#I remember when winter soldier came out and everyone giggled about Star Wars being on Steve’s list

[mrs-jamesbbarnes]

We all laughed about the Peter Parker Star Wars references because of Nick Fury but they got 1000x funnier with Harrison Ford joining the MCU. Before we could brush it off as prequels not existing but now there’s literally no brushing it off. 😂

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

When Grass Was Green and Grain So Yellow

Part 4 of Try to Remember

Bucky X teacher!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of first date with James.

A/N: I had to have a cliff hanger last time. I just had to do it. So we’re going to say that Bucky’s identity is pretty well known, but like you just don’t care. Bucky’s favorite things are solely from my brain because the research was inconclusive and everyone has differing opinions, so if you don’t like them, it’s fine.

Warnings: Make Out Session, angst, mentions of trauma.

Word Count: 1,560

James sat quietly his posture stiffening. You could feel his muscles tense as you glanced down at your hands, lacing them together before setting them in your lap. His breathing shallow as he waited for you to speak. You took a deep breath. If he was who your roommate thought he was, he could kill you in an instant. You could utter the words and he could have you dead before you finished the sentence. But if he’s such a killer, why is he out in public with you? Your mind was waging war with itself. An awkward silence had fell over the two of you. You could sense a coil of tension tightening in the small space between the two of you. You took a deep breath.

Then your eyes met his grey eyes and you asked. “Are you the Winter Soldier?”

His posture remained tense as he started to chew on his bottom lip. An empty chuckle fell from his lips. “Doll, you didn’t know when I asked you out?”

You were silent for a moment. “I…..”

He glanced down at you, his brows furrowed. “You really didn’t know? Doll, my face was blasted everywhere as a war criminal, I was on every news station for months. How did you miss it?”

It was your turn to start chewing on your bottom lip. “I guess it didn’t matter. Because you were just a guy who I had coffee with and walked me home.”

His eyes softened, his arm still around you. He sighed as he began to speak, “I was the Winter Soldier. He’s not a part of me anymore, at least, most of the time. He’s not active. I won’t lie to you, there have been regressions, but my friends are able to keep me grounded. They bring me back. Anything else you want to know?”

You remained quiet, truly surprised that he would be so open with this information. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you date this first date experience?” You asked.

He let out a full blown laugh at this. His shoulders shaking as he continued to laugh, you joined in. “Doll, you’re full of surprises. I’d say a solid eight.”

You pulled away from him, causing panic to rise in his eyes. “Just an eight, not a ten?” You asked, mock insult in your tone.

“Well, one thing would make it a ten.” He murmured.

You leaned towards him, “And just what would that be?”

His other hand reached up, pulling your face closer to his, he gently pressed his lips to yours. Your hand threaded into his hair as you deepened the kiss, you could feel emotions rolling off him. No doubt the previous conversation about his identity was far from finished, but you fell into this moment. Head first. In this moment you were just a couple of people on a park bench. The knowledge you now possessed far in the back your brain.  Your heart beating in your chest as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he pulled away. His forehead pressed to yours, “Now, I’d say ten.”

A blush crept up your neck as he pulled away, reaching up to grasp your hand that had been in his hair. “I know you probably have more questions. I promise to answer them as best I can.”

You glanced at your hands, threaded together. “For today, let’s just be two people, who met in a coffee shop and went on a ten out of ten date.”

He let out a laugh. “Alright, doll, whatever you say.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he called you doll. Something about it falling from his lips sounded right. The two of you remained on that park bench until the sky started to become shades of orange and pink. Your conversation had melded into a game of twenty questions. You learned his favorite color was blue. He loved his best friend fiercely, but also wanted to throttle him on the daily. He lived with all the Avengers, Tony was as much a personality in real life as he was in the media. He occasionally got confused by pop culture references and other modern things, but his time as the Soldier had exposed him to some technology. He still enjoyed music from when he grew up, which led to him being teased for being an old man. He loved the city, even if it wasn’t the same as the one he grew up in. He loved walking into places that still remained from his past, the ones that hadn’t changed. It was a moment frozen in time, much like he had been for years.

He asked about your job, curious about teaching in the current world. You told him of the joys that came with students finally getting the concepts. Sending beginners home with instruments for the first time and hearing the horror stories from home. Of how difficult it could be at times, because you often cared too much. You were fierce in advocating for your kids, they were your kids and they deserved the best. The world was difficult for the arts, people didn’t go to live concerts like they used to. People didn’t dance to bands, they danced to DJs. Professions in the arts were looked down on. But that didn’t diminish your love for it. You had worried you were boring him, but he urged you to continue.

Lamplight started to ignite the surrounding area, a glow settling on his face. He glanced up at the sky. “It’s weird, you used to be able to barely see the stars. Sure, it’s still difficult, but the haze isn’t there anymore.”

You giggled at that. “So, Mr. Barnes, are you going to escort a lady home?”

He looked down at you, “I suppose, the city’s dangerous at night.”

“And a superhero seems like good company.” You answered, standing up from the bench, pulling him with you by the hand. You pulled your phone out and set up an Uber to drive you home. Walking at night, even with a super soldier, halfway across the city didn’t seem like a plan. You waited for the car to pull up. James asking questions about Uber, “I’ve heard about it, but I don’t like to ask the guys about things. They’re intolerable about things like that.”  You stepped into the car with James behind you. It was a quiet ride, watching the lights of the buildings pass by. The car stopped outside your apartment, you thanked the driver and James followed you out of the car. He walked up to the door with you, his hand settled on the small of your back.

You reached for your keys and turned to him.”I had a great time today.”

“Me too.” He murmured. His hand leaving your back and moving to the back of his neck. “So, would you be up for another date sometime?”

“You have my number.” You answered, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Have a good night, James.”

He stood at the doorway for a moment after you entered the building. He made his way down the stairs to the street. He walked the whole way back to the tower, a spring in his step. He entered the common area to find Bruce, Tony, Steve, and Sam all seated on the couch facing the entrance.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” Tony stated dramatically. “It appears that today you were out with a woman, a woman none of us know. Who you failed to inform us of. You ditched Tweedledum and Tweeldledee.”

James rolled his eyes. Bruce mouthed a sorry in his direction. “Didn’t realize I needed chaperones for a date with a teacher.”

“Ooooh, he’s hot for teacher.” Sam said, nudging Steve, who looked pained, and not from the nudge.

“Didn’t you think at least to do a background check Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky sighed, “Can’t a guy just meet a girl and go out?”

“Not when the guy is a super solder whose brain was fried for years by HYDRA. Who has hits put on him by HYDRA cells that still remain active.” Tony ranted, Bruce put a hand on his shoulder to cut him off. “What, it’s the truth?”

“Just because it’s the truth doesn’t mean you can just strip him of his normalcy.” Bruce countered. “He’s not an unruly sixteen year old.”

“Well he acts like it,” Tony pouted.

“As do you.” Bruce muttered, shaking his head.

“There’s still the concern about your safety with everything HYDRA has done in the past.” Steve interrupted the two men who were bickering on the couch.

“And I know that, that’s why I ran a background check.” James answered quietly.

The room remained quiet. “You ran a background check on her?” Steve asked, a bit surprised.

James shuffled his feet. “I just….. I wanted to be sure.”

Tony remained silent for a moment. “So why didn’t you tell us?”

“Nothing came up for her. There wasn’t a reason to be concerned.” James answered, avoiding eye contact with the others.

“So, how was the date?” Sam asked, diffusing the tension in the room, at least for the time being.

“It was really good.” James answered, a smile growing across his face. A flush settling in on the top of his cheeks.

[wintersxsoul]

Come Back To Me

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, memoy loss, mentions of torture.

A/N: This was highly inspired in the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but I hanged the ending a bit. Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @all1e23 for putting up with my bullshit since I started writing this piece. Italic paragraphs are memories/flashbacks.

Before you, all Bucky Barnes knew was darkness, pain, a hollow chest with a broken beating heart. You appeared like flowers bloom in Spring, taking away the remnants of Winter, giving color and life to a grey world. He thought it would be impossible for someone like him to even talk to someone like you, but as always, fate had its own plans.

There were a few Hydra bases left but The Avengers needed help to locate them since the only clue they had was written in Ancient Greek. Natasha knew Latin but after a few days trying to translate, they knew they would need a professional.

That’s how you ended up in a meeting room with The Avengers. You were one of the best translators in the world, you knew more than 15 languages, written and spoken, you had four Ph.D. in History, Mythology, Literature and Art. After a few months working for them they eliminated almost all Hydra bases. You had to leave New York to do a Mythology seminar in London for two weeks, so you forgot about everything about the team and focused on your work.

In the four months you stayed with The Avengers, Bucky Barnes struggled with his feelings towards you because he had fallen in love hard and fast, so when he heard that you would be gone, his heart shattered. You both were oblivious to the feelings you had for the other, making it a bit harder for you two to communicate.

“Steve, I can’t go. I just can’t.” Bucky told his best friend, who just assigned him to go on a little trip to London. Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, Buck. You are the only one on the team available, so I’m sorry, but it’s vital for you to go.”

So that’s how he ended up in one of your conferences, sitting at the back of the room, taking in all the information you were throwing at the audience. The passion and professionalism with which you spoke had his heart beating rapidly on his chest. Your whole face lit up when you saw his large figure and his blue eyes watching you, your knees almost failing you when you paced around the stage. You paused the talk for a 10 minute break and honestly, to gather yourself. Bucky almost ran down the stairs to meet you, engulfing you in a tight hug, his scent filling all your senses.

“Not that I am not happy to see you but, what are you doing here?” You tilted your head and placed a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. He smiled sweetly and explained that they needed you once more for a top secret mission he didn’t even know about.

“As much as I would love to help, I have to attend two more conferences in the following days, so I can’t go today.”

“Uhm, I...I checked your schedule and informed the team. So I’ll be staying around until you are done, if that’s okay.” You really tried not to show any kind of excitement but failed miserably. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Bucky attending your talks and after decades doing this, you felt nervous.

