainfall.

“Rebecca is the real magic Sweetheart, not me.” Victor said from your other side, with a dreamy tone.

She is naive.

Victor lingered with you all day, silently by your side like a bodyguard. When everyone returned from the outside, all the children wrapped in huge white towels, Zemo handed you the phone he gave you, which you didn't carry with you, as he was monitoring it. You looked at him with wary eyes, what could he have done to it? He scrolled through a few times to reveal your old playlist, he put your music onto it. Something that was yours, just yours, all of your music about pain, how could you have ever been so blind? What even was this? An apology of some kind? Still you quietly mumbled a thank you. Making an active effort to avoid both Zemo and Bucky you stayed quiet and trailed along after Rebecca all day, who was slightly jilted that the rain had stopped. Alpine wandered off when it came to dinner and as you knew, you would be told once again you couldn’t help you waited in the dining room. Watching AJ and Cass pander to whatever Rebecca wanted to do, they also showed you where some snacks were hidden and as they ate them, so did you. You slid AJ’s tablet over, careful not to search anything you opened the news. Scrolling past every awful thing going on in the world because that all could have stopped had you not killed Victor. Which he took great satisfaction in pointing out as he tutted and huffed at everything you read, making his snide little comments.

“Look at this,” You gratefully took another nut that he cracked with his metal hand. “This college kid has found a way to clear oceans and he has got funding, can you imagine all of the plastic gone? It doesn't disturb the habitat either, this is great,” You said animatedly, taking another nut. “Finally a way to clear all the damage humanity has done, this could start healing the world, you-” You lifted your head to look into Victor’s emerald eyes only to be met with blue ones. The air tore itself from your lungs, looking at the pile of nut shells underneath Bucky’s hand and a walnut in his palm. You got so distracted you thought it was Victor, damn that metal hand and by the look on Bucky’s face he figured it out, you thought he was Victor. Pushing the chair out to run, to get away, your foot caught the leg on the chair and you crashed straight down onto the hardwood floor. A hand came into your vision, coupled with the black from the fall, you turned away only to smack your face straight back into the chair. Stop it, stop it, STOP!. You felt the ghost of a touch linger on your back and shrieked, turning again, your hand slipping on the blood dripping from your nose, blindly crawling straight into the edge of the table.

The table flew into the air followed by a sickening crunch, porcelain shattering, shards of glass slicing, setting your nerves alight. Hands gripped your upper arms to stop you moving. Splinters of wood littered down as the arms shook you to stop your head jerking in every direction trying to assess where the threat was.

“You're hurting yourself, look at me!”

Sam? Sam moved his hands to gently place them at the side of your head, instinctively your hands grabbed his wrists. He was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, nodding, wanting you mimic him. You didn't even notice him arrive, you gripped him warm wrists, shaking, seeing little flakes of sawdust rest on the hairs of his arms. You ruined dinner, now you had a moment you could smell the tomato sauce that was now painting the ceiling. Catching Zemo out of the corner of your eye, who was looking at you with concern as Rebecca marvelled at Bucky’s strength. Bucky had both boys at either side, no doubt making sure the remnants of the large table didn’t injure them. Sarah looked terrified, hands over her mouth, trembling as much as you were. Zemo handed Rebecca to her and she told the boys to follow. You shouldn't have come back, you couldn’t do this, everyday was proving that. What if you used your powers?

“What did I do?” You whispered to yourself.

“Nothing.” Zemo left no room for argument, careful to stay back. “James startled you, it’s not your fault.”

Yes it is.

–

Sam helped you clean up, somehow you did not break your nose. You had bit your tongue and Victor said you would have black eyes by the morning. You stayed in your room, waiting for Zemo to come along with his shitty pills but he didn't. Sam knocked on your door, you pretended to be asleep. Your head felt tight, crushed by the never ending thoughts and the persistent screaming. You had several texts from Maria having missed her nightly text yesterday, you promised you were fine. You desperately wanted to see her, Zemo let Sam in so Maria should be no different. After the bruises went down, she couldn’t see you like this, she wouldn't believe that it was your fault either. No more distractions, just keep your back to a wall, smile and nothing else. You were offered an ice pack by Bucky who clearly waited outside your room until you decided to leave, he insisted, so much so, you quickly realised, you would be offered it continually, by everyone until you gave in. Sam tried to make conversation with you, so did Sarah, she told you all about the boys, how they were getting on with school, how she was still running her community projects and the fishing business.

“Are you ok here?” She said so quietly you barely heard her.

“Zemo is very kind to me.” You answered with a bright smile and Victor clapped you on the back in a gesture of a job well done.

<”I believe her, Doc taught her to lie.”> Bucky muttered in Russian to Zemo. <”She still has her powers, I can feel it and I know she remembers”> Bucky said with a remorseful tone.

<”We deserve it dont we? I await the day she seeks revenge on us. As far as I can tell she does not remember anything.”>

“Sweetheart, see even they believe they should die. Just a quick clench of those fingers and that’s it, please Sweetheart.” Victor implored.

Don’t encourage me.

After dinner in which you claimed you weren't hungry again. Everyone sat out on the patio, which you learned Sam built. He spent a lot of time here while you were gone, Oeznik was mentioned and you had to blink a few times, if he were alive, you could do this. Sam had more time with his nephews taken from him and this time it was because of you. Sam suggested a picture which surprised you, surely no pictures of you were allowed ever again, you went to enough trouble to erase them all.

“No Becca, you should go and sit with your m-” Sarah cut herself off, her beautiful children, gave her a look they mastered from the woman herself telling her to shut the fuck up. Bucky ran his hands down her back and you saw her lip wobble, her jaw clenched and you wanted to tell her that it was ok, you choose this, that this was a better option to keep Rebecca safe, to keep everyone safe, she turned on her heel and marched back into the house, Bucky and Sam on her tail. Seeing Zemo in your peripheral vision you positioned yourself so Rebecca was in between you, how fucked up that you had to use her as a shield. You claimed to need the bathroom, Zemo pulled some headphones from his pocket and your phone with instructions to not remove them under any circumstance.

Slowly and silently removing your shoes, you tiptoed down the hallway, Sarah was having a harder time with this lie than anyone else. Perhaps because she had a perspective no one else did, she was a mother too and you could garner from her point of view you were being robbed of motherhood. You were already robbed, stripped of everything, surely someone had explained that it was in Rebecca's best interest to not be related to you.

“She isn’t even a person anymore. Tell her that little girl is hers.” Sarah blubbered from inside the study.

“Doll, we have been over this.”

“Bucky-”

“ENOUGH! You think it will help her to remember everything Hydra did? Everything Victor did, remember what she did?” Bucky paused as if he were considering something. “Remember what we did? You call her and Zemo a beautiful runaway love? The night he took her, he brought her here, tied her up, cut into her, shot her, that's what all those scars on her arms are. Don’t look at Sam like that he knew, we all knew. You wanna go out and tell Rebecca that her precious Uncle Bucky strangled her ma to death? Fucking do it, you think we don’t all feel like shit, WE DID THIS!”

Sarah wailed so loud you were sure her heart was physically breaking, your past hurt her, she cried for it more than you had. You put your hand on the door and knew Bucky’s head would have turned to the door, slipping off the headphones with an air of confusion, you calmly walked over to Sarah who was doing a terrible job of stopping crying and wiping away her tears, you wrapped your arms around her and asked her what happened.

–

The next day the bruises had started to set in which made you look horrendous. Sarah announced they were leaving, which you knew was your fault, they were meant to stay for a lot longer, she couldn't handle it, you could barely handle it. There was so much more noise in the house, which you couldn't seem to cope with, so much so you jumped at your own shadow straight into Zemo’s waiting arms. You hated him, you knew you hated him and yet you were intrinsically drawn to him, that was the second time you sought solace in him when you thought you were in danger. You pulled away quickly rushing to the kitchen where the kids ate on the chairs and the adults stood around. Zemo couldn't take his eyes off you, full of devotion, full of dismay. Which you couldn't quite understand, your entire relationship was a lie, what was there to be devoted to? The temptation to flaunt your empty, ring less hand in his face was only spurred on by Victor, you could imagine the distaste across his face. It’s not like you unloved Zemo randomly, it came in bits and pieces, until you had built a heart he couldn't touch, if you believed you had one left.

Did he ever love me? You asked Victor half wanting him to answer the same question, Did Victor love you for you? Or because you were the image of Valeria? Did Zemo ever love you? Could he even love? He loved Rebecca so much so you could feel it, see it in every action. Was I ever happy? You asked Victor again wanting him to answer, you didn't get one, not from either of them, how you wished you could believe that your happiness wasn't all a fallacy, did you lie to yourself for every moment? That dance? The nights in the raft? The baths? The nights Zemo stayed awake with you when you couldn’t sleep? Every touch? every kiss? Was it all a lie?

It’s limerence, not love.

Victor had an answer this time. “Remind me how you got your powers again?”

–

You were sitting outside with Zemo and Rebecca, who was insisting on the daisy chain Zemo was making for her be bigger as she intended to wear it as a crown for her newly found princess status which Victor enjoyed a little too much, reminding you that had his plan come to fruition she would have ruled the world with him and he would have forged her a real crown. In between blowing on dandelions to, in her words, 'set the fairies free.’ You wondered if you could be a fairy. She haphazardly made you a bracelet and asked Zemo if you could be royalty too and you wondered if the ground could just swallow you up. The daisy chain was falling apart in your hands much like this life. Zemo held his hand out and you clutched it to your chest, yes it was stupid and the flowers would die by morning but it was yours, and you didn't have much in this world, why the fuck would he take it from you.

“You wish to preserve this, yes?” He asked gently as you nodded and he sauntered off returning with a thick and heavy dictionary, he had lined it with paper and explained the process of pressing flowers, A way to keep Rebecca’s gift forever.

“Thank you.” You told him later on as you crept into Rebecca's room as she listened intently to Zemo, you selected one of her books and wished her a goodnight. Every book you tried to smuggle away from the study disappeared, for whatever reason Zemo didn’t want you reading them, probably thought they could trigger some awful memory, in your defence you did not finish Dracula. Right on cue the knock came on the door and you held your arm out with that bracelet weighing it down and Rebecca’s book was ripped straight from your hand. How were you supposed to continue with this turbulence? Anticipate his ill temper? What could happen in a child’s book that he didn't want you to read? Backing away with your hands in the air, you wondered what you could have possibly done to antagonise him? You hadn't given Zemo any reason to be, well Zemo.

“The princess is kidnapped in this particular story.” Zemo grumbled, yet he remained where he was, outside of your room.

“It’s a kids book, she’ll get rescued right?”

“Actually the princess Belle, falls in love with her captor.” Zemo said through gritted teeth. Victor burst into laughter and you glared at him. There were children’s books promoting this shit? You picked that one of all the ones she had? Fuck Hydra for stealing your childhood, fuck Victor for laughing, fuck Zemo, Fuck all of it. Zemo’s eyes moved in Victor’s direction and you shifted your body just in case. You waited for Zemo to ask if someone was here with you, for him to threaten to kill him, to carve Victor up and serve him to you for breakfast.

“Would you like to read it?”

“Fuck No.” You blurted out, “I mean no thank you.” You quaked, Zemo opened his mouth to reply then shook his head, more at himself, he didn’t even wish you good night, he just drifted off. As soon as he did you pointed a finger in Victor’s face warning him to keep his mouth shut, you didn’t want to know anymore about beauty and the beast.

–

Over breakfast the next morning, Rebecca tugged on your hands and motioned for you to lower yourself down to her level. She kissed her hand and prodded your purple ringed eyes, she was so sweet and kind. A treasure just like Oeznik said. “Magic kisses take all the pain away.” You watched her parrot that lie, back to you as if she truly believed it with all her heart, a lie you taught her and you felt something within you slowly but surely switch off.

Everyone took little pieces and the worst part was that you let them, you sold your soul a long time ago. To endure this, to survive it, you needed to adapt, which became surprisingly easy, especially as you just stopped feeling anything. You didn't feel disgust when Zemo came knocking with those pills, stopped feeling pangs of hunger, even the fear subsided, you became numb to it, apathetic, as if you couldn’t feel anyone there, you didn't care what Zemo did and soon after you stopped finding joy in Rebecca. You tried so hard to bask in her light. How could you enjoy her happiness when her life was a lie? She was in this hell, this prison too. She was blind to it all, you couldn't exactly tell her to open her eyes. Even the glow you once believed Zemo had was diminishing, if he ever had one, it was probably just another figment of your stupidity.

Even your natural fear response to Zemo faded, whenever he would reach out and then quickly retract his hand, you felt nothing. Nothing could hurt you, but that meant nothing could make you happy either, there wasn’t any comfort here, there was just your silence, only speaking if you were directly spoken to, placidly walking head down, through the house that you once believed was paradise, you had both burned that to ruins. You didn’t even find it demoralising when Zemo served everything to you on plastic plates in bite size pieces, no humiliation, just an aching darkness. You didn’t fit in here, but did you really fit in anywhere? Weeks passed with your despondent staring, no more smiles formed on your face, they felt foreign. Waiting for something to bring you back to life. Waiting and the only thing really you expected, was the day Hydra inevitably found you.

You used to be so good at cognitive dissonance, compartmentalising it all into neat boxes, usually marked, ‘it was an accident’ now it had all turned into a swirling pit. A hyperbole, a vacuum of lies, a vortex of pain, a self perpetuating cycle of abuse. This wasn’t living, this was existing, amongst the people you saved, the ones you swore to protect, how could you feel so profoundly alone? By putting everyone else first you had taught yourself that you come second, it was ingrained and you didn’t exactly want to die, but carrying on this way? This was worse than you could have ever imagined.

Zemo was just as bad as you if not worse, sure Rebecca could coax a smile from him, even the intonation of his voice became more empty, but his eyes always travelled to you, the burden, the inconvenience. He always seemed to be searching for something within you? Was it for you to admit you remember? The day you finally snapped? For the black soul that lived within you to take over? The latter was the only real possibility. And then there were the moments you caught his disgust. Which should bother you, but it didn't, you were as disgusted with yourself as he was. A goddess amongst ants, so powerful you were put on a pedestal, causing cities to fall, completely absolved of the responsibility and now you lived in his house, you were everything he hated, you hated yourself more than he ever could. He gave you a wide berth, you had seen his tactics before, but you appreciated that. He became colder and colder, as broken as you were and you loathed yourself for thinking you could have made this work, that it would be easier if you just held his hand. But nothing ever hurt like him. You were bonded by trauma, unhealthily attached to each other. Toxic in the highest form. Sadness etched on his face and a hard exterior that couldn't be penetrated, not that you wanted to, but Zemo was once your everything. There was no going back for him, for either of you, too much had happened, too much loss. Victor reminded you that you were the one who needed saving, Your pain was interminable because of Zemo and he was insipid, intractable.

You knew that.

But the atmosphere of the house was soul wrenching, a black cloud did not crush you, you were the black cloud, dead, empty inside and as infectious as Zemo once called you, you stole the light from everyone. Trapped in a dalliance they couldn't ward off, one you couldn't either. And as meek and as compliant as you were, it only made Zemo hang his head. You wondered who was more of a shadow of who they used to be? Whose gaping wound that would never heal hurt the most? How much longer could you keep this up? How much more could you bottle up? How much longer could you drown, gasping for air? How after another week Zemo could no longer bear to look at you and you could barely open your eyes, through the tormented sleep and hours staring at the fireplace that no longer worked as Victor begged you to kill them all.

There wasn’t any consistency to it all, only the pain. How it hurt, just to breathe. How Zemo had an answer for everything but he couldn't fix this, that you didn’t want him to, that you knew you did this, you deserve a life of misery, that you went back to the one thing you needed to walk away from and in turn were now forcing Zemo to live in this hell too. How every second felt like you were standing on the edge, to keep going or give up, how tired you were of it all, you were even hallucinating your dead mentor, soulmate, whatever he was, imagining he was here, when you knew he couldn't be. Was this survivor’s guilt? The conversations with yourself, the ups and downs and for what? What would it change now? That no matter how much you tried, you would always be the problem.

“Don’t give in, fight back Sweetheart, for me.”

Instead of answering you rolled over in bed and closed your eyes. Keep fighting? What for? There wasn’t anything to fight for anymore.

–

Arriving at the New York division of the Wakandan outreach programme you knew you were supposed to feel something, but it just reminded you that Zemo did this either out of obligation to Wakanda or to you. Guilt, the guilt that Wanda told you would eat them alive and despite your efforts something was eating him alive. Eating all of them alive, you could see it on their faces the moment they saw you. You were losing weight rapidly, face gaunt, eyes sullen, lips chapped, skin discoloured, the only reason your hair was brushed was because of Rebecca, Zemo point blank refused to do your hair, so you tried to match it just by eyeballing what he had done. Bucky looked as if he were ready to force feed and then start world war three. Go ahead.

Unsurprisingly you were placed in a courtyard, with very high brick walls. Bored out of your mind, kicking stones around, shut out again and unable to do anything. You opened the outdoor cabinet to find logs. But then this was New York City, plenty of old buildings, so fireplaces were common. Buildings and houses not as old as Castle Doom but old enough. How long were you expected to be out here? Maybe you could carve something with your nails? Something? Anything? You started to remove all of the logs, even just to count them to pass the time finding an axe at the bottom. Well it was something to do. Your sunglasses could serve as safety goggles, not that you cared. Despite knowing your muscles were weaker, that you were weaker, you brought the axe down.

Over and over.

You managed to split one log into eight before you felt a searing gaze on your neck. Dropping the axe out of your hand, you wondered if you could gaslight Zemo as he had to you. Just say there isn't an axe, you can’t see an axe. Just apologise immediately and he would drop it. Really you weren't trying to piss him off, you imagined the person who left this out here was in for worse than you were.

“Explain yourself.” Zemo demanded.

And you could kind of understand why he was angry, but in your defence you hadn't chopped off your arm and you had enough time, shouldn't you get points for that? Yet Zemo looked incensed as frustrated as he had that morning and that was the moment you realised, you weren't even sure he cared about the axe, he more pissed about what happened earlier.

–

That Morning.

–

Sitting at the kitchen counter as the dining room currently had no table and orange stains on the walls, you patiently waited for Rebecca to finish her egg on toast. Zemo got a phone call and excused himself, you didn't need to look up to know there would be a warning in his eyes, not to touch the cutlery to wait until he returned and he would cut up your breakfast only for you to not eat it. Diminished to such treatment, but it was expected. Picking at your nails, wondering if today would bring anything different to yesterday, you felt a small hand on your thigh, scooching back, Rebecca climbed onto your lap. With her own cutlery she started to cut your toast into neat rows. Three years old and she had some of that etiquette Zemo taught you. She encouraged you to try, pulling your hands to the plate, gently praising you for being able to complete such a simple task. Leaving the toast half finished she climbed back to her own chair, took her cutlery back and hummed happily to herself.

“Why did you help me?” You asked cautiously.

“Helping is the best,” She put one hand on her chest. “Makes my heart all fuzzy and warm.”

Glowing.

You loved her, truly you did, but to watch this, to have to witness the joyful creature she was. It was breaking you down. What had they done? How could they let this happen? Finally, finally, you could say this wasn’t your fault, she was just like you and you weren't even here.

“I’m so sorry Sweetheart.”

Your own plate lifted in front of you, Zemo had come back into the room, you didn’t acknowledge him, you couldn’t stop staring at Rebecca. Even when Zemo asked her to fetch her shoes, your eyes followed her every movement, even when you couldn’t see her, you just stared at the door.

“Sunshine, are you planning to continue starving yourself?”

What? Zemo picked off a small piece of egg with a fork, your stomach flipped so violently, you only just made it to the kitchen sink, retching into it only bringing up bile. Shuddering at yet another mistake, another reason to entice Zemo into violence. “I’m so sorry, I’ll eat it, I promise.”

–

Breakfast, the explanation he wanted, your fingers trailed your lips, tasting the ghost of bile on your tongue, Zemo didn’t make you eat any of it. “I didn’t take Rebecca's cutlery, she thinks I don’t know how to use a knife, I’ll tell her not to help-” You cut yourself off, you were going to cry and you couldn’t let that happen. Trying to convey yet another apology, you returned to the courtyard. Making sure you were as far from the axe as possible, you sat down, putting your head in your hands, you didn’t know how you could carry on. Feeling the air shift as someone plopped down next to you.

“It was hard for me too at first,” Bucky started and you rolled your eyes. Warden number two here to tighten the noose. Yes it must have been extremely difficult, difference was, he got Wakanda, he got endless kindness and more importantly freedom, Shuri let him leave, T’Challa, didn’t monitor his every fucking breath, “It gets better, you just need time,” You didn't need time, you needed something else, you had no idea what that was, and as Bucky kept talking you realised what they were waiting for, they were still waiting for you to come home, No matter how docile you were, compliant, silent, you would never live up that image, you weren't the same person anymore and your presence only exasperated that. Letting him trail off you got to your feet, walking away from Bucky, walking away from this, you found Zemo in the exact same spot he was before, disgust on his face until the mask of an approachable openness slid on as he saw you.

“Can I call Maria?” You huffed out, you didn’t carry that shit phone Zemo gave you anywhere and the one Maria gave you was safely tucked inside your mattress, pretending not to see that refusal flash in his eyes. “Zemo, I have to leave.”

“You, you don’t know what you are saying, you have no idea what’s out there.” Bucky said nervously, planting his hand on your shoulder and you wanted to fucking scream, purposely looking at his hand, you wanted to ask why they both felt comfortable touching you, why they assumed they had an open invitation, tell them both that they should be the ones locked up, that they shouldn't be out in the public, that it horrified you that they were, you were deeply disturbed by them both, that if he didn’t get his fucking hands off you, you were going to make him. That at this point, you didn't care what or who was out there, you would take your chances, because it had to be better than this. Bucky, uncomfortable at your focus on his hand, slipped it off, exhaling you knew you had to get through to Zemo, to convince him and the only real way you could see to do that was through Rebecca. You held your hands out, Zemo’s eyes bounced in between your hands and your eyes, he made a valiant effort not to touch you these days, you nodded, giving him permission, you squeezed his soft scarred hands once they made contact.

“Zemo, Rebecca can see what you are doing. She will look back and remember that you became miserable was the day I appeared. You are withering away, we both are, I can’t do this. You have to let me go.” You looked into his eyes and reflected back at you his own admittance, that he knew you were right. You smiled as much as you could at him, nodding hoping he would puppeteer you, that you would both be on the same page, he relinquished one hand to put in his pocket, to get his phone and you heaved a sigh of relief. That was short lived, when you heard Bucky move closer to you, the hairs on your neck stood on end, you snatched your other hand away from Zemo. Knowing that if Victor were here, he would tell you to scream that you remember, that you remember every last thing, planting your feet ready to push off, to break the door just behind Zemo down, hopefully before he jabbed you with one of those needles.

<”She is going to bolt.”> Bucky whispered.

“SARAH!” You shouted at the suspicious eyes of Zemo and Bucky. They could sedate you in front of Sarah, but she wouldn’t let it go, she was already asking questions, already connecting the dots. She came pounding down the stairs, talking over Zemo and Bucky who no doubt were feeding her a line, you spoke slowly and clearly. “If you have the keys, open the door.” You didn’t even look in her direction, you concentrated on Bucky and Zemo’s feet, you didn’t need to plead with your eyes, she would do it or she wouldn’t.

“Doll, Sarah, DOLL you need to think about this.” Bucky urged. She took a single step towards the door and as Bucky matched her step she screamed for Sam. You wanted to feel guilty at getting everyone involved in this but this was as close as you would ever get to freedom. Still watching Bucky's feet as he was the fastest, tension filtered into the air. All of the children were upstairs alone, yes there were many good people from Wakanda, but was Zemo really ok with that? Lifting your eyes to the ceiling, a thump came from above you all and you dodged out of the way as Zemo and Bucky tore up the stairs. Sarah raced the door, fumbling with the keys in her hand. You wished you had time to tell her how thankful you were. The door opened and as you stepped through it a firm grip stretched around your upper arm. Sarah wasn’t having any of it pushing Sam as hard as she could, she stood in between you, tall and defiant. Sarah knew, she knew there was more going on than she was being told. Standing in between you, Captain America, The Winter Soldier and Baron Zemo.

A fierce bold courageous woman.

“I got this.” Even though she sounded scared, she was sure and ready to fight. You listened to your body, the years it had told you that running was the best option and you didn't listen, fuck you were listening now. You pretty much just used Rebecca as bait and you would be killed for that alone. Taking off down the street you didn’t look back, asking the first person where the closest police station was you kept going, you were going to turn yourself in. Ensure the world was safe from you and you would be safe from Hydra, ask the officers to call Maria. Reaching a small station quickly you were asked to wait until someone was available. You let your head rest back and closed your eyes feeling weary, exhausted.