Bucky thought it was impossible to fall in love with you even more, but he was wrong. You started explaining the myth of Eros and Psyche, your eyes never leaving his. If your Oratory teacher saw you right now, she would be kicking you for being so unprofessional, but you really couldn’t care less.

The myth of Eros and Psyche is probably one of the best love stories in classical mythology. Eros, son of Aphrodite, was the personification of intense love desire and he was depicted throwing arrows to people in order to hit their heart and make them fall in love. Psyche, a beautiful maiden, personifies the human soul. In fact, she is the symbol of the soul purified by passions and misfortunes and who is, from now on, prepared to enjoy eternal happiness. In the love story of Eros (Cupid in Latin) and Psyche (meaning "soul" in Greek), we can see the perseverance of a man even when he is possessed by passion and the effort of a woman to overcome many obstacles in order to achieve the happiness of love.

Bucky’s eyes gleamed under the dim light of the room, and you accidentally smiled at him. He moved to the front rows so he could be closer to you, so know the whole audience knew you were probably ignoring them and just spoke to that single person you were smiling to.

When you finished explaining the whole myth, you saw a few hands rising to ask questions, and you felt pride bubble in your chest because that meant they were interested and not bored to death.

“So how did Psyche lived forever?”

“Well, Zeus decided to give her the Ambrosia, the food of the gods, so she could be immortal.”

After answering a few more questions, you saw a shy gloved hand and you shivered, not expecting him to participate at all.

“I would like to ask what this myth actually represents and what it means to you, ma’am.” Your shaky hands grabbed the glass of water that sat on the small table and drank a bit to ease your nerves. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“The interpretation I gave was the true connection of the soul and love. Eros and Psyche are the proof that everyone has a soul and is capable of love, even the darkest soul.”

Everyone started clapping when you finished, your smile only growing wider when Bucky looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

-

“You can’t tell me what this secret mission is about?” You heard Bucky sigh loudly when you approached the table he was sitting at, waiting for you. He had asked you out to have dinner and since you were staying at the same hotel, you thought it would be a good idea.

“Okay, punk. Whatever, I gotta go.” He hung up and smiled at you, his eyes roaming your figure. You were wearing your favorite dress, the soft golden silk hugging your curves amazingly. You sat rapidly, tripping on the chair and almost falling. You giggled nervously and Bucky just smiled at you, his nerves eating him alive.

“Is the dress too much?” Bucky shook his head rapidly and cleared his throat, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“No, you look beautiful.” You smiled shyly and he added “I mean, you always look beautiful, but now...there are no words to describe how you look.”

You spent the whole evening exchanging information about the other, asking questions back and forth. He asked about your childhood, the pressure of being a prodigy child and being the daughter of a genius, the lack of a normal teenage life since you entered college at 13, the disastrous first and only relationship and travelling around the world alone. Bucky shared the bits he remembered of his childhood, his academic records, war and his time being the Winter Soldier. You, of course, were dying to interview him for professional purposes since you were currently working on a book about the ending of WW2 and the Cold War.

At the end of the night, he kissed you at the door of your room and before he could turn to leave, you pushed him in your room, kissing him like it was your last day on this world.

He caressed your naked skin slowly, taking his time exploring every inch of your body, kissing and worshipping you like the goddess he believed you were. You kissed him as adoringly in return, running your hands all over body, feeling every muscle and scar, loving every inch of what Bucky Barnes was.

You were stroking his hair softly, his head pressed on your chest, your heartbeat soothing all his doubts and in a moment of pure bliss and realization, he said those three words.

“I adore you.” Your fingers froze and your breath hitched, a deep warmth spreading all over you.

“Y/n?” You realized you’d been silent for far too long so his heart started beating rapidly, the thought of you rejecting him starting to cloud his mind.

“I love you.” You said softly and he turned to face you, his expression full of love and adoration just for you. He kissed you and made love to you again, the feeling of your bodies together was like a drug to him and you were more than happy to give it to him, surrendering completely to him and him to you.

When you both got back to New York, Bucky discovered that there was no mission. Steve plotted with the whole team for you two to stop with your mutual pining and realize your feelings, his smug face pissing Bucky off.

“I told you a long ago to tell her, Barnes.” Nat added, rolling her eyes and elbowing him jokingly. You just smiled at your friends and thanked them, because without them none of that would’ve happened.

-

Everything was dark and cold, the thick leather straps that held your body tight to the metal chair making your skin raw. Your head was spinning, the immense pain you were feeling was blocking all the physical pain your wounds were causing. What did they do to you?

You were unconscious most of the time, but you knew they were doing something, changing something in your body, in your mind. Your loud screams numbed all the voices surrounding you but you still caught glimpses of conversations in Russian.

“He will come to get her, our mole knows how much she means to the Soldat.”

“It’s been a week already, and we haven’t heard nothing. What if she is the wrong woman?”

“It can’t be, I saw them together while following the Asset, it’s her.”

You tried to move or speak, but all it came out of your mouth was a low whine. You tried to open your eyes, your heavy lids making it hard. Everything hurt, stung, your skin felt like it had been burnt over and over again.

“Is she ready?” A thick voice asked loudly and you felt deeply terrified. Ready for what? What have they done to you?

“Well, unstrap her and prep her, he won’t take much longer.” You wanted to scream, to run, to try to fight your way out, but you couldn’t move.

“Tony, we need to find Y/N. Bucky is going insane and I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold him back much longer.” Steve found your location that exact morning, after a week of your disappearance. Apparently, you were in one of Hydra’s last bases in Siberia, one that was unknown for everyone, even for Bucky. Tony just nodded and looked at the files.

“Gear up, we’re getting our girl back.”

But it was too late, Bucky hacked the database, something Tony would be pissed off about, and got the location before Steve could even talk to him. He knew it was reckless to leave on his own, but he just couldn’t wait any longer to get you, to save you from Hydra’s claws.

Bucky Barnes was himself, but he also was the Winter Soldier, all that violence and cold blood was in him still, would always be. He was ready to enter hell for you, even if that meant never getting back home.

The morning light was bathing his room, hitting your skin and making it glow. You were smiling at him tiredly, your eyes full of adoration for him. Bucky leaned in to press his forehead to yours, chuckling lightly when you licked the tip of his nose. He narrowed his eyes jokingly and you started squealing when he pressed his hands in the most ticklish spots on your body.

Breathlessly, you sat down, still laughing and managed to speak.

“I hate you.” You pressed your hand to your belly trying to ease your laughter. Bucky tilted his head, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“You know, you were never a good liar.” You pressed your hand to your chest and looked at him, fakingly offended. He shook his head chuckling and kissed you, pressing your body to the mattress.

You jolted awake, drenched in sweat and dust, the memory making your whole body tremble, silent tears streaming down your face. You scanned the room you were at, and realized you weren’t strapped to that metal chair. Everything was awfully quiet and there was no one around. You stood up but your legs failed you, making you hit the stone cold floor, scraping your knees and palms. You reached for the makeshift bed and help yourself to stand up and once you gathered enough strength to walk, you got out of the room you were at.

Bucky was beating the last Hydra agent alive, trying to get any kind of information out of him. He laughed maniacally and spit blood to the floor.

“Hydra needed someone like her, but she was too damn stubborn to cooperate. So we fixed her.” A metal fist hit his stomach, probably breaking some organ. The agent coughed blood but kept talking.

“If we can’t have either of you, you won’t either.” Bucky could feel his bile rising at the thought of what you’d suffered while he was failing at rescuing you earlier.

“What did you do to her?” The agent smiled, clearly in pain.

“Nothing that cannot be reversed. All we need is for you to control yourself, to be compliant.” Bucky pressed his metal hand in his neck and squeezed hard enough to hurt him but not to kill him. Not yet. He pressed his body to the closest wall and held the agent against it.

“Tell me what you did to her.” Bucky muttered, the blinding rage surging throughout all his pores.

“You remember your shut down word, soldat?” Sputnik. That was the word they used when they needed to shut him down before cryo. Bucky nodded and squeezed a little tighter.

“Well, we implanted that on her, but the effects being worse.” Bucky’s eyes widened, knowing the way to implant something like that deep in your mind.

Before Bucky could say something, the agent spoke again.

“We thought it was too cruel even for us, so you have 24 hours to keep her safe forever. But if you say the trigger words before the time’s up, she will be gone for good.” He smirked wickedly and Bucky squeezed harder, until he heard the neck break.

24 hours. He had 24 hours left.

“Come on, say it.” Bucky shook his head, too afraid to say those three meaningful words. You smiled at him but deep down it hurt you, it hurt that he couldn’t say them.

“You know I do, why do you need to hear me say it?”

“Because it becomes real for me.”

“I can’t say them, not yet.” Bucky’s expression fell but you just shrugged and added a “whatever” with a smile, trying to convince him that you were fine with it.

“Whenever you are ready, I will be here waiting for you to say it.” You kissed him, smiling into the kiss, feeling his tears mixing with your lips.

You heard screams and a familiar voice, so you ran like hell, your body working on its own, your mind racing with thoughts of you and Bucky. You were close to him, you could feel it in your bones, and when you entered the training room, there he was.

Bucky’s eyes widened, taking you in. You were okay. He sighed relieved and moved towards you while you did the same, meeting him in the middle. You gasped when your arms finally touched his body, the sensation of finally being safe and home wrapping you. He pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, needing to check it was really you.

He held your hand and lead you to the Quinjet, you were finally going home.

“Buck?” Your mouth suddenly let out, and you frowned because you had nothing to say. He hummed, waiting for you to continue.

“I love you.” You started to cry uncontrollably, the sobbs getting louder and louder. Bucky pressed the autopilot button and moved to where you were, kneeling in front of you. He placed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at you sweetly, all his worries finally leaving him. You were safe, nothing had happened. It was all probably a bluff.

“I adore you.” He told you and you frowned again, because you felt like something was controlling you, was controlling your thoughts and words.

“Say it. I need you to say it, please.” You begged him, crying. He loved you, he had always known that, but he needed time to admit that to himself before being able to tell you. After everything that happened, he knew he was ready, and seeing you so heartbroken made him brave.