“Officer, that is the protege of Zebediah Killgrave, remember him?” Sam had burst through the door commanding the room with all the authority of Captain America. Zebadiah? You remembered coming across that name, Mr Purple, a man who terrorised the city, had the ability to manipulate, control and brainwash anyone just with his words. Now that was clever, almost too clever, the perfect way to shut you up, to stop you speaking, because not a person would believe you now or let you talk and as every gun simultaneously lifted aimed in your direction, fuck you wished someone would. “I got this.” Sam growled and grabbed at your upper arm again and you stared daggers at him as he manhandled you back out onto the street.

“Get off me, you asshole.”

“You are the biggest pain in my ass you know, just running off, where are you gonna go?”

Far fucking away. Wrestling against his pull he dragged you into what looked like a very upscale bar, a place you were not dressed for, which was evident by you both being stopped, but Sam bypassed that with a few choice words whispered into the concierge’s ear. Being Captain America really did have its perks. And Sam looked pissed, crazy pissed. Pissed that he would have had to explain how you just wandered off to Bucky and Zemo though you suspected he was more pissed at having to go up against Sarah, truly a force to be reckoned with. The only words you intended to express was a need to speak with Maria. Being poured whisky on a crisp white table cloth, just served as yet another reminder who they wanted back, and how much things had changed.

“Look, I know Zemo is an ass. He can be reasonable, he can, just talk to him.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, despite the fact you had heard Sam say this to you before, but that was in regards to Bucky. Zemo could be all of those things, but not with you. He had no control whatsoever. “Would Steve agree with you?” You jabbed, As Sam’s face dropped you lifted your glass to a toast. “To Captain America, a hero,“ You continued bitterly, “To the man you turn to when all hope is lost, a beacon of light, the hero who is supposed to fight for my freedom.”

Sam didn’t meet your glass he couldn’t, he couldn't be your hope, he couldn't grant your freedom. Lips set into a grim line, he at least looked ashamed. It was a low blow to compare him to Steve, to someone he spent years trying to live up to, lowering the glass, you traced a finger of the rim, still not taking a sip. Sam had not even touched his own whisky. You thought he was more of a beer kind guy, anyway. In fact not even his fingers touched it, made no attempt to even pretend. It was as if you had tunnel vision, zooming into the glass, breathing becoming ragged when it dawned on you. Sam hadn’t touched the whisky, because it wasn’t his drink.

Slamming your hands on the table to high tail it out of here before Zemo arrived you were met with his large hands covering your own, crushing his weight down onto your fingers. You tried to pull away, yank yourself away with the remaining strength you had left. Zemo wasn’t angry, he wasn’t upset, he wasn’t even disappointed, if anything he looked defeated.

“SAM! Sam, I can’t go back, I-” Your mouth fell open at Sam, sitting calmly, a blank look on his face, none of that scared you, no, his molten golden eyes did. “Sam?” You tried, quickly checking Zemo’s eyes weren’t the same, Zemo didn’t look remotely alarmed, if anything he looked flustered, flushed as if he ran here. swinging back to Sam only to see more molten golden dots, servers paused pouring wine, some halted with trays in their arms, patrons mid drink all statuesque. Had time stopped? That question was answered quickly when every single person made their way towards the entrance, including Sam. There was that cement feeling again, pouring over you, unable to move, unable to speak, frozen stiff. Your senses only came back to you when the crowd leaving revealed a tall pale man with a slight smirk on his face, his own molten eyes, with one hand in the hair. Druig. You read about him too, he could control minds. The thought alone of having your mind tampered with like that, being controlled in such a way, would you even be aware of what you were doing? You had to bargain for the best possible outcome. You weren’t even perturbed by thick metal shutters coming down the windows and doors, locking you inside with Zemo.

“Zemo, I’ll do anything you want, anything please, please, don’t do that to me.” You begged.

“Anything?” Zemo questioned, the undertone of what that could mean, a vulgar and vile implication. “You shouldn't make agreements without knowing exactly what is required of you.” Zemo gently lifted his hands as your head started darting around, looking for a way out, looking for Victor, for fucking anything. Zemo didn’t need the house, he never needed the house, he only ever needed himself, that was enough,, to keep you contained. Looking for your last fucking brain cell because you still hadn’t quite got the hang of that. You agreed to leave the raft with Zemo without question. Agreed to go with Victor without hesitation and still here you were agreeing to stupid stupid shit. “Do you really believe anyone can save you now?” Zemo rasped. You didn’t there was no one, what was Zemo about to tell you, you would be serving a lifetime term in the basement? You would never see the light of day again? “The only person capable of such a feat is yourself.”

Not even hearing that last sentence, beginning to hyperventilate. “I’m very very sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” Zemo reached over the bar selecting a bottle of wine. “You have nothing to apologise for. You are not responsible for this.” He held up the bottle for your approval and you stood there slack jawed, what in the fresh fuck did he mean? What did he want? What was this? He poured the deep scarlet liquid into a wine glass, a glass not plastic, keeping himself at arms length he offered it to you with nothing left but his humility. “Sunshine, the war is over, I know when I am beaten. You cannot fight and neither can I, you and Rebecca will be relocating to Wakanda, I'm afraid it may take a few days-”

You held your hand up stopping him, there was no way you heard him right. “You're abandoning her? Handing her off? To a stranger?” Voice embellished so he understood, that is exactly what your parents did to you. As Zemo opened his mouth to defend himself, you continued. “Where will you be?”

“I will be turning myself in for my crimes against you, Maria will make the appropriate arrangements.”

He might just be the worst person you had ever met, leaving Rebecca with you, a stranger, handing her over so easily. A malevolent smile spread across your face, reaching out for the wine you sat down. You let the wine slide down your throat in triumph, you had him, he could say whatever he wanted, only now the bruises around your eyes had faded. There wasn’t a mark on your body, he didn't have anything to corroborate his story and most importantly, Maria would believe you. “Call Maria, I'll even speak to her for you.”

Zemo’s lips pursed. “I watch your animated corpse wander my halls, you die everyday. I am detrimental to you. You have become hyper vigilant, not prioritising your basic needs, reactive, distorted negative beliefs about yourself. You are in survival mode and I must concede. It would be negligent of me to allow this to continue. I have to force you, force you to choose yourself.” All you could hear was his devastation, for the situation you were in, for where you both were now. “I talk myself in circles searching for compromises for your freedom. I can only apologise for my behaviour, I will never forgive myself, my transgressions are extensive, endless. I have made many mistakes in my life, they all pale in comparison to you.” Zemo stumbled over his words. Zemo of all people. ”You remind me of what I am. A depraved and cruel man, in Wakanda, you can-”

“Rebecca loves you, you can't leave her.”

“Rebecca is safe, loved, happy. Your needs surpass hers.”

“I don’t care.”

“I am aware of that. That's the crux of it, Sunshine, you do not care enough about yourself to see.” Zemo said exasperated, beaten down, the mask he always had slipped he looked just as fragile as you were. “You’re screaming, watching you torment yourself, it breaks me, my very soul, I couldn’t have envisioned a life so…. I want so much for you Sunshine, so much more than this.”

As the silence stretched between you, you saw that Zemo left his coat behind, his sword, stripped bare of his armour, of his weapons. His pallor looked that of a sickly man, pasty, as if he had just vomited himself, or came down from a panic attack, he looked vulnerable, scared even. Resigned and hopeless, as if his emotions would spill over at any moment.

“You don't trust everyone in Wakanda enough to GIVE AWAY your daughter.”

“I trust several individuals with Rebecca, she is not as reckless as I find you to be. She does not have a natural trepidation for danger. You truly have an incredible resolve, a passionate stubborness that cannot be tamed. So tell me Sunshine, what do you suggest?” Was Zemo giving you carte blanche? Letting you decide what happens from now on? You didn't know how to answer, you had never dreamed of your future, somehow you knew you wouldn't be the person choosing it. “I suspect you haven't ever had the opportunity to dictate your own life? What do you want?”

“I want to be free” But I know I can't be.

“ I understand your desire to have that Sunshine, I do. There are external forces at play. As a result of my actions, of my history there is a high possibility that you will be targeted.” Zemo sounded so wounded, a deep sense of morose in his tone. “Allow me to be candid, I am mentally unstable, I have let's refer to it as control issues. I have become fixated on you, unhealthy so. It is as if every emotion I have is directed at you, my feelings are incomprehensible. I feel as though I cannot live without you, I know that is incredibly unfair However I must ensure you are protected.”

“I’ll go to Wakanda, just me.” You relented.

“Sunshine-”

“NO.”

“Would you be open to a negotiation?” Zemo forever in a position of power wasn't used to being defied, let alone forced to compromise, it just wasn't something that happened you could hear that now in his words as they rattled in your mind. Negotiate with a terrorist, now that you would be willing to try your hand at, negotiate with Zemo? You can’t be negotiated with.

“I swear I am open to this discussion, we can establish new rules.” Zemo tried. No. “I promise that I can and will strive to be less intolerable.” he urged. No. “I vow to, I assure you I take my vows very seriously.” He said sincerely. I bet you do, the answer is still no. Zemo looked pained, took the last sip of his whisky and shook his head sadly, a desperate smile ghosted his lips. Even he knew that him being reasonable was implausible.

“I give you my word.”

That got your attention, something shifted between you. Victor gave his word and his word was binding, absolute. Zemo was attempting to give you a sense of security, even if it meant invoking Victor. “Start over, not afresh as such but with experience.” Just as you originally intended, you could fight with Zemo everyday or just coexist. You didn't agree on anything, but that wasn't a new sensation. Start over? It was only fair to see if Zemo could in fact be agreeable.

“Take this off.” You let your wrist fall to the table with a loud clatter, you wanted that torture device off, immediately. And yet Zemo did not seem to receptive of your demand, the first hurdle and he failed.

“That device allows me to see your pulse, I take great comfort in knowing that your heart beats.”

“Can’t I wear a fitness watch?”

“That is an excellent idea.” Zemo smiled. “Anything else?”

“I don’t want to take the pills, I want any and all cameras gone, I want the age restriction taken off netflix.”

“There are no cameras inside our home whatsoever. I think the rest goes without saying.”

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore.” You admitted.

“The last few years have hardened me, changed me, so much one hardly recognises oneself. A hardship I believe you understand all too well. Fear is your companion now, that is my fault. I am unable to take that from you Sunshine, I desperately wish I could. Know that I will never give you a reason to fear me, not ever again.”

“You actually believe you can do this?”

“James can hear a slight strain on your heart.” Zemo's eyes became glassy. “ It is not a matter of choice, I know that if I do not, you will die.”

You shook your head at yourself, because you believed him, after everything you believed him, trusted in every word he said. You looked at him, you just looked at him and wondered if it was even possible? Wanting to drown in his optimistic eyes and drown you would, one way or another. Zemo pushed the edge of your half empty, half full crystal glass towards you. Wine? Well something had to give you the courage, to agree to try again, to find your way back to some semblance of life, to have even a single shred of hope.

“I must be out of my fucking mind.”

–

Zemo pulled the fire alarm to open the door, an escape, a safety precaution, so simple yet concealed. He informed you that the bar was one of his many establishments, Zemo also invested in commercial property. You and Victor never looked for that, only for any new residential property. Finding a crowd of mindless zombies walking in central park, you kept your distance from Druig. According to Zemo he turned on his own kind for humanity, he valued that above everything else, Zemo also told you Druig would never ever be permitted to control your mind.

“I told you Zemo would come around if you talked to him.” Sam worriedly looked at you both, not quite believing his own words.

"And he is still an asshole.” You said firmly and very loudly, hearing Druig chuckle as he walked off.

“I am.” Zemo agreed wholeheartedly. And off you both went to find a fitness watch, you selected the cheapest one, blue in colour to not show any detection or preference for any colour from your past. Zemo purchased the most expensive black one, which he set up as you sat on a bench on Wall Street. Taking tiny nibbles of a burrito Zemo brought you, annoyed you just got another lump of sauce on the large sunglasses, you decided of your own volition to ask one of the many questions in your mind.

“I have to wear the cap and glasses, Sam does, Bucky does. Why don’t you?”

Zemo eyebrows pinched, he shuffled himself along the bench, creating a bigger space between you, surveying the hustle of New York, he cleared his throat and adopted as much of a carefree tone as he could. “I want my enemies to find me.”

No more burrito, you appreciated that he was honest, but you knew what happened when Zemo met his enemies. There were a million more questions you wanted to ask, but did you really want the answers? Did you want to watch him lie to you? You offered him the remainder of your burrito and to your shock he took a bite.

“Burrito guy is kind of cute, can I run away with him?” You said playfully, wanting to change the subject while watching Zemo to see if you could make him choke on his food. Zemo’s eyes lifted to you with a glint, he was amused that you were bold enough to say such a thing. He turned his attention to the man tending to his food cart. Crouching down to sort his supplies, napkins, chilli sauce, a pigeon swooped down and pecked at the onions and the man didn’t even look up, the pigeon flew away unnoticed. Hardly an acceptable candidate to keep you safe.