“I love you, Y/n.” He pressed his hand to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Something inside you clicked, and you smiled at him. You leaned in to kiss him, the tears already gone.

“I love you, Buck. I love you.” You laid down on the seats and closed your eyes, sighing contently. He finally said it.

“I’m very tired, please wake me when we arrive.” You opened an eye to look at him and after him nodding and kissing your temple, you closed your eyes, the tiredness taking over your body.

As soon as Bucky landed the jet, he glanced at your sleeping form and smiled, you were finally home and safe. Everyone was waiting for you to arrive at the hangar, impatiently and some of them even pissed. Bucky made a reckless move that could’ve endangered the two of you, but he knew he would succeed, just for the sake of your safety.

Bucky kneeled in front of you and stroked your head lightly, whispering softly for you to wake up, but when you didn’t even move, he started freaking out.

“We gave to subject Z10 strong doses of Apomorphine enough to kill a healthy adult, electroshock therapy for hours and we’ve succeeded to implant trigger words, stronger than the ones implanted in our first subject, The Winter Soldier.”

“Subject Z10 will be compromised as soon as the trigger words reach her hippocampus, blocking the NEK7 protein, forgetting all that is strongly attached to said words. Subject will never be able to recover those memories, but effects can be reversed if there’s no usage of the words implanted in the following 24 hours.”

“Y/n?” You slowly opened your eyes and Bucky sighed relieved but as soon as he saw your eyes, he gasped. You frowned and sat up fastly, looking frantically around you.

“Who...who are you? What am I doing here?” You cried out, confused and scared. The man in front of you retreated fastly and you could see he had a metal arm. You shivered, frightened.

“Y/n, it’s me, Buck.” He said with a deep sorrow, his eyes shining with unshed tears. You snapped your head towards the door of the jet you were at, two new faces approaching you. The man was bulky and tall, blond hair and blue eyes. The woman was small but seemed strong, a redhead with fierce green eyes. They both looked familiar but you couldn’t place them.

“Buck, what’s going on?” The tall guy asked, stepping in front of Bucky so you couldn’t see him.

“Steve, She...I- I was warned but I still used the trigger words.” Bucky cried, his knees giving up, making him fall to the floor, his body collapsing to the wall. Steve kneeled and hugged Bucky, holding his head to his chest.

“Y/n, my name is Natasha. I’ll take you to our medical bay so they can run some tests, okay?” You looked at your body and you could see a few ugly bruises and you immediately looked at the man with the metal arm. Natasha shook her head, already knowing what you were thinking.

“He would never lay a hand on you, he saved you from who did that to you.” You nodded and followed her out and into the huge building.

“Buck, if you had to choose, would you prefer to lose your memory and not being able to remember me, or me dying but keeping all of our memories?” You smiled when you saw Bucky’s eyes widening, a deep frown seated on his forehead.

“I cannot choose, both of them are the worst things that could happen to me.” You giggled and held his hand, caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

“I know, but if you had to, what would you choose?”

“Forgetting you. Life has its funny ways so maybe we could find each other again. And you?” You frowned now and placed your head on his shoulder, his scent reaching your senses.

“I had my ideas clear, but after your reasoning, I don’t know.” Bucky chuckled, his whole body vibrating, making you laugh as well.

“You would prefer for me to die but remembering me, right?” You nodded, embarrassed because you didn’t reason as he did. He bumped his nose with yours and smiled, his lips brushing yours lightly, waiting for you to kiss him.

It had been weeks since you left after Shuri ran those tests. She was able to recover your memories of the team, but Bucky was totally erased from your mind. You knew who he was, but because he was Steve’s best friend and the ex-assassin, The Winter Soldier. You were a bit shaken off after you said your goodbyes, but Bucky was totally devastated.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” A sob escaped his trembling lips, hot tears running down his cheeks. His eyes looked dead, all the light that Bucky used to be, gone. “I hope we...I hope we can find eachother again.” You frowned, not understanding what he meant, but when you felt your cheeks wet, you realized something was off, but you couldn’t place it.

“This was never meant to happen, I should’ve died. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what he meant at all, but your heart was aching, the man in front of you was grieving and all you could do was frown, not remembering him at all. You approached his trembling figure and hugged him, trying to bring comfort, a basic human touch.

“Thank you for saving me, James.” And like that, you left, taking with you Bucky’s heart and soul.

“May we meet again.” He whispered, hopelessly.

[geminimoonbeamx]

I'm Not Your Toy

A/N: So I’m finally getting through my asks! This one was a request for an insecure reader and an over zealous flirty Bucky. I love writing him like this! So I got carried away and suddenly this was almost five thousand words so I’m going to have to split it into a two parter! Ugh, charming Bucky. You do things to my heart

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: A disgusting amount of pining, sailor like cursing, maybe triggering self doubt and insecurity, pretty SFW…for now.

Summary: You’d supported Steve and his decision to not kill Bucky. Fuck, you even supported Steve when he’d literally started a war over Bucky. Done jail time for him. But you what you couldn’t manage to do for the life of you, for the love of Steve, was get along with Bucky. Especially when he managed to make you blush every time you were in the same room as the man

💛💛💛💛

James Barnes drove you absolutely crazy.

And not in the way that he drove most to madness. You knew that both he and Steve( And Sam, Tony, Thor and the rest of the guys on the team) had their fan clubs. You’d nearly coughed up a lung when you’d found that Tumblr page dedicated to “Daddy Clint: A daddy and a father”. You could still clearly recall Wada choking on her cup of soda when you’d shoved your phone in her face. Women loved celebrities, fuck it was in human nature to admire what you saw on TV’s and movie screens. And who didn’t love a superhero? Pst, everyone did.

At first, when Bucky had first come to live in the Tower with Steve after the reconciliation of “the time period that shall not be named” (the Sokovian Accords), he’d been stoic. Keeping mostly to himself, coming and going from therapy to the gym. Building himself up from the ground, with Steve as his foundation. Because Steve was the only thing he really knew.

And where there was Steve, there was you. The two of you had become more then close over the years of Avenging together. It had happened so…naturally. You couldn’t even remember when your friendship had even really begun. He just seemed so…lonely. And you couldn’t understand why no one else honed in on it the way you did. It gnawed you so much, you couldn’t help but butt in. Talk to him, be there for him. You’d helped him master the internet. You’d made a decent dent in that list of that he kept in his little journal; when you’d seen that Star Wars was on it you’d squealed and the two of you had spend an entire day curled up watching all seven of them. You’d been the one to encourage him to go the VA when he’d first met Sam, helped him decorate that apartment he’d had for a while. Followed him into battle over and over.

Steve had become your best friend. And you his. He wasn’t the Captain to you. He was Steve, you could lay on and watch draw for hours and who was way more sassy then anyone gave him credit for.

But- you weren’t his only best friend. You’d been there, when he’d discovered that Bucky was alive. You’d gotten your fair share of the Winter Soldier during that whole take down of S.H.I.E.L.D. You had the crook in your neck to this day as a reminder. Even though you agreed with Sam, that some people you just couldn’t save, you’d supported Steve and his decision to not kill Bucky. Fuck, you even supported Steve when he’d literally started a war over Bucky. Spent jail time for him.

But you what you couldn’t manage to do for the life of you, for the love of Steve, was get along with Bucky.

You tried, by god you know you did. First, you’d attempted to be warm to him, to get him to warm up to you. He would only acknowledge you with nods and gruffs. With one word answers and side ways looks. You didn’t take it too personally(that’s what you told yourself), you knew that he had been through seventy plus years of torture. He wasn’t going to turn into chatty Cathy over night. So you got used to him being push pop like frigid to you.

Until one day, after months of therapy, he wasn’t anymore.

He’d started to find himself again, surrounded by Tony’s top shrinks, the spark in his azure eyes came back…it happened to come back in his personality too. It started slow, him actually joining in on your and Steve’s teasing conversations. Putting his opinions, sharp ones. Funny ones. Looking at you straight in the eye with a confident quirk of his lips that you’d never seen.

And then it came all at once. Anoyone who spent a prolonged amount of time with the group had to be at least a little bit of a smart ass but the mouth on Bucky Barnes shocked you. Crude and dripping with 40’s charm. It was shocking, at first.

Now it just annoyed you.

Because some fucking how, you’d become the focal point of his affection.

You roll your eyes at the thought. It wasn’t affection. It was…attention. It was flirtation that made you squirm and blush. The blunt, outrageous kind. Where he’d compliment you(sometimes very raunchily) infront of everyone. It was mortifying. Not only because it got a rise out of the rest of the team but because you knew he didn’t mean it.

How could he?

When he’d regained a few puzzle pieces of himself, one of them happened to be his way with the ladies. And there was an abundance of them that would do just about anything to be seen with an Avenger. Even if he had been labeled an international terrorist only years before, you kept the bitter afterthought to yourself.

He never really dated any one, no he just flirted. With. Fucking. Everyone. He did it as easily as he breathed.

It was annoying and honestly a little insulting.

Especially when he did things like lean against the island in the kitchen, his biceps, both flesh and vibranium, flexing under the thin gym t-shirt as he complimented Natasha on her crazy fight skills.

“I like the way you move, Romanoff”

You literally couldn’t have scrunched your face harder at that moment as you grabbed a nectarine and tried to hurry away from the scene.

“Thanks Barnes. I’d return the compliment but your getting rusty, soldat” The redhead taunts and Bucky grins. It’s gross. Watching them flirt. Because they’re so perfect for each other. Beautiful and modelesque. You ignored the sinking in your stomach.

“Baby Doll, tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about” Bucky reached out and caught your waist as you tried to leave. He looked down at you with waggling eyebrows “You don’t think I’m getting rusty, do you?”

You frown and squirm away from his hand on your chubby waist “I don’t think about you at all, actually” You tell him before walking out of the large space.

Natasha full out, heartily laughs at the gob smacked expression on Bucky’s face.

Or what about when you walked around in your pajama shorts? You could never get by without a “You’ve got a gorgeous set of gams, doll. Anyone ever told you that?” You could literally feel his eyes burn holes into your thighs and it made you want to put on pants.

He could see the dimples from the cellulite. That’s what he had to be looking at. When Steve noticed that you were wearing pants a lot more he’d slapped Bucky on the back of the head and warned him to stop.

“Are you the sun? Cause your so beautiful it’s blinding me” that had earned him a little scowl.

“Your so cute it’s distracting, you know that, Sugar” You’d flat out walked away from him at that one.

“You look cold. You need me to warm you up?” He’d offered, genuinely but in that flirtatious voice as you stood in the frigid New York air. It was during one of Stark Industries many Fundraising Gala’s and you’d escaped out onto a balcony to get away from the politicians and socialites. You didn’t even care that the gown you wore was off the shoulder and it was twenty degrees outside.

“Thanks but no thanks” You grimace as you folded your arms over your chest, fighting shivers.

“C'mere, your shaking” He reaches out to you but you manage to shrug out of his grip and give him a warning look.

“Bucky”

“Y/N” He teases back in the same tone and you cant help but crack a smile. You let him give you his suit jacket, allowed him to drape it over your shoulders. Happy that his broad ones were much larger then yours. You’d never really been the small one in a relationship, always the big girl. The smart girl and defiantly the funny girl. But the big girl none the less. The fact that the fabric of his jacket was oversized and loose on you made your heart flutter.

“Holy fuck it’s clear out, the stars are you gorgeous tonight” You distract yourself, change the conversation as you stare up at the unusually clear starry night sky. Your breath coming out in little puffs of steam that clashed with the cool night air. Your eyes wide and trained above you.

Bucky feels his chest ache as he looks at you. His mouth feels dry and he licks his lips before he responds “They’ve got nothing on you”

You don’t react the way he wants you to. You don’t giggle and blush. You frown and look over at him, your eyes shrouded and almost hurt looking. It feels like he’s making fun of you, honestly.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” He’s confused. He really truly is.

“That. Flirt like that. It’s- It makes me uncomfortable” You huff, your bottom lip jutting out in a way that made him want to reach over and nip at it.

“Why? You like it?” He’s using a hellu'va lot of self control. He wants to kiss that pretty pout of yours so badly

“No. It makes me feel pretty shitty actually, because I know it’s bull, Bucky” It comes out in a white hot run on sentence “You don’t have to…do that with me. I mean there’s plenty of women here who would die to hear this shit coming out of your mouth. So stop…lying to me-”

“Lying to you? Y/N I’m-” You interrupt him by shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to him, almost robotically.

“It’s fine, Bucky. I’m going back inside”

“Hey, I think you’ve got the wrong-” But you, for what feels like the thousandth time, leave him standing there wondering what the hell he could have possibly said to make you react that way. He knows going after you would just make it worse. So instead he goes to find Steve, and ask him what the holy hell your problem with him was.

You kept your distance from him for the following weeks after that. Discreetly…or so you thought.

Bucky could feel you running every time he came close. You barley looked at him. You laughed, and pretended like everything was normal but he could feel the distance from you and it felt like a bullet hole. He would know, he’d endured plenty. But you icing him out…he thinks it feels more awful then anything he’s ever felt. An icepick like pain that had him reeling because even though Steve had explained to him that you had, had issues in past relationships, that you had one hell of a body dysmorphic complex, he couldn’t get how you didn’t believe he was sincere. In everything he had ever said to you.

It’s almost to a breaking point when most of the team is assigned to a mission. You and Bucky just so happen to be two of the people assigned, along with Steve, Sam, Nat, Tony and Bruce. It was supposed to be an in and out. If anyone could have guessed just how wrong everything would go, just how outnumbered you all would be-

You sigh.

But there were no rewinds in life. Not even with all of the technology- Alien and Human alike. Time didn’t do take backs.

Your limping, dragging yourself like dead weight into the Tower. Your honestly a little delirious, but isn’t everyone? The mission had been extremely taxing, and everyone that had been on it had taken a hell of a beating. Even Steve and Bucky- the genetically modified super soldiers looked like they had walked straight through hell. Tony collapses into a heap onto the couch once you reach one of the many common areas. Natasha and Steve were both on the med floor with Sam who had taken it the worst. The fall he’d taken after a Hydra agent had launched a missile at him had been gnarly. Luckily Bruce had been able to stabilize him back in the Quinjet.

You blanch at the thought, at the memory of Sam falling from the sky. At your legs working hard, burning from the strain, as you ran to him and found him so still- so…dead.

You cant think that. You wont. You lift your chin high, in an attempt to steady yourself and make a beeline for the elevator, wanting to get to your floor and wash off the grime. Wash off the fear and the gunpowder. Your so wrapped up in your self yourself you don’t notice Bucky’s hawk like gaze, his pale eyes that follow you all the way out of the room.

He winces when your out of sight. It physically hurts, for him to not be able to see you. After everything, after that mission, he just wanted to grab you. Hold you tight against him, never let you go. His heart had almost fallen out of his chest so many times during the duration of the assignment. He didn’t know if he could ever be paired with you again for work. He couldn’t focus, on anything else but you out in the field.

Where the fuck had all those years of learning to compartmentalize go? Right out of the fucking window when he saw you get shot at.

“Oh Elsa” Tony gives a little exaggerated sympathetic sigh from his place on the couch “You’ve got it so bad”

Bucky cant even deny it, there’s no use. So he just mumbles about going to check on Sam. Tony chuckles at him, at the way he looks like a kicked puppy but grips his ribs as the cackle agitates what he knows must be a fracture.

After what feels like hours in the scalding hot waterfall shower you pull on a pair of barley there stretchy black shorts and an oversized heather T-shirt that your pretty sure you’d stolen from Steve at one time. It’s always like this after a particularly hard mission, you feel…drained. Like there’s noting under the skin and bone. Hollow- and yet still in pain.

Because you’d gotten a nasty side graze by someone’s knife at one point during the fight. You couldn’t even remember getting it- but it stung like a bitch. You assessed it in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t too bad, it was big. Long and jagged. But not too deep. Plus it was on a meaty area of your body- your chubby love handles saving you from any major damage. You let out a humorless laugh and drop the shirt, grabbing a random bottle of pain pills that you’d acquired from another mission.

Battle wounds were nothing new.

Just another scar. Not like your body had ever, or would ever be perfect.

Whatever.

You’d swallowed the Percocet dry when you hear a knock on your door.

You figure it must be Steve. Or Nat. Or even Wanda. Coming to check on you. When you type into the key pad, opening it you cant fight the surprise.

Because it’s Bucky.

You can tell he’s just recently showered as well, his still wet hair is pulled into a little knot on the back of his neck and he’s dressed in a dark sweat suit, his feet bare.

“Hey?” Your voice wavers. You hadn’t really spoken to him much lately. He was the last person you’d expect to find on your door step.

“Hey” Bucky starts. It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound truly unsure in a long time “I thought I’d uh, swing by and make sure your doin’ alright”

You hadn’t even noticed he was holding a granola bar and a bottle of water in his hands until he holds it up, as kind of a white flag. You smile, sadly. Gratefully, as you take it.

“Thanks Buck, I really appreciate it”

“No problem at all. I figured ya’ might be hungry” He’s figuratively twiddling his thumbs as he speaks “I ate seven of those just a minute ago”

You laugh, even though your exhausted and hollow, he makes you laugh.

Bucky has never seen you look so…frail. Usually your bold and bright and now your pale and he doesn’t even know how your standing. His eyes trail down your body- and he only lets himself look because he’s trying to tally up all of your injuries. Every scrape and bruise- it just so happens that there’s a large blooming bruise on your right thigh. The plush flesh looks so- fuck he wants to grab it. He wants to grab you in his arms so bad.

The look in his eyes…scares you? Thrills you? God, it sets your nerves on fire because he’s never looked at you like this before. He looked at you a lot of ways, no doubt. But the way his steely eyes drink you in now is new.

“Have you been to the med bay yet?” Bucky knows you haven’t, so his brow is raised high.

“No, I’m fine” You wave him off, shaking your head. Your dripping hair swaying against your back.

“That bruise is nasty, Y/N. You should get it looked at” Bucky insists. You don’t know why he cares so much.

“I think they’ve got their hands busy, I’ll be fine. I’ve got my handy dandy pain killers” You try to not be affected by him or the pain in your side as he leans against the doorway. You can tell he’s not going away anytime soon. You don’t think you want him to. “Do you want to come in?”

Bucky answers embarrassingly quick.

“Yes! Uh- yeah. If that’s okay?”

Oh, the thrills this boy gives you. You hate them as much as you love them.

You just nod reassuringly and usher him in, the door electronically sliding shut behind him. You go over and take a careful seat on the edge of your bed, and he sits across from you on one of the accent chairs.

“Have you seen Sam, is he okay?” You toss out questions as you peel at the granola bar.

“He’s stable, they think he’s goin’ to be okay. Bunch'a broken bones, but his internal organs weren’t too shaken up. Bird brain got lucky…” Bucky trails off, giving one gruff laugh. For as much as he and Sam gave each other heaps of shit, they were close. He’d been worried- when the bird had been shot from the sky.

“I’m happy” You chew slowly, trying to absorb his words. “I really thought for a moment there-”

“I know. Me too”

That feels so good, hearing him say that. Me too. You weren’t alone. Bucky knows exactly how you feel, and at that moment in time, that’s all you needed.

Your phone chirps and your too fast as you go to grab it. The pained gasp that leaves your lips has Bucky’s head perking up. Of course him, with his enhanced hearing, had picked up on it.

Your hand flies to your side, because you know it’s reopened the scab. That more then likely your bleeding again.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine” You hiss through the sharp pain as you stand.

Oh shit that hurts. Bucky jumps to his feet and goes to you, his metal arm going to your shoulder, and his flesh to the small of your back. “Obviously not. Where are you hurt, show me”

“No!” You protest at his demand, half because who did he think he was? And half because it would be a cold day in hell before you lifted your shirt and let Bucky look at all your jiggly bits.