“Absolutely not.” Zemo said through laughter. Walking back to the outreach centre you noticed Zemo managed to ward enough anyone in your path with a single look in their direction, you must be the only person in New York City who wasn’t bumped into. Zemo walked ahead of you into the courtyard, picking up the axe and holding it out to you.

“Your life is your prerogative Sunshine. I do need to ask you for a favour, well two actually.” Taking the axe you narrowed your eyes, here it was the catch. “Firstly please refrain from cutting off your limbs.” He said that with a smile he reserved for when he had to be polite and he didn’t want to be. " Please be kinder to yourself.”

–

Zemo shook you awake once you arrived back, you didn’t know if it was the vibrations of the car, or just that the never ending tension in your spine had dulled slightly. Or if it was that Zemo made a point to tell you exactly where you were going before you just woke up in a new place. You did wonder what you had done? if you made the right choice? Rebecca was sleeping too, Zemo had been out in the city and didn't arrive back until late to take you both home. Could this place ever be your home?

Zemo gently pulled Rebecca from the car, rested her head on his shoulder and walked away from the house. You trailed next to him in silence knowing he was walking towards the pond, which now had a bench installed. The moon glittered on the surface as you heard the leaves rustle in the wind. Rebecca’s face squished against Zemo’s chest, slightly frowning as he sat down, he didn't speak until you sat down too.

“I lost someone very dear to me recently.” Zemo spoke lowly, moving Rebecca’s hair out of her face. “I always believed they guided me to be better, to do better, I’m not sure they ever did,” Me? “A gentle soul, saw the good in everyone including myself.” Zemo laughed ironically, knowing how much of a mistake that was for you. “The only person to call me out on my bullshit so blatantly.” Zemo smiled as if he remembered something specific, you wondered what it was. “I don’t know why I feel obligated to tell you this, I did not think it possible to die of a broken heart, “ Zemo's voice shook. “He did.��

He?

Oeznik

Zemo shifted slightly to reveal a plaque engraved with his name, a lump formed in your throat that constricted all of your air, wedged there to prevent the oncoming explosion.

“The loss of Rebecca’s mother tore him apart, the years without her, he missed her terribly, he devoted himself to Rebecca in her honour.” Zemo stood taking controlled breaths through his mouth. “Oeznik would have adored you too.”

Your heart lurched, you snapped your jaw shut and clenched your teeth as Zemo silently laid his coat on the bench and walked away. It must have taken everything he had to have kept walking, the gutteral noise that tore from you, even you never wanted to hear again. Inconsolable tears of grief poured out of you. Crying so much you thought your chest was being ripped open. Your skull shook with sobs as your hand traced his name, swearing you would do anything to bring him back. The wailing into the night just wishing he were here, crying harder when you thought about how he would console you, which only made your heart ache more.

The sun rose as your cries turned into hiccups. As you tried to steady your breaths to stop your diaphragm spasming, you felt lighter, there was something cathartic about crying, something freeing about letting it all out, even if just for one night, you sat up when you heard leaping footsteps and the giggles of your daughter running towards you, straight past, jumping without any fear at all into the pond. She emerged squealing, as you raced to the edge. Zemo waded in until he had to start swimming too. Of course she could swim, she was Zemo’s daughter, if she couldn’t he would have had the pond filled. Slipping off your shoes and paddled over to her as she encouraged you over, She was more confident in the water than you, probably a stronger swimmer. She wrapped her arms around your neck and moved her face to your ear.

“Careful of the crocodiles.”

–

After hours in the pond where Rebecca herself played the crocodile, she gave up when squirrels descended on you all, waiting patiently at Oeznik's bench for her to emerge. The nuts you ate earlier that month were for the squirrels who took them directly from her hand, then would scurry off to bury them. When she started to shiver she placed a hand on the bench and looked up into the sky with a bright smile on her face, she whispered Schatzi to herself. Which Zemo told you meant treasure. Just when you thought you couldn’t want Oeznik back anymore. Even after Rebecca was in dry clothes and bundled in blankets she shivered, She cosied up to Zemo and it wasn’t long until her eyes fluttered closed, tiring herself out from chasing after you all morning. Soon after that Zemo closed his eyes rhythmically stroking her hair, just as he used to with yours.

“Fine, even I’ll admit that's adorable.” Victor gritted as you watched them, It was moments like this you needed to hold onto. You hovered closeby, watching both their chest rise and fall, as they slept soundly. They say people know when they are being watched Zemo certainly did, the moment his eyes twitched, you rushed to grab his hands, recalling Oeznik's demonstration of waking a sleeping soldier. You quickly realised his instincts as a father were stronger, you flinched away with an apology. Apprehensive at being alone with Zemo, you felt the need to busy yourself, you moved towards the hallway.

“I need to return these to you.” Zemo said as he caught up, in his hands were the shoes Sarah brought with her, shoes with laces, no guesses for why they were taken from you. “I have some other purchases in the dining room.”

Purchases? Zemo provided everything here which you hated, you never felt comfortable taking his money, but you didn’t have much choice in the matter. Opening the door, you were greeted with every type of pillow available to mankind, square shaped, U shaped, V shaped, memory foam, cotton, firm, soft. Every type of blanket, comforter, duvet imaginable. Bed sheets with such a high thread count you weren’t sure it was possible.

“You are reluctant to sleep, perhaps you had something like this before? Do you feel drawn to any particular item?”

No? You just felt uncomfortable being put on the spot, on having to select something, when you had enough difficulty with everything as it was. You felt awkward that Zemo was trying to take care of you again, nervous to accept it, worried that none of this would ever make you feel comfortable in a bed again, remembering the last time Zemo wanted to take care of you, he built you a house, you started to scratch the palm of your hand.

“Sunshine. The very idea of me caring for you makes your skin crawl, these items are for you to care for yourself.” Zemo said with an air of authority. Piled over the chairs that remained in here, as there wasn’t a table yet, were stacks of long sleeve baggy t-shirts, more leggings, thick fluffy socks.

“I have clothes.” You uttered.

“Clothing that was purchased in an emergency, they are all polyester.” Zemo said dismissively with just a touch of disgust.

“To be fair I didn’t let you wear that either.” Victor added. Let me? Victor looked back at you unashamed matching Zemo's expression. Polyester was beneath both of them.

“I have marked a line in the bathtub as an indicator for the water.” Zemo handed you a wrapped waterproof pillow. “If you use this in combination, it will be very difficult to slip under.” Zemo encouraged. “And micro fibre towels, they are kinder to your skin, some basic skincare too.” Zemo said shyly. Nothing could save your skin, you highly doubted a towel would and there wasn’t a miracle cream out there. “I would suggest trying the weighted blanket, supposedly it aids sleep.” As overwhelmed as you were, you saw the weighted blanket for what it was, a substitute for your cloak. Zemo was willing to put aside his unbridled hate for Victor for you. “And a Loro Piana coat.” Zemo’s pitch went up, this was something he was more comfortable with, holding up the coat to you. It was an exact replica of the coat he had made for you, the emerald green coat, only this one was black. Your favourite colour. Was Zemo accepting of it now? Or would he rather you never wear emerald green again? “A new phone, the one I gave you originally is,” Zemo paused, thinking what to say. A blatant intrusion of privacy? just as you imagined this ‘new’ one would be too, “broken.” Zemo smiled, “and a new bedroom.”

“Why?”

“The master bedroom is…. can feel too large, empty at times. You will be taking the room next to Rebecca, the fireplace is still functional.”

Lips quirking just at the thought of getting the fireplace back. Maybe being closer to Rebecca would make you feel more at peace, maybe there was some merit in the weighted blanket, maybe choosing your own bedding up would help. And if not then it wasn’t like you would be losing anything more. Side eyeing Victor to make sure he would be moving to the new room with you, you agreed.

“Sunshine,” Zemo cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There is the possibility that you shared your bed before, you might be missing that comfort?”

With you? That was years ago?

“No no Sweetheart. Your darling husband thinks you shared a bed with me.”

Staring at Zemo with wide unbelieving eyes and a sneer forming on your face, you decided to make it very clear that was not the case. “I don’t even remember having a bed.” You quipped. The only time in your life that you did was with Bucky and Zemo; you had never been afforded such a luxury at other times. Zemo frowned, trying to understand, he knew you had a bed, he was tortured by the memories of your body against his. As despicable as he found Victor he wouldn’t have forced you to sleep on the floor, he would need to consult with Maria. You both heard the excited footsteps of a tiny human approach and you were glad Rebecca was right on time.

“Look!” Rebecca chimed, whipping round only to fall back into Zemo, not to find solace in his arms, to get as far away as you could from the incredibly large spider that was at least half the size of Rebecca's head crawling up her arm. “It tickles.” She hummed. IT TICKLES!

“Rebecca, maybe you should take your friend outside?” You shrilled. Pushing yourself further back and into Zemo, who kept moving back himself, trying to keep that distance between you. Rebecca moved closer with the spider in the air with two hands and it was bigger, than both her little hands. You swore the wretched thing heard your thoughts, he happily crawled back up Rebecca’s arm and onto her face, her eyes followed still sparkling and you were ready to set the house of fire. Reaching back, you clutched the collar of Zemo’s shirt and pushed him in front of you. Get that thing off her now! Zemo laughed at you, he actually laughed and you would have punched him, had he not let the spider crawl off Rebecca's face into his hands.

“I find it inexplicable that you are frightened of spiders.”

Unable to keep your eyes off its eight hairy legs, it’s black round eyes that you swore were looking at you. “I’m, I’m not scared.” You lied, grasping onto the walls, trying to climb them yourself. Zemo and Rebecca both looked at each other then turned on you, both stifling mocking giggles. “Here is what we are going to do,” You took a small side step keeping your eyes on the creature that Zemo was happy to let wander on his form. “We are all going to walk very slowly to the front door. Then Rebecca you are going to hold Mr spider just for a second, Zemo you open the door and I’ll run,” You took another step indicating for them to follow. “Then you will walk, far, far, far away from the house and let him go.” You continued side stepping, until you reached the door holding up a hand, you didn’t want that thing any closer. Rebecca happily took the spider, Zemo repressed yet another derisive smile as he slowly walked towards you.

“What are you waiting for!”

“Sunshine, are you not capable of opening a door by yourself?” He whispered. No, not this door, not in this house, you know it’s a prison. Zemo, please! He gestured for you to try. Hearing a very subtle click as your hand made contact with the knob, it recognised your fingerprints. Zemo understood that you needed to be able to open doors freely, to always have some form of escape, not complete freedom, but it certainly made you feel less trapped. You swung the door and ran knowing you should feel appreciation for being able to freely be outside without permission or Zemo, but you were too busy, rubbing your hands over your body, that spider might have friends.

–

You all made homemade pizza together for dinner. Zemo told you that if you prepared your own food, you would be able to trust he hadn't laced it with anything. Pizza his way of showing you he was compromising. Grated cheese littered the floor, Rebecca's hands were covered in tomato sauce that she routinely licked off her fingers. She selected only red peppers as her topping as it was her favourite and you wondered how immoral it would be to manipulate her to prefer a new colour. You moved your cloak and daisy chain to your new room, your most treasured possessions, as Rebecca went down for the night, you contemplating starting a fire when Zemo knocked on your door.

“Sunshine,” Zemo said firmly. “I am the prisoner now, I am no stranger to incarceration. I will be either in my room or office and I will seek permission to move between the two.” Zemo looked over your head, seeing that you had not yet made your bed, having only selected some sheets, not even a pillow. He didn’t show any emotion on his face even though you expected disappointment. "I will not encroach on your private space again. Goodnight Sunshine.”

Free roam? Well as much as Zemo could allow and as tempting as it was and as much as you should get a true layout of the house, you knew that opening doors here, just wasn’t in your best interest. You didn’t know what they would lead to, what you would see, you concluded some doors should remain closed. This house, this prison used to be a shelter and yes you would have to ignore what lay beneath. It wasn’t a lie, you weren't swallowing the truth, you knew the basement was just under your feet. Finding yourself in the kitchen, you started to put away the tornado from the pizza’s. Washing the chopping boards, plates, bowls, leaving the knives exactly where they were. There was no reason to rock the boat and honestly you weren't sure if you trusted yourself.

“Sweetheart, You are better than this. These asinine tasks? Don’t-”

“Achievements are achievements, no matter how small.” You told me that.