“Your bleeding through your shirt. Did you even dress it, Jesus” Bucky tries to angle you so that he can get a better look at where crimson has begin to poke through the gray Tee. “Just let me clean it up and bandage it”

“No, it’s fine. I can do it”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“Why are you so difficult? Fuck, just let me help you, okay? Your bleeding” He’s almost yelling this at you…though at the end of the sentence he’s begging. Because he knew he shouldn’t have let you out of his sight.

“I-I” You stutter. Your terrified. Of him. Of this. Of your body, and of him seeing your body.

“Please” Bucky’s voice is low and his eyes hold you captive.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, or yes. So you just nod, and let him lead you to the bathroom.

You’ve never felt so exposed, as you hold up your shirt, it fisting right under your breast as Bucky bends don so that he’s eye level with your wound and tends to it. He’s gentle, but nimble. His fingers working fast as he cleans and bandages. You can feel your heart thundering against your chest. Is he looking at your tummy? At the stretch marks?

“I can hear your heart beat, doll. Calm down” Bucky sooths with a small chuckle, not looking up from his work. He’s not looking at your tummy or your stretch marks…he’s looking at how smooth for skin appears. At how soft it feels under his finger tips… “I’m almost done”

He never wants to finish.

“Your actually really good at this”

“Yeah, I had a little trainin’ back durin’ the war” He tells you as he finishes up, securing the bandage “Nothin’ too extensive, but I know the basics”

“Good for you” He looks up at your wit and shakes his head. “That sounded ungrateful. I’m sorry”

“No, it’s okay” Bucky reassures, his fingers trailing over the edge of the bandage…he knows he shouldn’t…but he cant resist leaning his head in and pressing a soft kiss atop the bandage. Quick, just a peck really but your head spins. He looks up to make sure your not about to slap him.

You don’t look angry in the least. You look…awed. He wants to kiss up your stomach. Wants to kiss every inch of exposed skin…but instead he reaches up and grabs the hem of your shirt from your grip, and pulls it down before patting you hip and grinning at you. Your in a haze, at his touch. At the intimacy of it all. Even when your back seated on your bed, your still…not all the way there. Your in your head, your thoughts going wild.

You decide you want him. Lord, do you want him. No one had ever been so…tender with you. None of your ex’s had ever shown that level of gentleness with you. You lay back against your pillows and he shifts unsurely at his place, standing at the end of the bed.

“I could go?”

“Please stay” You plead. The thought of being alone makes your teeth clench “I don’t really want to be alone…do you?”

“Nah, Sugar. I don’t” Bucky could scream. He’d wanted nothing but this for months. He goes to sit back in the chair but you sit up and reach for him.

“Lay back, you mook!” Bucky urges, coming to your side of the bed to place a hand on your chest “You’ll reopen that cut”

“Can you…lay with me?” It’s a big bed, it wasn’t like you two would even really even have to touch. Even though all you wanted was for him to touch you.

Bucky must be dreaming. He must have gotten shot during that mission. Maybe he’s dead?

He doesn’t ask twice though, after searching your desperate eyes for any sign of doubt, he climbs onto the bed next to you.

Part Two

————————————– @geekyweed hope you like this first part baby girl!

DUN DUN DUNNNN. Part two will be nothing but totally NSFW smut. Desperate and needy yummy smut. If you want to be tagged you know the drill, let me know! Leave me some feedback babies!✨

[the-girl-without-a-face]

Like a Drum My Heart Never Stops Beating For You

STUCKY

Prompt: inspired by Taste_Is_Sweet (Ao3) in You Only Scare The Bad Guys, 

Summary: Bucky and Steve go to a grocery store and meet an unexpected little person. Two, actually. Bucky talks to children while Steve observes his boyfriend from afar.

Warnings: shameless fluff and a very bad pun. Domestic!Stucky

Words: 2094.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

It was a normal Saturday morning.

They had woken up, Bucky had tried to convince Steve to sleep in and Steve had refused. Bucky had sighed, getting up. Then they had gone out to do their usual run, which was accompanied by Sam. They had exclaimed “on your left/right” whenever they outran the Falcon. Bucky always did by the right, though as soon as Sam was left behind, he would run by Steve’s left. He always was on Steve’s left, due to the blonde’s bad right ear before the serum. Old habits die hard. They had returned to their Brooklyn apartment, where they had taken a shower, together.

Then, grocery store. The same one their mothers used to go when they were children and would accompany them to help them with the bags.

“What’s missing?” Steve asked, as he placed four jars of milk into the cart already almost full. Two supersoldier demanded quite a huge amount of food after all.

Bucky retrieved the piece of paper they had scribbled on the past few days from his pocket and raised the piece of paper they had scribbled on during the past couple days. “Chocolate, eggs, orange juice, and plums.”

Steve scrunched his eyebrows. “We still got plums,” he said, confused.

“Doesn’t matter.” Bucky shrugged and started rolling the cart to the fruits section.

Steve caught up with him, smiling and shaking his head at the same time.

“I’ll get the eggs and orange juice then.”

Bucky nodded. Although he didn’t feel comfortable in public places and felt even worse if Steve wasn’t with him, he knew Steve would be just down the corridor from him. Bucky couldn’t help but keep glancing over to the blonde man while picking plums from the pile.

“Are you Bucky?”

Of course Bucky had trailed every soul around Steve, around the possible objects that could be used to hurt him and three escape routes to lead Steve to safety. Of course he cared about Steve and knew everything that happened around him in a radius of six feet. And of course he didn’t notice the little girl who sneaked behind himself.

Bucky looked down and was faced a four-year-old girl. She wore a Captain America skirt, had a plush bear in her tiny arms and a smile on her face. She tried again. “Sir? Are you Bucky Barnes?”

It was actually incredible that no matter how well they tried to blend in, children always recognized them. Two jackets and a baseball cap, his long hair hiding his face and a leather glove on his metal hand, the little girl managed to spot him.

Bucky, tense as he could be, answered very quietly, “Yes.”

The smile on the girl’s face became ginormous, Bucky tried his best to return it. “You’re my favorite superhero, you know.”

Bucky almost took a step back, awestruck by her words. “Your favorite…” he couldn’t get himself to say the word. The word didn’t seem to match his persona. He was part of the Avengers now, yes, but to be called a -

“Superhero,” she finished, beaming. “Here, look,” she showed him the bear in her arms.

A Bucky Bear a bit modified. The ones he knew were from the Captain America comics that portrayed him as Steve’s teenager sidekick – completely ignoring the fact that he older than Steve -, with the bright blue and red uniform and black mask. This one wore black clothing and his left arm was grey – to look like metal – with a red star on the shoulder. The black mask that covered the eyes was the same in both versions though.

“That’s you,” she explained, running her fingers on the bear’s head softly. “I know you can’t protect everyone all the time, but I have Lil’ Bucky with me all the time. He keeps me safe.”

Bucky cleared his throat, crouched on his knees and managed a small smile, willing his voice to remain steady despite how unsure of the situation he was. “I know he does,” he said, trying to remember how to talk to a child. Memories of his younger siblings came to his mind. He hesitated before he opened his mouth again, but the girl didn’t seem to mind. “I told him to protect you.”

She gasped, her eyes wide. “My papa told me you did!” she claimed.

“Is he doing a good job?” he inquired, an eyebrow raised, trying to keep his voice steady. He felt like he would say the wrong thing anytime.

“He is!”

“Is he? That’s good,” he concealed, nodding and smiling a bit more. Bucky couldn’t help but be worried about the girl. She reminded him of his sisters. She had approached him alone, but she was too young to actually be by herself inn a grocery store. “Talking about your father, where is he?”

“He’s fighting a war,” she continued, “He’s a soldier like you.” She looked at the bear again, petting between its ears softly. Then she beamed again. “He got me Lil’ Bucky. My mother and my brother need protection, and Bucky and I will keep them safe!”

“I’m sure you will. Your mother and your brother, where are they?”

The girl looked panicked for a moment and Bucky quickly localized two staff members to help him find the girl’s mother. That wasn’t necessary though. The girl turned and her eyes quickly found them. She pointed at a woman with a little boy by her, “There they are!”

A boy came stumbling over to stand beside the girl. They were clearly twins. “This is the brother Bucky and I keep safe. Jefferson, say ‘hello’.”

“You’re doing an amazing job,” he promised her, coaxing a smile from her. “Hello, Jefferson.”

The boy was quiet, his gaze focused on Bucky. He knew who he was, he knew what he did. He also knew who the Winter Soldier was. And he was scared. He clung to his sister’s side, trying to vanish from sight.

Steve then turned to his boyfriend, about ten meters from him. Only then noticing he was crouched down by two children. Steve furrowed his eyebrows but his eyes shot open when he heard the boy’s mumbled question.

“Will you harm us?”

The blond supersoldier’s body came back to life upon seeing the shock and hurt in Bucky’s face. Steve darted to them, but before he could actually reach them Bucky spoke.

“No,” he said, “You’re afraid of me?” Bucky quietly asked.

The boy nodded, burying his head even further in his sister’s neck. Bucky tried not to remember if he had already encountered a child during his HYDRA years, if he had harmed them. He locked the Soldier’s memories deep inside his mind at that moment.

“Is it the arm?” Bucky asked, unsure.

Again, the boy nodded.

"I won't hurt you," Bucky assured, voice steady but calm. He waited until the bo nodded to slowly took his jacket off, then did the same to the sweater, remaining in his Captain America t-shirt – a souvenir from their visit to the Smithsonian. He looked at the boy, who was looking at the arm, afraid and curious at the same time.

He reached with his right hand and detached the metal device from his body swiftly – thanks Wakandan doctors. "See? No harm. I'm unarmed.”

The boy let out a giggle and separated a bit from his sister. A ghost of a smile appeared on Bucky's face. "Wanna hold it? For many reasons, Bucky wanted every member of HYDRA to suffer and die, wanted to make each and every single one of them see hell – and he would, but not now. But he was thankful for them making the arm as light as it was, so that the kid could hold it without struggle.

Steve, who took a couple of trembled steps toward the scene, observed the kid, whose eyes were glued to the metallic apparatus on his hands in sheer curiosity. He could hear it all, even if he couldn't make out the words by the lips.

“It’s nice,” the boy commented.

“I only use it for the good things,” Bucky explained, “Except when I have to fight the bad guys. After all, they can’t come and harm you, now can they?”

“So you protect us?” The boy’s eyes shone as he looked at Bucky with admiration, smiling, showing all his teeth.

“I try my best,” Bucky assured solemnly, for both them and himself.

The boy looked at the arm again, ran his fingers over the metal fingers and offered it back to the supersoldier. Bucky smiled politely and reattached his arm to his body.

“Thank you for protecting us,” was all the boy said before jumping into Bucky’s chest and wrapping his arms around his neck.

Bucky’s eyes were huge.

He barely hugged people other than Steve – and Thor, who demanded a hug every time he saw Bucky - afraid he’d hurt them. How could he hug a – small, fragile - child?

Bucky concluded he didn’t have a choice when the boy snuggled to him even tighter. In one of the most delicate movements Bucky performed in his entire life, he carefully wrapped his flesh arm around the boy’s back. The girl nodded at him, encouraging him to actually hug her brother. She trusted Bucky with her life and Bucky thought she shouldn't.

He quickly banished the thought form his head: he was trying to get better, trying to be good again. And the only way to be good was to believe he <em>was</em> good. Steve said it and Bucky wanted to make him happy.

The supersoldier slowly, cautiously raised his metal arm, flexed it and touched the boy’s back with his cool hand, running it up and down soothingly, slowly.

Steve observed the scene, still frozen, smiling, eyes burning with unshed tears. It was a beautiful scene to witness indeed.

The boy detached himself from Bucky after a minute or two, Bucky lost count, focusing solely in being gentle with the kid.

The girl grabbed the boy’s hand, “C’mon. Mom’s waiting for us,” she said. Her brother started tugging at her arm, wanting to return to their mother.

“Thank you,” the sister whispered, smiling. It was easier for Bucky to return it this time.

The twins ran back to their mother, who was watching the scene from afar. She was smiling.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, confirming his suspicions that Steve was there, and slowly stood up, turning around.

His head was down, shoulders tense, clenched hands, his chin downwards protecting his throat and his flesh arm around his torso, holding the metal one. His voice was hesitant and so low that Steve wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t standing right in front of him.

“Was that okay?”

Steve breathed a laugh, releasing some tension from his chest. He had forgotten how to breath while watching Bucky and the kids. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

Bucky fought the urge to remain quiet and wait for his punishment as he had done for most of his life. He knew Steve would do that, even if he was indeed mad. But the laugh, the spark in his blue eyes… Bucky fought that maybe Steve wasn’t.

Instead, he force himself to shrugged, still apprehensive of what Steve thought about his interaction toward the children.

Steve took a step closer to Bucky and his hands found the other man’s shoulders, squeezing soothingly. His bright blue eyes showed nothing but love and pride.

“What you did was amazing, Buck. I couldn’t have dealt with it better myself,” Steve’s voice was strong, certain, though low. They still didn’t want to make a scene in a grocery store; most people hadn’t recognized them after all. Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulders gently, not flinching when the metal one didn’t move. Steve smiled warmly at Bucky, his eyes watery and his chest clenched with love towards the brunette in front of him.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky’s smile was so pure and genuine that Steve felt his eyes becoming glassy, but this time, he didn’t bother to cover it.

Steve pulled Bucky for a hug - the ex-assassin more relaxed now, since he knew he wouldn’t smash a child, he most definitely wouldn’t smash his supersoldier of a boyfriend. Bucky’s arm went Steve’s waist, while Steve had one around Bucky’s neck and the other ran over his back. One was what connect the other to life and they intended to transmit the message through caring gestures and loving words.

If someone recognized them, they kept their distance.

[lomlwintersoldier]

The Sun and The Stars {2}

Previous parts: Part 1

Word Count: 3158

Warnings: some light nsfw content

You have to leave. That man knew you and if anyone knew you, then it was time to leave, but you were thrown off by what he’d called you. My star. What a strange thing to call someone.

You couldn’t recall a single thing about this man but the way he looked at you, with a certain tenderness in his clear blue eyes…it unnerved you. He knew you and something deep inside you told you that he cared for you, which was unthinkable. No one cared for you.

You quickly shove your clothes into your backpack, frantically trying to escape your small apartment. It was far enough away from the center of Bucharest that it had survived the alien attack, although a few things had fallen from the shelves after the initial blast. You swing the pack over your shoulder and left the room through the window, ever the cautious one, swallowing your fear as you did.

Time to disappear.

Bucky runs through the city, searching for any indication of Y/N. He’d shoved a quick explanation to Tony but it really wasn’t much and before Stark could even question him, he was gone on his search for her. The memories ran through his mind, spreading like wildfire as he sprinted through the empty streets: a kiss, a loving touch here and there, and finally, the heartbreaking night she’d disappeared. It all came rushing back to him at a nauseating speed but all he knew was that he had to find her, this girl he knew he’d loved.

After four hours of searching, he realizes she’s bolted and is probably halfway across Europe by now; she was always good at disappearing; he knew that from experience.

He’d stumbled upon an apartment building at the edge of the city with the help of Red Wing and  searched every room until he found hers. It was entirely bare but somehow he knew it was hers. Her scent, although faded, lingered in the blankets that were spread across the floor in a makeshift bed and the only thing left behind was a forgotten notebook, wedged between the blankets. Bucky snags it and starts to head back to the quinjet, although slowly. He needs some time to think before he faces the others and he figures it would probably be better to read the journal in the safety of the jet.

By the time he get’s back, the entire team are already in it and are flashing him glares of various glares of anger and annoyance at the fact that he’d made them wait so he heads to the back of the plane, taking one of the spare seats far away from everyone else and grabs the journal from one of the pockets in his pants. Bucky breathes a deep breath as he opens it, preparing himself for what he’s about to read.

She’s scrawled short notes in the stained pages, much more like military log book entries than a diary; he smiles, remembering how tough she was back at HYDRA. It’s obvious she still has the same fire.

Date: 3/22/12

Still no memories. Absolutely fucking nothing. It’s been a two months since I got out and I can’t think of anything that happened at HYDRA that wasn’t torture. Traveling to Italy now.

He winces at her words, knowing the feeling all too well before flipping to the next page, an entry made about a month later.

HYDRA agents searched for me last night. The Asset was there. Barely made it out of Paris unseen.

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he reads the entry. He remembers that night well; he’d been assigned to bring her back and when he failed to, he was punished accordingly and now he realized that even though the Winter Soldier had no recollection of her at that point, some unconscious feeling caused him to sabotage the mission to protect her, sending the men on a false lead to give her more time to escape.

He continues to read through the journal, flipping page after page of her thoughts, jotted down quickly in between cities and events. HYDRA had been relentless in trying to get her back and she’d been unable to stay anywhere longer than a few weeks. He reaches to a point about six months after the first entry when a noise pulls him out of his thoughts. It’s Steve sitting beside him. He’s quiet for a moment, just studying his friend before he speaks.

“What the hell was that back there?” He asks, drawing the answer out of Bucky. “Stark told you?” “Of course he did. Got pretty damn pissed about it too. Also you didn’t turn off your earpieces before you guys started yelling at each other.” Steve replies pointedly. “Scared half the team, thinking we had another civil war on our hands.” Bucky laughs humorlessly and looks down at the journal again, thinking of her.

“So tell me, what happened? Who is she?” Bucky sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before replying. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She was an experiment at HYDRA, the first successful one they ever had using an infinity stone, she can do anything and everything with her mind and I’m willing to bet she’s even more powerful than Wanda.”

Steve’s eyebrows flick up in surprise. Bucky knew what he was thinking; another enhanced, unstable individual with powers even stronger than Wanda’s….well let’s just say that he wasn’t happy about it. “What else?” Steve asks, demanding more. He wanted to know why she meant so much to Bucky but he wasn’t ready to tell Steve everything that happened between them. Bucky sighed heavily before answering. “They had me watch her, train her so I did and we…we got close. We were sent on a mission together one day and I kissed her. I never saw her again after that. They'd told me she died.” “How were you able to kiss her though? You were the Winter Soldier at that point right? You couldn’t feel anything.” Steve states pointedly. “But that’s the thing, whenever I was around her I could. It was like whatever they’d done to her gave me my will, my strength, my personality back. Not my memories though.” Bucky smiles to himself, remembering the first time he saw her. She’d glared at her handler with a defiance that caused her to set her jaw and stand straight, and he knew instantly that she was special, not just in her powers but in her entire personality; there was something about her that HYDRA could never take away from her and it was what ultimately gave her the strength to escape. “What happened?”

Bucky looked down at his hands, remembering the night she’d escaped. No one knew how she got out except for him; she was the strongest enhanced individual he’d ever seen. She could have escaped long before that night but she’d stayed for him, to be close to him. He pushes away the painful memory of the night she left just before it begins to tear a hole in him.

“She escaped.” He whispered. “They ordered me to look for her and kill her but I refused. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That was when they realized how much they’d lost their control over me and they told me they'd killed her. Told me it was my fault for falling for her.”

“Wow.” Steve mutters in shock. “Do you have an idea of where she might go?” “I didn’t even know she was alive until about five hours ago.” Bucky sighs. “But as soon as we land I’m leaving again. I need to find her.”

“Do you want any of us to come with you?”

Bucky shakes his head, closing the journal and replacing it in the pocket of his pants. “I need to do this alone.”

Steve nods and claps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a comforting smile.

“Good luck, pal.”

Bucky ended up being gone for nine months, searching seemingly the whole world for her without any leads. She was incredible at disappearing, he’ll give her that but as each day passed and more and more memories of the two of them surfaced in his mind, the more his heart hurt. The way he missed her was undeniable and the pain of losing her that night seemed to be renewed every day he woke up in a new city.

But still he searched, trying to find any place she would have gone but she seemed to always be three steps ahead. By the time he got to where he thought she was she was long gone.