“Doing the dishes is not an achievement.” Victor growled. Says who? You? Zemo? Bucky? I have to fill the time with something Victor, I’m already halfway to insane. Now you knew there weren't cameras, you could talk out loud, even if were all they would see was you talking to yourself, arguing with yourself, which you felt as if you had been doing all your life. You ewminded Victor that he envied you for your being so adaptive, you had to be again, find a new way to live. If that meant doing the housework then so be it. Even if it could quieten your mind for just ten minutes you would do it. Drying the chopping board, only to realise you didn’t know where it was kept now, the kitchen wasn’t the same. Opening cupboards, pulling out a mixer, a blender, a rolling pin, removing utensils, plates, champagne glasses, whisky tumblers, a slow cooker. Before you knew it every cupboard was empty, you stood amongst the chaos, ready to begin again.

–

“Oh no!”

What's wrong?

Lifting your head with a groan to Rebecca standing in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands over her mouth, hair all messy and a nightie just slightly lopsided. Her golden eyes rounded as she took the scene in. Which meant you had to look at what she could see, you needed more than a second to fully come to your senses, feeling the indented lines from the mixer across your face, you feel asleep hunched over it.

“I’ll clear it up.” You rushed out, half of the contents of the kitchen was still splayed across counters, haphazardly thrown across the island, scattered across the floor.

Zemo didn’t show a single emotion on his face. “No, your task is not completed.” Zemo lifted Rebecca up, carefully took a step into the kitchen. Setting Rebecca down on the island, he picked up the first bowl he laid his eyes on and asked you to pass the cereal, which was in the far corner of the room. Navigating through this mess was easy for you, you had been doing it unknowingly all your life, it was easy for Zemo too as he joined you. “Sunshine, please make this your home. If you need to rearrange the kitchen, anywhere do so. If you need to tear this house apart brick by brick, do so. If you need to flatten cities, I will be by your side."

Unsure that you heard him and not another on of Victor's tirades, you had to check.“You would watch as I flatten cities?”

“No I would show you precisely how to execute such an idea.” Zemo insisted as if he weren't trying to disparage you. Victor’s smile widened significantly, just want you needed Victor in one ear begging you to kill everyone and Zemo in the other handing you a gun. No one is flattening cities. You had both seen and lived the consequences of that. It was a once in a lifetime event. You thrust the cereal into Zemo's chest and he had the nerve to look hurt that you rejected his idea.

“No one is doing that ever again.” You said out loud, ensuring that he understood that it was in no way permission for him to do such a thing either. Zemo gave a weak nod and backed off. Victor opened his mouth to plead with you and you gave him a warning glance as Zemo’s back was turned. “How, how does this house even work? If it is totally off the grid how do you pay for electricity and water?” You asked.

“I siphon it all from a farmer down the road," Zemo said casually, trying to make sense of the tangle in Rebecca’s hair as she ate her cereal sitting crossed legged on the island. His offhandedness about it, that it was completely acceptable to steal and not have it bother him at all. “Ethel and I have an agreement. I purchase her eggs for $500 a piece.” Zemo added. It wasn’t like you could argue, that price was beyond extortion, but then Zemo had a fully functioning house and her silence. Zemo took you over there, Ethel smacked him upside the head, which Zemo responded in kind by smiling politely and handing her a wad of bills.

“I imagine that was a parting gift from Oeznik, he had many more dealings with her.”

You laughed Oeznik was still here, even if it was in the form of putting Zemo back in his place. As Rebecca’s bed time loomed and you dreaded being without her, you pilfered her rest and were rewarded with her cheeky smiles. Stealing a marshmallow from Zemo’s hot chocolate you put a finger to her lips and her eyes dazzled. Purposely looking away you watched Zemo do the same to your hot chocolate out of the corner of your eye, putting his finger to his lips as if he turned a key, to keep Rebecca quiet, which she was incapable of doing. She was snorting to herself, delving into such a fit of giggles, she could barely breathe, tears sprang to her eyes and yours. That was it, right there, your favourite sound in the world, and for a moment, for just one moment, everything felt worth it.

–

You were brutally woken up by a tennis ball to the head, so discombobulated you were shocked you caught the second one only through intuition, through years of Victor's training and conditioning. Holding the bright green ball in your hand, waiting for your mind to comprehend what the hell was going on, you jumped at the clearing of a throat. To see Zemo standing in your doorway, tennis ball in his hand resting at his side. Now your mind had a second to catch up, you recalled the memory of your skin being torn off, a nightmare, one Zemo woke you from, without violating his rule, he would never enter your room. Giving him a weak and embarrassed thank you, you pulled yourself out of bed, ready to wash the sticky sheen of sweat from yourself.

Zemo reminded you to carry our new phone with you and not leave it in the bedroom as Sarah had to call him when you didn’t answer. You didn’t trust that he wasn’t looking at the new phone as he had with the old one, you also hated it because it sent you an alert for every single threat across the globe, something Sarah told you Sam and Bucky’s phone did, to be kept in the loop, Victor talked you though turning those off and they still came. Sarah was only trying to contact you because she said you were making dinner together by video call, accidentally saying it was to fill your time and almost slipping up that you both used to do this together. After Rebecca was settled in for the night both you and Zemo headed to the kitchen, propping up your phone against the coffee machine as it brewed a very late coffee, which Zemo gave you free reign of.

Happy to see Sarah more at ease with you on the small screen, she was just as delighted to see that your eyes weren’t so sullen, that you didn’t look so haggard, that you didn’t have that look in your eyes of wanting to immediately run away. Lasagne was on the menu and you had to remind yourself to not gather all of the ingredients to wait for Sarah’s instruction, patiently waiting for Zemo to begin chopping garlic. You were astounded when he passed you the knife and the chopping board. Unsurprisingly he lingered dangerously close, watching your every move, as if his being this close to a knife and near you wasn’t bad enough, you felt suffocated by him, looking over your shoulder instead of the task at hand. He had encouraged you to tell him what was wrong at any given moment, to point out his failures was his exact wording so you muted yourself from Sarah.

“Rebecca’s asleep, shouldn’t you be in your room?” You reminded Zemo.

“This is a compromise Sunshine, I am only this close to ensure you do not drive that knife into your heart.” Into my heart? Yes you supposed there was always the chance but while on a video call with Sarah? Your eyes flickered to Sarah and Zemo shifted slightly away, not nearly enough, but he did move, chucking a handful more of garlic cloves onto the chopping board. “Garlic is measured by the heart.” Zemo chimed.

“You have one of those?” You jabbed while pointing the knife in his direction, he just smiled fondly at you as Sarah started to tap the screen, she was trying not to do so frantically, but the look in her eye gave her away. Another alert on your phone only caused you to narrow your eyes further.

“Those alerts are to keep you informed, you need to be aware of the goings on in the world.” Zemo stated. He wanted you to be aware now, instead of having the wool pulled over your eyes as before, to give you as much intel as he possibly could. I don’t want to know. “I will have Shuri remove them.” Zemo acquiesced. Taking Sarah off mute, you continued making the dish, whenever the knife was in your possession Zemo struggled not to breathe down your neck, otherwise he let you and Sarah chat, even stretching your leg up to show her, the shoes she got you, putting the dish in the oven you waved Sarah goodbye.

“Could we discuss improvements?” Zemo said uncertainty. What improvements? For lasagne? He added the garlic? No, he meant improvements for you, he still expected you to get better.

“I’m not going to improve.” You starting taking it back as soon as you saw the rise of his eyebrows. “I mean, of course I can, just tell me what to do.”

“The improvements are for me Sunshine. Your well being is paramount to me.” Zemo said solemnly at your reaction, the instantaneous fear response that you couldn't quite shake. “Your efforts do not go unnoticed.” Zemo said, trying to steer to conversation away from anything that might send you into a spiral. “In a few days I will need to fetch supplies, is there anything you need?”

“Who is staying with us?” You asked, ready to prepare yourself for a new guest, a new person who would be witness to your screams in the middle of the night. You couldn’t be left alone, you were a liability, a risk to everyone, including Rebecca.

Zemo’s eyebrows pinched. “I am quite talented at reading people, I know that if anything were to happen you would guard Rebecca with your life. Do not let your insecurities cloud your ability to care for her. My only concern is that you will be alone with the thoughts that plague you, I will retrieve the necessities during the day.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You voiced and Zemo opened his mouth to argue, closing it shut rapidly seeing that you weren't ready, you weren't sure if you ever would be.

“The secondary fridge is well stocked,” Before you could ask where that was, Zemo answered, “Behind the blanket storage.” Zemo smiled ruefully. A fridge? Not a torture chamber? That did sound like something Zemo would do, you saw the insane lengths he went to in Louisiana, that he built a house underneath the actual house, you could all probably live down there for a few months, probably live here for a few years, given the chance, that was more than like Zemo’s ideal, in one place that couldn't be penetrated, he would call it safe, even if it was a prison.

“Sorry, it must feel like you are taking care of two children.” You said sadly. Zemo didn’t respond to that, not yet anyway. He slid a plastic card over to you, untraceable you presumed. “I don’t want your money.”

“The funds in this account did not come from me, they came from a woman called Pepper Potts.”

You choked on thin air, Pepper Potts, wife of Tony Stark Pepper Potts? Composing yourself, you had to maintain an air of ignorance. You were not supposed to know who either of those people were. Zemo refrained from rubbing your back, to get you through the small trembling coughs that were still spluttering from you.

“Financial freedom, or at the very least an attempt of it, I tried to be diligent in..” Zemo trailed off. “Pepper and I had a video conference, she is aware of your situation. She watched her husband torment himself, believing he was the only one capable of protecting the world. She understands that desire to shield, to conserve.. Sunshine just take it.” Zemo sighed. The desire to shield, like Tony had with the world, for his daughter Morgan, for his wife Pepper. The same burning need Zemo felt to protect you and Rebecca. Zemo reminded Pepper of Tony, that must have been a difficult conversation. You were shocked Pepper even agreed to talk to Zemo. You asked for her number to thank her, which you did by text. You doubted you would ever get a response, Pepper exiled herself and lived a life of seclusion, just as you were doing. Not that you ever needed to use the money, you knew Zemo well enough to know he would make sure you didn't need to.

“Two children?” Zemo wondered aloud, looking into the darkness outside. “One is astounding, the very embodiment of how I know that somewhere in my depraved life, I did one thing right. See’s the good in everyone, sometimes I believe she is too pure for this world.” Zemo said sadly, his thumb stroking the back of his golden wedding band. “The very reason I wish the world would change its heart, so she doesn’t have to change for it.” Zemo said wistfully, it was the perfect way to describe Rebecca. Zemo looked directly at you. “And the other one is sleeping upstairs.”

“I’m not like that.” Not anymore.You said blinking back the burn from the tears forming in your eyes, heartbroken that Zemo had any faith left in you at all.

“I have a gut feeling you were born that way.”

Next Part: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31451681/chapters/119611552

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #dark!zemo #dark zemo #dark #dr doom #bucky

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deadlikestorm · 1 year

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Will you still love me tomorrow?

CHAPTER 1:

They met when they were twelve. Well, he was twelve. She was thirteen. At her young age of thirteen, She had seen some wild things. Her innocence was stripped and she questioned who she truly was now. She had no one to talk to. No one to look up to in a time of need. Everyone she has ever loved, had betrayed her, for a different motive. Sure, they had seen each other before, But they truly had no reason tot talk before she caught Feelings for his friend, Jeremiah. In her eyes Jeremiah was everything. Jeremiah was the perfect boy for her. She had dreamed of asking him out for months, her friends told her not to because he clearly wasnt a good person or a good option But, she did what she wanted and didnt let anyone stop her. Thats one of the reasons she was great in debate. He loved her for that. But she didnt know, she didnt pay enough attention to him in the time being. She was so worried about Jeremiah she didnt care about the others impacted by her actions around her. And thats why he began to hate her. He saw every detail about her, How much she cared & how much Jeremiah didnt. He saw the way Jeremiah treated her and how she allowed it. He hated her for that. So he devoted his life to hating her, because he couldnt help but relate to her in some small way. and he couldnt help but want her even more.

MASTERLIST

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missvifdor · 2 years

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FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 9, 2022:

Either it was a mini Shift and I really communicated with Wanda or it was a dream and in this case only the part with Wanda was not a dream because I'm sure our conversation really happened !

I think we found ourselves in another reality Wanda, Bucky and me and that we were aware of it (like this fiction with Severus Time Travel that I read).

I think we were in a classroom at a formation center. And the teacher announced that in the afternoon we were going to see a movie called "Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness". I immediately glanced at Wanda who looked resigned.

When the lunch break took place, leaving the class I joined Wanda as we descended a staircase to leave the building and go to lunch. I told her, if I'm not mistaken, that she didn't have to go see the movie if it was too painful for her.

She told me she had to and see the mistakes she had made. I replied that she had lost the person she loved and her two children.

Of course in her grief and pain she would have found a way to find them! She is a mother.

If it hadn't been for that evil book poisoning her pain and mind, then obviously she wouldn't have done all the horror she did (Even if from a "diabolical" point of view I rather find her reasonable).

I told her that I somehow understood.

Wanda smiled at me with pain.

We finally went down the street to look for a place to have lunch. Along the way I asked her a rather odd question at the time: Was it possible for her to see where Doctor Strange was when she was using her powers and her eyes were turning red where he was in the Multiverse when he was looking for her to be able to better choose his hiding places and escape him?

She told me that she somehow could but either Strange was looking for her to neutralize her or he didn't know she was still alive. Spoilers alert, Strange tracked her down and it all sucked from there.

Then this serious conversation ended here and we ran into Bucky on our way, made him have lunch with us and he was his usual grumpy grandpa.

Then after or before the afternoon cinema session (I'm not sure anymore) I let Wanda know again that if she didn't want to see the images again or if she wanted to talk about it, it was completely ok.

Then at that moment an Iron Man armor went through a magic portal and everything went downhill from there. It was a massacre.

We still managed to defeat the armor but Bucky and I had become maggots on the ground so much the fight had exhausted him and I remember passing out.

As for Wanda, she simply fled to another Reality, I suppose. I was very sad that she left us without saying goodbye but I remember it was also sad for her too.

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pellucid-constellations · 6 months

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Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n: This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?”

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?”

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.”

“He was talking shit about the team!”

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.”

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown.

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was.

An opportunity to see you.

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box.

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away.

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.”

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?”

“Hey, he did.”

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated.

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?”

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.”

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him.

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one.

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not.

But, damn, were you busy right now.

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you.

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off.

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you.

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.”

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.”

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations?

Never. Because you were so damn busy.

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could.

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?”

“Yes.”

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.”

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.”

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck.

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo.

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey.

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.”

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.”

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three.

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair.

“I don’t know. In the night.”

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?”

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.”

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.”

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back.

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.”

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.”

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you.

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.”

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin.

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him.

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream.

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.”

“I wouldn’t call it lying.”

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face.

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.”

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.”

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.”

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.”

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?”

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away.

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented.

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him.

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen.

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real.

God, he loved you.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.”

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin.

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—”

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.”

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.”

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.”

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder.

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.”

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow.

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more.

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for.

But he always got what he wanted in the end.

And, more than anything, he wanted you.

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?”

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.”

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.”

“I know what first means, baby.”

“Good.”

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually.

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?”

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.”

“Always, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #college!bucky #athlete!bucky #bucky barnes

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buckgasms · 10 months

Text

Doctors Barnes and Rogers (Part 6)

So this is the final part of this official story, but I am absolutely open to writing little drabbles for them so please do send them in to me 🩷

Thank you for all the love and reblogs and comments throughout it! Love you all loads!

What a wild ride this has been 🤣

This was the absolute most typical thing that could happen. Both of them had gone out, Bucky to work and Steve to get groceries and as you had gone to get yourself a drink.....

Your waters had broken.

You stood in the kitchen in a state of shock and nerves. It wasn't a total surprise given how huge you were and the fact the two doctors had been checking you out regularly and explaining each part of the journey in excellent detail.

It was just that you were alone and the fear of what the next day or two would hold, let alone the rest of your life, would be like.

Finally your brain caught up with the situation and you started scrambling to your phone and called Steve...

"Hey honey, did you ne-"

"Baby is coming!!!" You screeched down the phone, "water broke, it's coming you need to get home!"

He was silent for a beat before he chuckled and his calm voice filled your mind. "Ok pretty girl, it's all gonna be fine. Just relax, I'll be home before you know it." He pauses and you can picture him with a shy smile on his face. "Wow... Can't believe it's finally happening..."

You smile and he tells you he's on his way home. "Don't forget to get chocolate... I still want chocolate, baby or not!"

🍼

By the time Steve arrived home you had already called Bucky and he was zooming home from the office. Your contractions had also begun and although they were quite minor, they still felt really uncomfortable. Luckily Steve was fine with you squeezing his hand and did a really good job of helping you breathe through them.

Your serenity was interrupted by Bucky bursting through the door and storming into the living room. You can't help but giggle at how crazy he looks, your giggles becoming louder as he becomes indignant at yours and Steve's laughter.

"What?? You called me in a panic about water breaking and now you're laughing at me?" You peal into more giggles until another sharp contraction hits you. You can't help but whimper as Bucky grabs your free hand and sits down next to you.

"Sorry Bucky" you say between breaths but he just smiles and kisses your head. "It's ok sweetheart, anything to make you smile hmm?" As it passes you smile and press a kiss to his cheek, quickly providing one for Steve before he could complain about it.

🍼

After a few hours it was decided it was time go to hospital. It had been agreed between the three of you that that was the best place to be, and both Steve and Bucky could be there to support you and enjoy the moment, rather than work. Although you had no doubts they would try to take over as much as they could.

You sat in the back of Steve's car with Bucky as he held your hand and stroked your tummy. "You feeling ok darlin'?" he said, analysing you a little as you smiled tightly. "Yeah I'm ok, just feel nervous. What if something happens? Or what if I'm not cut out for being a mother?"

He smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. "You are amazing, everything you've done has just been incredible and we love you so much. Whatever happens we are in this together, we'll take care of you, and this one..."

You wiped your eyes and kissed him again, feeling better as you squeezed his hand. "Still think it's going to be a girl?" You said and he nodded, "1000%" Steve laughed from the front and shook his head. "That's how much you're gonna owe me when it's a boy" he said wiggling his eyebrows at you in the mirror, making you giggle and roll your eyes.

You were more interested in who the baby's daddy was. But you had never asked, afraid it would make one of them feel left out. But you just wanted to know... Blonde or Brunette.

🍼

Your contractions were coming thick and fast now you were settled in your hospital bed. You had been given gas and air which was delightful, but it was still so painful and you couldn't help let your groans loud in an attempt to relieve some of the pain.

Steve was rubbing your back as Bucky gripped your hand in his, both of them coaching you through it. Sadly they were doing it in quite contradictory ways.

"Deep breaths" said Steve, while Bucky suggested "breathe quickly through the contractions to help you manage it" and in an attempt to please them both you were doing short, deep, fast breaths until you felt dizzy.

After a while of this you finally flopped back on the bed and swatted at both of them. "You must stop" and they both looked shocked as you glared towards them. "I can't do both, just let me breath and if I need help I will ask you!" They looked sheepish and apologised before offering a hand each for you to grab, just in time for your next contraction.

🍼

It had been 12 hours. You were utterly exhausted and every bit of your body was either in agony or just aching. You had cried, cursed and yelled with no end in sight.

In a moment of calm you sat with Bucky as he pressed a cold flannel to your forehead and pressed a kiss to your hand. "Bucky I'm so tired" you croaked as a little tear slid down your face, he leaned in to kiss your cheek. "I know sweetheart, but you are doing so well. Steve and I are so proud of you..."

"But why won't he come out?" You said as your head flopped back on the pillow. "Ooh so you think it's a boy huh?" Bucky leans over and kisses your face, teasing as you can't help but huff out a laugh. "At this moment I don't care if it's bright green, just get it out of me..."

He chuckles as Steve leans in as well and strokes your hair. "You want us to have a word? See if we can move things along?" You giggled as he moves down to your tummy and taps gently.

"Hey buddy, Daddy here. Listen, you've been driving your momma crazy and we can't wait, so can you get a move on in there?" He presses a kiss to your tummy and you giggle again.

Just then the doctor comes in and gives you a commiserating look. "You've been doing so well, let's see if we can get you moving along now..."

She takes a seat at your bottom half and lifts your gown as Bucky moves to take a look. "Bucky don't be a backseat Doctor" you groan but he ignores you with a smile on his face as the Doctor checks your dilation.

"Well, I don't know what you said Dr Rogers but it's time... Baby's ready."

Your laugh turns into a whimper and turns back into a giggle. "Oh I don't think I can actually.... Maybe we can wait...?"

All three of them look at you with that annoying doctor face. "Honey, don't worry, we'll be with you the whole time, it's gonna be ok..."

"It's coming out of me! A baby! One of your babies, it's going to be huge! I can't do this. I won't..."

The doctor moves outside to give you a moment as they join you again, soft looks on their faces. Bucky strokes your cheek and rubs his nose against yours. "It's alright pretty girl. I know it's scary, but once it's done we'll have our baby. Our little baby who we can love and treasure and take care of... Let's go and do this now, she's ready and so are we sweetness..."

You nod after a shaky breath and finally you are wheeled into the delivery room.

🍼

After another hour or so you were back in your hospital room, but this time you had a little baby in your arms. It was so quiet compared to the screaming and beeping and talking in the delivery room.

Now it was just the two of you, a baby with a little pink cap softly gurgling and breathing deeply in your arms. She was so beautiful and smelled so heavenly, her warm little body felt like a little hot water bottle. She was so tiny, but your love for her was enormous.

Bucky and Steve joined you and settled on the bed next to you, making a lovely little sandwich of you and your baby girl.

"She's so perfect" you whisper before looking at them both. Bucky's fingers rub over the little pink hat and Steve brushes your hair and presses a kiss to your temple.

"You've done amazing sweetheart. We're so proud of you."

You smile and kiss them both, as your eyes flutter closed, the adrenaline finally running out and exhaustion taking over you.

"Sleep honey, we've got you... We've got you both..."

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #doctor bucky #doctor steve rogers #doctor rogers #doctor barnes #dr stucky #stucky x you #doctor stucky #stucky x reader #stucky #bucky x reader x steve

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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months

Text

exposure therapy

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut

Repost

You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.

You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.

A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.

Bucky.

A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.

Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”

His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.

You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.

You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.

You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.

You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.

On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.

Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.

He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you

“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.

He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ��cause it was with you.”

You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”

“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”

“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”

Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.

You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”

You turned back around, “Yeah?”

“Is that a real thing?”

You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”

He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”

Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.

Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.

He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.

He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.

The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.

"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.

"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"

You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.

The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.

"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."

The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.

Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.

You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.

"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.

"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.

"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.

"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.

"Let's play a game."

He looked at you, questioningly.

"20 questions."

He turned to face you.

"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"

"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."

"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.

"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.

"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.

"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."

"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"

"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?

"Me? Oh, I like reading."

"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"

"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.

"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.

You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"

"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.

You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.

He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.

"Ready?"

"No."

You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."

You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.

You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.

"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.

He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."

You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.

You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.

You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.

Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.

After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).

Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.

Raynor picked up on it.

"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"

Bucky stared out the window.

"James?"

He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.

"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."

"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"

"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.

You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.

Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.

You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.

"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.

You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.

He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.

Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."

Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"

He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Too many teenagers."

Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"

"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."

Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."

She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.

"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.

"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.

You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"

"Maybe?"

You laughed.

"Is that a yes?"

"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."

When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.

You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.

He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.

You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.

You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.

Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.

"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.

Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.

You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.

Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.

You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.

"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.

He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"

You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.

Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."

There it was again. 'My girl.'

The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.

You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.

"Doll, you're driving me crazy."

"Take me home, Barnes."

He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.

He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.

He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.

Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.

He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.

His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.

"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."

His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.

The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.

He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's my good little girl."

He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.

Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.

"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.

He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.

He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.

"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach

You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."

He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.

"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."

"Love you, Buck."

"Love you too, Doll."

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bukcy barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut #no y/n

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ellemj · 5 months

Text

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 8

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-7 first for the full effect.**

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first mission since the one where you were exposed to the sex pollen. Only this time, you have a professional babysitter observing you both and a game that neither of you is willing to stop playing.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut and prelude to upcoming smut, profanity, teasing, brief mention of drug use as an analogy, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author's Note: Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for giving this a read earlier today and convincing me not to scrap it, and for going back through my blog and listing out the warnings that I might've been missing. A true angel.