“What the hell are you doing?” She giggled as Bucky pressed small kisses to her neck. His actions caused a small moan to escape her lips even though she was trying to push him away lightly. “What does it look like I’m doing?” He growled lowly against her skin. She didn’t reply, only curled her fingers in his long hair the way she knew he loved. They rarely had the time or the freedom to do this but when they were sent on missions together, like right now, they could do whatever they wanted. And because of her aura, he was able to do what he wanted. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier around her, just a man she loved.

Right now, her leg is hitched around his hip and her hand is resting against his chest, stroking gently. He can’t remember the last time he was touched by a gentle hand and the way her other hand is curled in his long mop of hair comforts him.

“We have to report back in the morning.” She whispers in his ear. “We need to look like we’ve gotten even a little bit of sleep.”

“Do we?” Bucky hummed against her skin before moving back up to her lips, pressing a heavy kiss to them.

“Yes! We must sleep, solnyshko moyo.” She murmurs but the lust in her eyes tells a different story. Bucky continues to move down until his lips are pressing light kisses to the valley in between her breasts.

“I don’t see why.” He whispers as he continues down to her stomach and then to her hips, although he doesn’t leave any marks; if anyone knew what they did on these missions they would most likely be put to death.

“I guess you’re right.” She moans as he kisses her over her panties. He lets out a breathy laugh, the first one in months and goes back up to her lips. “I love you.” He whispers to her. “Zvezda moya.” She smiles up at him as he hovers over her, his waist in between her thighs. “The same to you, solnyshko moyo.”

Bucky is pulled out of the memory when he realizes he’s been standing at a crosswalk longer than he should have. He blinks and heads down the street, pulling his hat down further over his face to cover himself. He didn’t need anyone to recognize him right now; that would be an inconvenience that would be difficult to explain to the team. The one thing he’d promised when he left was that he would stay under the radar and out of trouble but there had been a few close calls. He had to avoid publicity even more now. Bucky heads down a bare alley, walking lightly as he heads down the empty strip when suddenly he’s shoved against the wall, dragged into a side street by an inhuman force. A knife is pressed to his neck before he can even react.

“Why the hell are you following me?” She snarls as she presses the knife deeper into his neck, ready to slice at a moment’s notice. Bucky raises his hands the way he did when he first saw her, nine months ago. “Listen-” Bucky begins. “No, you listen.” She barks in the same harsh tone. “I’ve done a damn good job at disappearing so you need to back the fuck off and let me escape. I don’t know who you are, if you’re with HYDRA or if you somehow know about me and my powers and you want me for some sick personal gain but you’ve gotta stay the hell away from me.” “Y/N, look, there’s a lot you don’t remember, I know that, but look at me.” Bucky says softly but urgently. “Look at me.”

Her eyes don’t lose the cold, unforgiving stare but she doesn’t make a move to kill him which is an improvement.

“You have to remember me.” “I don’t.” She replies with hostility. “I have no idea who you are.” She releases him and makes a move to leave but he grabs her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. The gesture seems to surprise her, his familiarity catching her off guard. “Zvezda moya.” He whispers urgently. “It’s me.” The faintest hint of recognition flashes in her eyes but she doesn’t pull away from him. “Just let me explain. Please, come with me; I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk.”

She tugs her hand from his before glancing around her warily. “Don’t try anything funny. I think you understand what I could do to you.” She threatens lowly.

Bucky’s heart leaps at her acceptance, even though it’s grudgingly. “I have a hotel room, not too far from here.” “No. No hotel rooms.” She says. “Too many people.” “Where then?” “Come with me.” She turns on her heel without any explanation but Bucky follows. He finally has her.

They walk to a small abandoned factory about an hour out of town. The thin walls do nothing against the windy chill that blows through the building but she doesn’t seem to notice as she pushes through the dirt and filth that’s overtaken the place. She leads him to a tiny room, barely a broom closet where she has blankets set up, much like her other home and there’s a small lamp that casts a dim light over the tiny space.

“You live here?”

“Temporarily. Everything is temporary.” She says as she places herself on the blanket, but her eyes follow him, still not trusting him; he can’t blame her. She doesn’t remember him and the thought tugs at his heart painfully. When he sits across from her, she shifts back slightly, wanting to keep him at arm’s length for her own protection. It’s a moment before he speaks.

“Do you remember anything about HYDRA?” Bucky asks. Pain flashes in her eyes before being taken by a deadened, numb expression, an expression he knows all too well since he escaped HYDRAs grasp as well.

“I know what they did to me.” She winces at the thoughts that come rushing back, as does Bucky. He knows what they did to her as well. “All they caused me was pain. Nothing good came out of that place.”

The comment hurts him more than he thought it would. They really did a number on her memory if she doesn’t remember him at all.

“Do you remember anything about you and I?”

“I know you are the Asset, a dangerous killing machine. I heard of you through my handler.”

Bucky sighs although he didn’t really expect a different answer.

“Do you remember what we meant to each other?” He whispers, shifting slightly, preparing himself for the inevitable truth.

“No.” The word is cold and harsh and it cuts him like a knife but he can’t blame her. He knows they wiped her before she escaped. They both had no chance.

And so he began his story, telling her of the nights they spent together and the stolen kisses in the dark hallways of the facilities they’d stayed in. He tells her about the first time he saw her smile and that the happiness it caused him doubled because he knew the cause was him. He speaks about the sudden rush of feeling he experienced when she smiled at him that first time and how those feelings tripled when he finally kissed her. As he continues to speak, her face becomes less guarded and more intrigued but she still looks at him with a certain detachment which only signifies that she doesn’t remember any of this. When he finishes, she just stares at him but the hostility and anger she so confidently wore when she looked at him is no longer plastered across her face.

“All of that happened? With you and me?” She asks quietly, cocking her head slightly to the left.

“Yeah.”

She heaves a sigh, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t remember you.” She whispers as she shifts so that she’s closer to him. “But I want to.”

She holds his gaze as those words melt him from the inside and a small smile, the first one he’s felt in months, makes it’s way to the surface.

“You were the only person who was kind to me, weren’t you?.” She whispers as she leans into him slightly, her closeness affecting him in ways he didn’t think possible. Just her being in this close proximity sends a wave of calm over him.

“I loved you.” He whispers, leaning closer so that their faces are just inches apart and he’s overwhelmed by the need to kiss her.

Clang.

Instantly, the guarded expression is back on her faces as she spreads her gloved hands, ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice. Bucky’s on the defensive as well, crouched protectively over her even though she doesn’t need protecting.

“I’ve stayed here too long.” She mutters as she grabs her things and shoves them into her backpack and clips the lamp to the outside of it.

“Wait.” Bucky grabs her hand but instantly she pulls it back. “Come with me. I can take you somewhere where you can be safe.”

Voices accompany the noises and her eyes dart back and forth between him and the direction of the noises. She still doesn’t know whether to trust him. “You wouldn’t have to run anymore.” Bucky promises as he gazes into her eyes. She seems uncertain but he takes her hand, forcing her to look at him. “I can help you now. I can take care of you.”

After a few moments she nods. He yanks then both of them up and together, they run through the warehouse as excited voices start to yell.

“Hey boys, there she is.” One of them yells. “Fucking get her. Alive.”

“Fuck off!” She yells back before sending a burst of energy at the rafter over where they’re standing. It doesn’t take much effort for the roof to collapse on top of the team of HYDRA agents but both Bucky and Y/N know they’re not dead. Bucky can still hear them swearing but the two of them manage to escape, running into the darkness of the night but at some point during their track, their hands instinctively find each others and that’s when Bucky feels the faintest flicker of hope. 

A dangerous feeling.

Next part: Part 3

Tags: 

@xxchexchickxx

[lesbenoits]

title: secret moments that we steal as the curtain falls (it’ll never be enough) (ao3)

theme: one more time

word count: 2721

rating: T

   Iko looked old. Her synthetic skin was creased and her once vibrant hair was a faded gray. But the milky white clouding her eyes was a clever bit of technology; her vision was as sharp was ever. Despite the bounds android and cyborg technology had made, wires and nerves could not replicate the tremors of an old woman’s hands, nor the aches and pains that plagued her companions. No matter how useless she felt watching her friends wither away before her eyes, tears would not spill. They couldn’t.

   Émilie’s hand had clapped to her mouth as she held the paper she had snatched from Cress’s quivering hands. Handing over a physical letter when a soldier passed was an antiquated and impractical formality, but the sharply creased paper only made the moment seem more fraudulent, a scene stolen from someone else’s life. Scarlet took it upon herself to shoo the officers that had delivered the news away and Émilie wrapped her arms around a quivering Cress. Iko grabbed the crisp paper that had fluttered to the floor.

   Crescent Moon Darnel,

   It is with our deepest regrets that we inform you of the passing of Carswell Thorne. Given your close relationship, the passing of the late Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, and his lack of living blood relatives, you are considered the next of kin.

   A casualty message has been received which states Carswell Thorne passed on November 27th, 141 T. E. in a hover crash caused by gunfire from a rogue Lunar Operative. He passed in the line of duty. More details about the incident were sent to you in a comm.

   We sincerely regret that this message must bring so much sorrow to you and our greatest sympathy is with you and his loved ones in your bereavement.

                           Sincerely,

                           The American Republic Military Office

Despite the inordinate amounts of danger they had been in during the revolution, Iko had always thought they would make it out alive. And whether because the stars had shined kindly on them that day or pure dumb luck had been on their side, they had all made it out a little worse for the wear, but alive. In the back of her mind, Iko knew that she would see her friends die someday, but that day had always seemed so far away. Cress’s wails and the sounds of a plate Scarlet smashed turned into a cataphonic symphony of despair.

He had been thirty-five.

Not for the first time, Iko wished she could cry.

   Not twenty years later, Iko felt her best friend’s hand go limp and cold beneath her own fingers. There were no last moments together, no last laughs together. Influenza had reached out with its icy fingers and dragged her into the dark. Influenza. It felt like a big cosmic joke. She had survived the war, Levana, dark social and political times, childbirth, letumosis, Adri’s abuse, oppression– only to be stolen from them by influenza.