It’s been 7 days since your chemically-induced lust-filled night with Bucky in the safehouse. 7 days since he had his hands on you, since he was inside you, since he last kissed you. It’s been 4 days since your first partner talk session with Dr. Raynor. 4 days spent wondering what might happen if she comes to a sure conclusion that the two of you really did have sex that night. Will she suggest to Fury that your partnership be terminated? Will she spill the secret to the rest of the team? You don’t even know what you want the outcome to be, but thinking about it puts you on edge.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky have been playing a very dangerous game. After that tense moment in the gym showers on Monday evening, you had a fairly normal team dinner upstairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until the dinner turned into everyone piling into the main living area to watch some movie that Sam insisted was an absolutely necessary nightcap. Somehow, you ended up seated next to Bucky on one end of the sectional. You did a great job keeping your focus on the movie for the first thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Bucky very intentionally manspread on the couch that you felt like you were going to be needing an emergency exit. He made sure that the side of his thigh was pressed against the side of yours for the next ten minutes, and that alone made your body temperature increase to an uncomfortable degree. You tried nudging him with your knee, to get him to scoot away from you, but it only encouraged him to be bolder. He did the typical relaxed-male thing and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind you. The movement enveloped you in his scent and it was too much to handle. You were quick to excuse yourself and not come back to finish the movie. No one questioned it though. You’d had a lot of early nights since you came back from the HYDRA facility mission. Everyone else chalked it up to you recovering from the chemical exposure or maybe jetlag, but Bucky knew what you were doing. Avoiding him. He was having so much fun playing your little game, waiting for you to cave and give into your desires. You were kind of cheating by keeping yourself away from him. That’s not how the game is supposed to be played.

You can’t avoid him today. Today, you’ve both been called in to be briefed on your first partner mission since the HYRDA facility one. Sam didn’t offer many details about it when he first asked you both to be in the conference room at noon today, so neither of you really know what you’re walking into. If it’s anything like your usual missions, it’ll be some breaking and entering or a smash-and-grab type situation. It’s what you and Bucky are best at. Getting in quietly, getting what you need, and getting out. And of course, you’re undeniably good at working together to take down any obstacles along the way.

You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall to the conference room, arriving twenty minutes before noon so you won’t immediately be thrown into the bustle of a briefing. You always show up early enough to read any mission files that have already been set out on the table for the upcoming op. You don’t like to go into these meetings completely blind. As you scan your palm to gain access to the room, you hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Seems like you aren’t the only one who decided to show up early today. You don’t know who you were expecting to find behind the closed door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dr. Raynor.

“Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.” Her voice is calm and collected, like she isn’t surprised at all that you’re standing right in front of her. You stare at her with a hint of confusion spreading across your face. Are you in the wrong conference room? No, there’s only one conference room on this floor of the compound. She must be in the wrong room. Dr. Raynor can see the wheels in your head turning as you try to figure out why she’s here. She decides to save you the trouble. “I’m observing your missions, remember?”

Ah, so this is the beginning of the babysitting.

---

Bucky wouldn’t say that he’s ever particularly nervous before going out in the field. If anything, he’s more calm than usual. He operates best when he’s under pressure, when he has tasks to complete. He can’t stand doing nothing for extended periods of time. He gets far too consumed with his thoughts when he lets his mind go idle. Yet, today he finds himself on edge. He doesn’t have to think too hard to figure out why, not with Dr. Raynor standing amongst the various SHIELD agents and analysts, watching as you both equip your in-ear monitors and get ready to make the drive to the gala that you’ll be attending undercover tonight. She puts him on edge, and not in a good way like you do. She makes him second-guess his decisions, she makes him more self-conscious. That can be a good thing at times, like when he’s being self-destructive. But in the field? He doesn’t need to be second-guessing himself when both of your lives are on the line.

As Sam drones on, reminding you both of the main tasks to be completed during the mission tonight, your mind is elsewhere. Bucky seems so distant. He’s standing right beside you but he isn’t quite himself. He’s a little too quiet, a little too unfocused. You can’t tell what’s eating at him but you fear it’s the stupid teasing game you’ve both been playing all week. Maybe he let it get to his head.

“Why do I feel like neither one of you are listening to me?” Sam suddenly asks, snapping his fingers around in the air to get your attention. You and Bucky both focus in on him.

“It’s a simple op, Sam. Get in, put on a show, slip into the elevator, plug the device into the computer in the home office upstairs, then slip back out.” Bucky reiterates the plan, proving he didn’t really need to be paying all that much attention. Sam rolls his eyes, holding out a device that looks like a little USB drive. Bucky takes it and drops it into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. He looks good tonight. Who are you kidding? He always looks good. But tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit, complete with a black button-up shirt underneath and a black tie. Of course, he’s wearing his black gloves as well. As Sam tells him how important it is that he not lose that tiny little device, you find your eyes lingering on Bucky’s thighs. His pants hug them just right, exemplifying the toned muscles there and reminding you of how good he looks without any clothing obstructing your view of him. Fuck. You keep forgetting that Dr. Raynor is just a few feet away, analyzing your every move.

It only takes a few more minutes of discussion before you and Bucky are climbing into a sleek black car and heading out of the garage of the compound. As soon as you’re out and onto the interstate, you let out a deep sigh, sinking back into your seat. You’re wearing the tiniest black dress that you own, it’s one of your favorites really. You don’t get many occasions to show it off, so you chose to put it on tonight. You don’t notice it at first, but when you lean back in the seat, your dress rides higher up your thigh and Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much that his flesh knuckles turn white on one hand and his vibranium hand nearly leaves a dent. He needs to cool down.

Neither of you have your in-ear monitors on yet. You won’t turn them on until you’re nearing the gala, since it’s a forty-minute drive there. There’s no point in listening to Sam chat up whoever happens to be sitting near him, he’ll do that just fine without the two of you having to suffer through it. You love Sam like family, but the man likes to talk more than a teenage schoolgirl.

“Where are you tonight?” You ask, referring to the way Bucky seemed so out of focus and distant back in the garage.

“I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. You sigh and cross your legs. This time, you don’t miss the way Bucky’s gaze darts over to you, running up your legs as your dress slides impossibly higher up your thigh. Any higher and he might be able to tell what color panties you’re wearing tonight. He adjusts himself in his seat, shifting his hips a little and pressing his head back against the headrest. He looks uncomfortable, and when you let your eyes scan down his body, you quickly find out why. He’s hard. Not even slightly hard. Fully erect and clearly testing the strength of his pant seams. In a split second, you make a decision to continue the game. You were going to give it a rest tonight. With Dr. Raynor watching you both so closely and already thinking that you’ve had sex, you didn’t think it’d be smart to push your luck. But you got all dressed up. Why let it go to waste?

“Bucky…” You say, in a sultry tone. Bucky’s knuckles go white again at the sound of you saying his name. You notice it this time. He fucking hates how easy it is for you to get a rise out of him. It’s not even his own fault. You avoided him so much the last couple of days. Seeing you now, dressed like this? It’s like he’s an addict and he’s been without his drug of choice for too long. He’s in the beginning stages of withdrawal and his next fix is staring right at him, calling his fucking name. “What are the boundaries tonight?” You ask. Though the question itself sounds professional, the way you delivered it is anything but. You asked it in a way that implies you want to know so you can test whatever boundaries he lays out. You have all of the power in this moment and he can’t stand it. Do you think he doesn’t know what game you’re playing?

“We need boundaries?” He asks, flipping the script on you. You lose your wits for a moment, unsure of what the hell to say back to him. He was supposed to lay out a few boundaries like no kissing with tongue or hands below the belt, so then you could cross the lines anyway just to fuck with him. He wasn’t supposed to make it a free-for-all. You’re silent for a few seconds too long and he can’t stand it. “I asked you a question.”

Holy fuck. Where does he get off being so demanding with you? You hate it and love it all at the same time. It sends a raging heat straight to your core and you feel your panties dampening with arousal. Your mind follows your body’s cues and answers him the way he expects to be answered: promptly.

“Yes.” You muster the words up, but they come out soft. He zapped your confident demeanor away with one little phrase. He tsks now, relaxing in his seat. He’s gained control back and he’s relishing in it. He steers with only his left hand now, moving to rest his flesh hand over the gear shift between the two of you.

“What boundaries do you need tonight?” He questions. Your mind immediately goes back to the two rules you had in the safehouse that night, though you only ever said one of them out loud. No kissing, and no using his name. You broke both of those rules before the sun ever came up. Obviously your first rule won’t fly in this situation, given the nature of the mission. Your second rule could be useful, considering Bucky’s cover name is simply going to be his real first name: James.

“I don’t know.” You admit, after careful consideration.

“You’re not going to tell me not to kiss you this time?”

“I don’t think we could get away with not kissing when we’re supposed to be convincing everyone there that we want to fuck.” You point out. Bucky laughs lightly, moving the car into the left lane to pass a very slowly traveling Kia.

“We wanted to fuck last week but we didn’t kiss until it had already happened a few times.”

He really just said that.

“We wanted to or we needed to?” You ask, just to clarify. He chuckles under his breath as he moves the car back into the right lane.

“Wanted to, needed to, we can go with whichever makes you feel better.”

“You’re such an ass.” You scoff, crossing your arms. This small act pushes your breasts up a bit and Bucky can tell out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t dare to peel his eyes away from the road and steal a look, because if he does, he’ll crash this damn car when he can’t stop looking at you.

“No kissing tonight.” He says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he still doesn’t give you so much as a sideways glance.

“Bucky, there’s no way we can pull off an assignment like this without kissing.” It’s not that you want to kiss him, but how else will you make it obvious that you want to fuck? You can’t risk botching the mission as part of your stupid little side game.

“You can kiss anywhere except my lips.” He offers, acting like that’s some sort of compromise. As much as you want to argue with him, there is no fucking way you’re going to sit here in this car and plead for him to let you kiss his lips tonight. There isn’t a chance in hell.

The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly. Bucky pulled the car into the dramatic gated entrance of a mansion and stopped at the valet. You knew he’d already gotten into character when he turned to you before getting out of the driver’s seat and told you to stay put. He then waved the valet away from your side of the car, before calmly walking over and opening the door for you himself. It was almost attractive. But you know that wasn’t something he normally would’ve done. He’s just playing the part.

Bucky holds out a gloved hand for you, which you accept, and then he helps you out of the car. Once you’re standing in front of him on your favorite black ankle-strap heels, he pushes the car door shut behind you and rests his left hand on your lower back. You tug the hem of your dress a little further down your thighs, since it rode up so much in the car, and surprisingly, Bucky appreciates that. Though he loved getting to see so much of your skin, he didn’t want everyone surveilling the mission to see it too. He also didn’t know if he could continue to think straight with how short your dress was becoming.

As he guides you up the front steps of the mansion and into the double doors, his hand slips a little lower so it’s resting just millimeters above your ass. You feel your cheeks warming and butterflies waking up within you, but you tamp them down fast. This isn’t real. Fake it, get the intel you’re here for, and then get home and get the hell away from Bucky. That’s what you keep telling yourself.

The only problem you were having was that Bucky was way too fucking good at faking it. He walked you right into the gala and wasted no time grabbing you a glass of champagne from a passing server. He found the two of you a nice corner to cozy up in, but made sure it was one that everyone could clearly see. He made sure that you weren’t hidden from plain sight. Then, as you took the first sip of champagne, he started in on step one.

“You’re staring.” You whisper, his blue eyes following your every move. He’s standing close in front of you, the glass of champagne in his hand looking almost miniature, and his breath fanning across your lips.

“I’m staring.” He agrees. Why is your heart racing? Jesus. This mission was a bad call. You turn away from him, taking the moment to scan the room. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Everyone is dressed beautifully, drinking champagne and chatting away. Most of these guests probably have no idea that the owner of this house is the type of criminal that he is.

Dr. Raynor is watching the live surveillance footage of the mission play out before her from her seat in the conference room of the tower. She’s jotting down notes as she observes you and Bucky, thoroughly surprised by what she’s seeing. Bucky is excelling at feigning the attraction and making it seem like he wants you. You, however, look anxious. You’ve barely even spoken since entering the gala three minutes ago and she’s starting to wonder if you’re going to wash the entire op down the drain.

Bucky keeps his eyes focused on you as you now stand in front of him. He can tell how tense you are. What he can’t tell is if it’s because you don’t want to have to do this with him or if it’s because you do, and that makes you nervous as hell. Of course, the latter is right.

“Come on, you two. Let’s get things moving.” Sam speaks through your in-ear monitors. Bucky takes a step forward now, stepping so close to you that his chest brushes against your back and your cascading, softly curled hair tickles his chin. You smell like strawberries. It’s the same intoxicating scent that he had to wash off of his skin after your night together.

“It’s just me.” He breathes the words out next to your ear, trying to ease your nerves. You let yourself relax against him a little, taking another sip of champagne and closing your eyes for a moment. It’s just him. The guy that’s saved your ass in the field so many times that you’ve lost count. The guy that you’d trust above anyone else, even as you give him shit just for the hell of it. The guy that gave you the best sex of your life, not just once, but five fucking times in a row. It's just him.

“Okay…” You whisper, deciding that you can be as calm and level-headed as he’s being right now. This is going to be easy. You’re a professional, after all.