   The heart rate monitor flatlined. “Somebody!” Kai screeched. “Do CPR, do something!” He lunged forward, the heel of his palm pressing against her chest. He only managed four compressions before falling backward, broken sobs escaping his throat. The waxy dark circles under his eyes were puffy with tears and he clawed at empty space.

   “Your Highness, you need to let the doctors–”

   “Somebody, do something! She can’t– she can’t–” The animalistic sound that escaped him broke Iko’s heart. She forced herself to bring her hands from her mouth, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him towards the door.

   “Come on, we need to let the doctors in.” The strength of her own voice surprised her.

   “It wasn’t her time. It should be me,” he whispered, his voice wobbling. “It isn’t fair.”

   “Shh, I know.” Shudders wracked Iko’s frame, but tears did not fall. “I know.”

There was speculation that the Emperor simply could not go on without his Cinder, that his heart broke when she died. Posters of their beloved Emperor and Empress were plastered throughout the streets of the Eastern Commonwealth and were speckled throughout the world. But for every poster and memorial for their Emperor, there were ten for Cinder. For their Empress, for the cyborg girl that had defeated one of the most notorious villains in history, for the girl that had dissolved the lunar monarchy, for the woman that spent her days campaigning and writing legislature for cyborg rights, for the woman that had started the cyborg pride movement, for the woman that was unapologetically herself and had once been one of them, just a sixteen-year-old girl that had been forced to rise to the occasion.

The world wept for the couple that had been silly and strong and always loving. The world wept for the couple that had seemed a little more human than the previous faces inhabiting the palace. The world wept for the children that would be forced to bury their parents. The world wept for the couple that had started the revolution, for the couple that had been more than heroes; they had been icons. The world wept for the sun; the world cried for the moon. They had been an inspiration.

Iko couldn’t cry, but she grieved for her best friend, for the girl that she had spent so many nights within Adri’s basement, for every laugh they had, for every laugh they would never have. She grieved for inside jokes and for Cinder’s fight for her own rights and for Iko’s, for her presence in Iko’s life despite living in a different country for most of the time. She grieved for the sixteen-year-old girl and the fifty-year-old woman. She grieved for the empress and for the mother and the wife, but most of all for her friend.

Scarlet and Wolf looked severe and uncomfortable in their suits, clutching each other. Winter broke into unabashed sobs and Iko was pretty sure she saw tears glinting in Jacin’s eyes. Cress looked more tiny than usual and Émilie’s eyes were bright with tears as she squeezed Iko’s hand. An integral piece of Iko’s world had been removed; it was like looking at the world through someone else’s eyes.

   Sometimes Iko could barely remember the version of herself that had said, “broken isn’t the same as unfixable.” Her head had been so full of hope and romantic notions about the world. That Winter would get better, that the post-revolution high could last forever, that they would be young forever.

Winter was a shattered porcelain doll that had never been quite whole again. Her deterioration had been a process, like a ball of silk slowly being unwound until only a tangled pool of string remained. In her final moments, she was barely recognizable. A husk of who she used to be, her body a casket for the soul that had died a long time ago. Jacin had stayed with her until the very end, clinging to the sliver of Winter that remained. He had become venomous in the very end, lashing out at those that dared come near her.

Scarlet had been the one to confront the viper, standing as fierce as she always had, hands on her hips and hair streaming behind her. “We all care about her, Jacin. We’ve all been there for her. Is this what Winter would want? Being alone in her final moments?”

“You don’t know what the hell she would have wanted, she’s gone,” he had hissed. But he stepped back, and Winter passed surrounded by those that cared about her. Iko glanced up at the stars surrounding them and wondered if Kai and Cinder and Thorne were watching from wherever they were now. Cress’s glittering eyes looked like they were wondering the same thing.

Winter and Jacin had always been so dependent on each other. Losing her seemed to be the last straw for Jacin, pushing him over the edge Winter had been clinging to her entire life. Unlike Winter’s goodbye, his funeral was a small affair, only attended by close friends and family members. The dwindling number of people in the room only made Iko more aware of the wires and electricity powering her own body. Everyone else was so fragile.

You would think Iko would get used to people leaving her eventually, but every emotion was as raw as the first time her heart was ripped from her chest. When Wolf passed in the middle of the night, Émilie broke down into the most miserable sobs that made Iko want to hide somewhere far away. She never wanted those sounds to reach her ears again. She had never felt more useless. Émilie and Scarlet clung to each other and Iko hurried to put on tea. She wasn’t sure exactly what tea was supposed to do, but busying her fingers made her feel a little better. Her friends were dying and all she could do was make tea.

Scarlet, Émilie, and Iko were closer than ever. Cress had her own life in America with other friends and social circles, but she still came to visit from time to time. Scarlet and Wolf’s gaggle of grandchildren would sometimes stop by, friends in tow. Émilie doted on the kids, and Iko once again mourned the lack of their own. The house always smelled like cinnamon and warm bread, and there were always at least three kids gathered around Scarlet, wanting to hear more about the revolution, and had she really met Levana? What was Luna like? Was Cinder as awesome in person as she seemed in the newsfeeds? Scarlet answered all their questions with begrudging fondness and Émilie fed them more sticky buns, which were in abundance. Iko could almost hear Thorne’s jokes and bragging, Cinder shoving him in the wrist, and Wolf standing quietly in the background. Winter and Jacin would have loved having so many kids around. Winter would have played games with them, letting them braid flowers into her hair and giggling that intoxicating and giggly laugh of hers.

The older children would help fix leaks and broken appliances and other maintenance and physical work that Scarlet and Émilie could no longer carry out. Obviously, Iko could manage some of it and they could have hired someone to do the rest of it, but doing so would have taken away from the nostalgia and sense of timelessness. Those were the years of warm cider and wool blankets, pine needles and stained floorboards, of children and warmth and the peacefulness of old age.

Maybe that was why Scarlet’s death shook Iko to the core. She passed peacefully in her sleep at an old age. Still, Iko still felt the weight on her shoulders. She should have been more strict about making Scarlet take her medicine. She should have done something. Scarlet had always been the strongest, and for death to be able to wrap its claws around her was unimaginable. It wasn’t her time. She had only been eighty-three, she had to have had more time.

She was still numb from Scarlet’s passing when a comm from one of Cress’s friends informing them that Cress had passed in her sleep soon after Scarlet’s death reached them. Émilie burst into more tears; the pair had been fairly close. That was the day fear struck Iko like ice working its way through her veins. Émilie had grown so frail and everyone else was gone. How much more time did they have left?

Iko held tight to Émilie that night.

   Every relationship comes with conditions. Maybe it can only last until one leaves for college, they won’t be home much, or you absolutely cannot eat their leftovers. Iko and Émilie’s always came with a time limit. When they were young and intoxicated by the dawn of a post-war world and giddy with requited yearning it hadn’t seemed to big. It wasn’t until the first streak of gray had appeared in Émilie’s hair Iko had to shove the lurking deadline out of her mind. She immediately got artificial gray streaks in her own hair, a ruse meant to distract and deny the inevitable.

   It was a cliche, but Iko often felt as if the world was against them, against her, against their happiness. On more than one occasion Iko had to indignantly explain that, no, she was not an employee here, and yes, they would like a table for two, and no, Iko would not be standing. Sometimes they would hold hands tighter in defiance. Other times they would exchange a glance and drop hands, moving few inches apart. So many experiences had been ripped away with cruel laughter and sideways glances. There would be no wedding, no white dresses and giggling and champagne. No children, no growing old together. Just disapproval and judgment.

One particularly bad day, Émilie had thrown a china plate against the wall, the delicate spray of roses shattering into a million pieces. Her blonde hair hung greasy and lank, hiding her bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks. She clenched her fist and raised it as if she was going to smash something before Iko grabbed her wrist and wrapped her in her arms. “I hate them. I hate everyone.”

Iko rubbed comforting circles on her back, whispering sweet nothings and murmurs of agreement.

“And I know that throwing things won’t fix anything, but I just needed to do something.” Tears brimmed and threatened to spill over. Iko wished for tear ducts.

There would be no bargaining for more time. Immortality was impossible and the closest they would get was – “no. That’s not living. I don’t want a husk of what I used to be kept alive with machines and medicine.” Later, Émilie grabbed Iko’s hand, squeezing it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Iko wondered how many more times she would get to hear that.

They never cycled through to reach acceptance. At least Iko never did. Émilie was born with a timer that would some day run out, it wasn’t something she had to grow to accept, although Iko wondered if she sometimes Émilie had imagined a different life. A life with someone she could grow old with, someone she could find in the constellations after they had passed. Children, perhaps. The one time Iko had brought it up, Émilie had been quick to reply. “Of course I didn’t expect life to turn out like this, but who could have predicted any of this? I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Iko’s gaze glazed over as she listened to the steady beep of the heart rate monitor attached to Émilie. She looked so small in the hospital gown, her thin gray hair spread out over the pillow. She had always been the sun in any given room, drawing everyone into her light. Her exuberance and vibrancy were a force to be contended with. How had she had been reduced to this frail bird lying in a cold, white room?

Were you happy with your life? Was this what you wanted? Iko had so many things left to say to her. There were so many more stories to tell, stories to make. It would never be enough time, and Iko had forever. Émilie did not. Her eyes slid back into focus as she gripped Émilie’s hand a little tighter, her thumb rubbing Émilie’s palm, a fond smile on her face. Memories of the terror and hope she had felt during the revolution, the uselessness she had felt in Adri’s house, the wild love and lust with Émilie, the sweet golden years of cinnamon and stories, every laugh she had shared, every tear she couldn’t shed, bubbled up inside her. This was the life she had led, and it had been so full. She couldn’t imagine another one.

And when Émilie’s heart rate monitor flatlined, there were no comforting words of, “we’ll be together someday,” or “take your time, my love.” Her friends were celestial beings now, settled amongst stars and the divinity of galaxies. Iko stood on the earth with her feet firmly planted, her gaze on the heavens. No poetic tears ran down her cheeks. There was no heartbeat to be felt within her cleverly hidden wires. Just an empty body and faulty ID chip in staring at the stars above. She had forever, but Émilie wasn’t part of that eternity.

Iko didn’t want it.