It’s not until you find yourself with your back against a wall and Bucky’s hands on your waist that you think you might be in over your head. It started out slow, light touches and seemingly innocent whispers in each other’s ears while standing at the very busy bar. After quite a few people started to give the two of you looks, Bucky led you over to an area where a handful of couples were gathered, chatting amongst themselves. That’s where he chose to make a display of grabbing your ass with his vibranium hand, making you gasp and lean into his chest. Trying to play off the gasp as being intentional, you immediately attached your lips to his neck. Kissing and sucking on the soft skin there. Even his skin tastes fucking good. You can’t help yourself when you start having flashbacks to the night you spent together. Once you start thinking about how good it felt with him that night, you begin chasing that feeling. You want him all over you, you want him inside you again. Though you know you can’t have that, you know you can get pretty damn close to it before this mission ends. So, you up your game. This time, you don’t have to hide any evidence of what you’re doing, because you were assigned to do this. You use that as your excuse for sucking a little mark on the side of Bucky’s neck, leaving him with something to find in the mirror later. As your lips leave his neck, one of his hands travels quickly up your back and he tangles his fingers in your hair at the back of your head. He tilts your head back until you’re looking up into his eyes. You can feel the stares of the couples around you, but you remind yourself that those stares are exactly why you’re doing what you’re both doing right now.

Bucky’s eyes dart from your eyes down to your lips. Your fucking lips. God, he wants to kiss you. He remembers how sweet your mouth tasted the first time you kissed him. Like he could ever forget that. He bites his bottom lip in restraint before leaning down and kissing your neck instead, licking and sucking along the curve of your jaw, making his way up to your ear.

“I think we’ve put on enough of a show, don’t you?” He asks softly, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his voice, hating that that he’s right. It’s time to make your way upstairs, which means that the touching and riling each other up is nearly over with. You nod your head, but Bucky doesn’t like that. He likes when you speak up and answer him. He likes hearing how breathy your voice sounds when you’re worked up like this. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Shit. You feel a wave of heat spreading from where his lips are against your ear all the way down to your cunt. You take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open and looking over his shoulder. You see plenty of people in the crowded room taking their turns staring at the two of you.

“I think so.” You say quietly, placing a shaky hand on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back gently. You turn on your heel, reaching back and taking his hand in yours, before leading the way to the back of the large, open living area.

“Nice work. You’re going to find the opening to a big hallway at the back of the room. It’ll be dark, you’ll go all the way to the end and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Jesus, this place is huge. Why anyone needs to a home with five floors to themself is beyond you. You reach the hallway quickly, and Bucky holds onto your hand firmly, letting you guide him. The hallway itself has to be at least fifty-feet long, but eventually you reach the elevator. Bucky steps forward, letting his front press against your back as he presses the button to call the elevator with his free hand, his other hand still clasped in yours. Instead of stepping away from you after pressing the button, he stays flush against you. You feel his free hand land on your hip and pull you against him with such a slight movement that it’s almost unnoticeable.

You immediately feel it. His hard cock pressing into your ass.

“There’s one camera in the elevator, so keep up the show.” Sam instructs, just as the elevator is arriving and the doors are sliding open in front of you. The lights inside are dim and the walls are a shiny metal, but not fully reflective. Before you have a chance to step in, Bucky is pushing you forward with the hold he has on your hip. He wastes no time in turning you around. It’s exciting, the way he can so easily move you and handle you. It’s as if it takes little effort or thought for him to do exactly what he wants with you. He walks you backward until your ass hits the wall, and then he looks down into your eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t move.” He says lowly, before stepping away and hitting the button to carry you both up to the fifth floor. As the doors close, he positions himself back against you, tugging on your hair and kissing your neck once more. You sigh as you secretly enjoy his touch, praying that he doesn’t realize just how real your heavy breathing and soft whimpers are. But Bucky knows they’re real. He’s heard you just like this before…whimpering, panting underneath him as he fucked his cock into you. It’s what’s driving him to leave marks all along your collarbone right now. It’s what has his cock so fucking hard that he worries his suit pants won’t survive the mission.

Temporarily forgetting that this is supposed to be an act, Bucky presses his hips into you, nibbling on your earlobe as you take in the feeling of his hard cock resting against your stomach.

“James…” You breathe his name out and he freezes. You feel his cock twitch in his pants and a devious smile plays on your lips. You’re so damn lucky that they let him use his real first name for this mission. You don’t know it yet, but you can have anything you want when you say his name like that. Any. Damn. Thing. He’s about to say fuck it and shove his tongue into your mouth when the elevator dings and the doors open to the fifth floor, revealing a dark home office. You push his chest lightly and he gets moving, turning around and leading the way out of the elevator.

“Security does a sweep of every floor once every ten minutes. If our timing is right, you should have about eight minutes to finish this. Just plug the device into the laptop and leave it for three minutes. It has to be plugged in for at least three minutes to complete the download. Then you’re all clear and you guys can get out of there.” Torres reminds you both through your in-ears. Bucky makes a beeline for the desk at the far back wall of the room, reaching in his pocket for the device and quickly finding the USB port of the laptop. He plugs it in and it lights up with a pale green glow as the intel begins downloading. You both stand there in silence, watching the device as if that will make it download any faster. After about thirty seconds, Sam speaks up again, a slight panic rising in his tone.

“You’ve got company in thirty seconds, security decided to sweep early.”

“Shit.” You mumble, your mind suddenly moving at a hundred miles an hour. Bucky turns to you and meets your gaze, and you immediately know that you’re on the same wavelength. You reach beneath the hem of your dress, tugging your black panties down and holding onto the edge of the desk as you quickly step out of them. You drape them over the device to cover up the green glow of the light, and then turn to face Bucky.

“Sit on the edge of the desk.” He tells you in a hushed tone, as his eyes dart to the fabric of your panties beside the laptop. You find yourself listening without second-guessing his demand. He steps in between your legs and you can hear the whirring of the elevator as it’s called down to one of the lower floors, likely to pick up the security guards that will be sweeping the office any minute now. You’re running out of time. Bucky begins loosening his tie around his neck, and then unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt in record time, as you reach your hands out and begin unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much more than he should. When you unzip his pants, you nearly moan at the way you see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. You only get a peek though, because you don’t push his pants down even a little bit. Bucky looks you over quickly as he deftly slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and you both know exactly what you need to do. You lay back on the desk and he pulls your thighs around his hips, leaving your dress in place so you’re still fully covered. Suddenly, you feel his clothed, hard cock pushing against your bare clit and you unintentionally arch your back off the cold desk, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall closed. Anyone seeing this on the SHIELD surveillance footage right now would think that you’re just really good at your job, really good at faking things undercover. Only Bucky knows that he just drew real pleasure from you.

“Get loud for me, we have to sell it.” He encourages you, bucking his hips into yours and leaving one hand on your right thigh while his other hand wraps gently around your throat.

“Fuck, James.” You moan loudly, hoping the security guards can already hear you from the elevator shaft. “Right there, baby, oh my god.” This earns a loud groan from Bucky and his grip on your thigh tightens so much that you think you might be left with a bruise in the shape of his hand. The friction of him rutting against you like this is so fucking good that you let out another very real moan right as the elevator dings and the doors slide open behind Bucky. You both pretend not to notice them, trying to give the device more time to do its job. Bucky continues to mimic the actions of a guy slamming his cock into his girl, moans falling from your lips and perfectly timed grunts mixed in with dirty praises falling from his.

“Hey!” A deep voice yells out, and you both gasp for show. You push yourself up on your elbows and look over Bucky’s shoulder. He keeps his body firmly planted where it is to shield you from the men who stand by the elevator. He’d be damned if he’d let them see you this way. “You two can’t be up here.” The man’s voice is serious and authoritative, but his security guard buddy has an amused smile on his face.

“Oh my god, James, you said we wouldn’t get caught.” Your voice is full of fake embarrassment as you cover your face with one hand. He laughs before looking over his shoulder at the guards.

“Just thirty more seconds.” Sam calls out.

“I’d apologize but I’m really not sorry about this.” Bucky says to the two guards, making the amused one laugh and the authoritative one shoot his partner a warning glance. “Can we just have a few seconds to get ourselves together?” Bucky asks kindly, tilting his head in your direction as if to remind them that you’re a lady. The security guards are silent for a second, assessing the situation and scanning the rest of the office for anything in disarray besides the two of you.

“You have thirty seconds to situate yourselves and get in the elevator.” The first guard barks, turning around to face away from you and gesturing for his buddy to do the same. Bucky steps back from you and you lower yourself to the floor, pulling your dress down and sliding the straps back onto your shoulders. Bucky quickly fixes his pants and belt before moving on to his tie and shirt buttons. You smooth down your hair a bit, leaving it at least a little messy for evidence.

“Got it, you’re good to go.” Sam gives the all clear to remove the device.

Bucky smirks at you and as the guards turn back around to face the both of you, he leans in close, reaching past you to grab your panties off of the desk. He skillfully grips the device within them, pulling it out of the laptop and shoving both the panties and device into his suit jacket pocket, making sure the guards witness his move.

“Alright you two, time to head out.” One of the guards calls out, waving you toward the elevator. Bucky takes your hand in his and leads the way, the cocky smile that you’ve become so familiar with never leaving his lips.

Though the guards would’ve allowed you to stay at the gala, it only made sense for you to leave, acting like you were heading out early to finish what you started in the home office upstairs. Bucky stands behind you, peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck while you wait for the valet to bring your car around. As the car comes into view, he cheekily slides his hand from your hip down to the slit in your dress, tracing the triangular outline with his index finger. You have to tell yourself a million times that this is just part of the job.

---

Of course, the mission couldn’t possibly go fully according to plan. Do they ever? When Bucky began to drive you both back to the compound, you soon realized that you were being tailed. Sam was quick to direct you to a hotel, arranging to have a team of SHIELD operatives nearby for protection in case of any kind of ambush. You were sure that the guards didn’t see the device, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t want to check you out and make sure you were really just some lusty young couple.

That’s how you ended up where you are now: laying on your stomach, still in your dress and heels, on a very comfortable luxury bed while Bucky showers. You have to fight the dirty thoughts flooding your mind, which is really fucking hard to do when the man that you want to do dirty things with is naked just a few feet away in the bathroom. Forcing your mind to stay empty leads to you drifting off to sleep as you wait for him to finish showering so you can have your turn.

You’re startled out of your extremely light slumber by the feel of Bucky’s hands on one of your ankles. You realize that he’s undoing the straps of your heels as you lay on the bed.

�� “Do you have the device still?” You mumble the question, not moving from your position or trying to stop his movements.

“Mhm, I have your panties too.” He answers, sounding so pleased with himself. You think about kicking him, you could easily do it in the position that you’re currently in, but you’re secretly really glad that he’s taking your heels off for you so you let his teasing slide.

“Yeah, that was a nice move back there, grabbing them and the device the way you did.” He hmms in response, taking off your second heel and setting them both on the floor at the foot of the bed. You feel his hand softly pat the side of one of your thighs before he steps away from the bed and sits in the chair by the window. You roll onto your back and push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back on your hands. You don’t know what you expected him to be wearing, but it sure as hell wasn’t only his boxers.

“Like what you see?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and flashing you a suggestive smile. He’s relaxed in the chair, a bit slouched with his arms on the arm rests and his legs spread apart. You do like what you see, but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud. You roll your eyes and push yourself off of the bed, dragging yourself into the bathroom where you find his suit jacket laid across the counter. You reach into the right pocket and pull out your panties.

“They were wet.” He calls out, his voice carrying above the noise of the running water as you turn on the shower. You step back out of the bathroom and make eye contact with him, narrowing your eyes.

“What?”

“Your panties, they were wet.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heating up and for a moment, you’re embarrassed. Meanwhile, he’s basically beaming with pride. Fuck him. Why are you even embarrassed? He was rock hard, that’s no different than you being wet. You let out a deep sigh and start sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes follow the movement of your hands and his smug smile falters when he realizes you’re not going back into the bathroom to undress. Honestly, you’re getting sick of this game.

“And your dick was hard.” You retort, staring at him. He shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant, but his gaze is still trained on your now bare shoulders.

“Occupational hazard.” He says calmly. He’s such a fucking ass.

“So, now that the job is over, you’re not hard anymore, right?” You question, letting your eyes travel down his tanned, muscular torso and settle on his lap, where he's most definitely still hard. He doesn’t respond but continues staring at you. For once, you’ve shut him up. His silence gives you a newfound boldness, and you start sauntering over to him. You see him stiffen in the chair and a small giggle leaves your lips. God, you’re so fucking pretty and you sound so innocent when you laugh like that. It almost makes him forget about the ways you let him destroy your body a few nights ago. Almost.

Next Part

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