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traveler-at-heart · 3 months ago

Text

Speak or die?

Summary: You have a crush on your poetry professor.

Professor Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request by @jujuu23 :) Hope you like it

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Professor Romanoff closes the book, the classroom silent as she walks to the front. Her raspy voice had a way of enchanting people, and it almost felt like she had cast a spell on everyone.

“Thoughts?” she asks, adjusting her glasses. Her beautiful features are framed by a couple of strands of fiery hair, the rest of it tied in a messy bun.

A couple of people lean back on their seats, nervous about being called to participate.

“What a weirdo” Barnes says, and some of your classmates laugh.

“Thank you, for that very insightful analysis, Mr. Barnes. Any other thoughts you’d like to share with the class?”

Before he can speak again and say something even more stupid, you jump in.

“It’s about madness, caused by grief. About his beloved, who he’ll never forget but is gone. It’s the same theme in Annabel Lee and Lenore. Though I think Annabel Lee is a lot less haunting… there’s a certain serene beauty to it.”

“Very good, Miss Y/L/N. And of course, we have the references to Pallas Athena. Not uncommon for Allan Poe to mention Greek mythology. Your next assignment will be to find and discuss examples of mythology and classical literature within his work”

As everyone leaves the room, you walk next to the professor’s desk.

“I’ve enjoyed your essay. Well, both of them” she says.

“Both?” you stop, looking confused.

“It’s very obvious your boyfriend is not writing his papers” she tries to keep her composure, but finds it irritating that someone as bright as you is with Barnes of all people.

“Oh, Bucky? Yeah, I might have helped him a bit… not my boyfriend, though”

You think it’s best to leave out the fact he enrolled in this class to meet pretty girls and act like he knows about poetry.

“Well, he should still do his own homework” Natasha says, this time with a kinder tone. “And nice work today”

“Thank you” you nod, smiling as you leave the classroom.

You hope Professor Romanoff didn’t notice the way you were blushing at her praise.

—

Natasha glances at her cozy living room one last time. It’s a crisp autumn night, and she could still cancel her plans and stay home with a good book and a glass of wine.

But she’d never hear the end of it, would she?

The woman takes a cab to the gallery downtown, hoping the evening ends early and she can at least read a chapter or two of her novel before bed.

As she enters the crowded space, Natasha feels the need to turn around and leave. Carol’s voice stops her.

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yelena made me do it” the redhead explains, standing next to her colleague and friend.

“Well, she’s quite the artist. You should be proud of your sister” Carol says, looking around the room until she finds the younger woman. Natasha nods her thanks and walks to her sister, smiling.

“You made it!” Yelena, who was explainig her sculpture to a man, stops mid sentence and hugs Natasha. “I thought you’d find a way to stay home and avoid being out”

“I promised I’d be here. Go. I’ll have a look around” Natasha says when another woman walks up to Yelena.

“Try the appetizers, they’re really good!” Yelena says before going up to meet a group of art dealers.

It’s a big night for the Art Department. They have been planning this exhibit for months now. Plenty of critics and art dealers would stop by, hoping to find the next big name.

Natasha walks around, eyeing the paintings and sculptures in the room. Distracted by a very abstract work, she fails to notice another person walking behind her until her back collides with a shoulder.

“Sorry” she turns, surprised at meeting your eyes and friendly smile.

“Hi, Professor Romanoff” you greet. “How are you liking the exhibit?”

“It’s good. What are you doing here?”

“College paper business. And to support my roommate, Wanda” you point at a couple of paintings, with very dark themes and distorted faces. “She’s uh… going through her misunderstood artist phase”

“Well, she’s certainly committed to it” Natasha says, looking at the girl who must be Wanda, dark hair and smokey eyes giving her a grunge look.

“She’s a sweetheart” you promise, knowing that’s only one side of her. You’ve seen her cry over The Dick Van Dyke show, for heaven’s sake. Though you promised you’d never tell anyone. “Want to be on the record for me?”

“How so?”

“Just tell me what you think of the exhibit. Or the department in general” you shrug your shoulders. “It’s good that other faculty members are here”

“Well, I’ve known Carol for years, back when we were both students. She’s very committed to her work and advancing the curriculum, so it’s great to see an amazing selection tonight. My sister seems to think a great deal of the success is due to Danvers”

“Your sister?”

“Yelena Belova” Natasha clarifies. At hearing that name, you blush and she immediately assumes that something happened between you two.

The reality is, you’ve spoken about how much you love your poetry professor in front of Yelena on more than one occasion. Now you understand why she laughed so hard when you said Natasha was Aphrodite reincarnate.

That little shit.

“Yeah, I know Yel. Wanda and her hang at the dorm, I mean, we all do” you trip over your words, picking up a glass of red wine to ease your nerves.

“You sure you can handle that?” Natasha asks, appreciating the way your cheeks blush at the taste of the alcohol.

“It’s fine” you lick your lips, missing the way Natasha follows the movement with her eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to know Yelena has someone with common sense to keep her grounded” Natasha says and inspite of your internal struggle, you smile.

In that moment, Carol clinks her glass gently, getting everyone’s attention. As she speaks, you try to listen to her words -the toast should be mentioned in the article- but your mind is focused on Natasha’s parfum, and the warmth of her body as she stands next to you. Once Danvers is done, everyone claps and you take a breath, thinking it might be a good idea to get some fresh air.

“Sestra, there you are” Yelena walks up to you two, a knowing smirk at your affected state. “I’d introduce you but I believe you already know each other”

“Yeah” you smile, looking anywhere but Natasha. “I’ll leave you to it, gotta talk to a couple more people. Enjoy your evening”

Yelena doesn’t move, so you’re forced to walk very close to Natasha, and the moment your eyes meet you almost forget how to breathe.

The redhead doesn’t miss the way your pupils are blown or the not so subtle way in which you glance at her lips.

She wants to reach out and grab your wrist, turn you around and devour your lips in a messy kiss. Instead, she sees you walk towards your friend.

“See? Aren’t you glad I made you come out of your cave?”

Apparently, your crush wasn’t one sided after all.

—

The school paper. Natasha barely paid attention to it, even when it was delivered every Monday to her office, same as every faculty member at Lang University.

This time, she is eager to open it and read your article. There it is, your name and a very long piece about the exhibit. Your prose is exquisite, and you didn’t just deliver an event summary; it’s a deep dive into the department, budget cuts and how students and professors are investing their own resources to keep the course alive.

Right under the dean’s nose. Natasha has to smile; it’s true that Howard Stark was more inclined to favor the Science department and a number of protests had gone unanswered on his side. Most of them came from tenured professors, as part time teachers and students were concerned with some sort of retaliation.

Not you, though.

Natasha is so focused on the article that she misses the knock on her door until Fury comes in.

“Romanoff” he greets. “Picking up on some light reading?”

“Something very entertaining” she turns the pages to show your article and he chuckles.

“She’s got balls” he recognises. “Heard she was talking about it with some art dealers who donate to the university. Apparently Stark is listening now”

“I’m happy to hear that”

“That’s not why I’m here, though” Fury sits down, crossing his legs. “The Foster Grant”

“What about it?” Natasha says, playing dumb. She hates to be the center of attention. “I know I got it, it’s no big deal”

“It is to the department. We don’t want to be the next on the list of budget cuts”

“Maybe we’ll just have to ask Y/N to write an article for us” she jokes, but Fury just smirks knowingly.

“Great idea! Let’s have her write something about your work and the research you’ve been doing” he slaps his knee, standing up.

“What?”

“Well, don’t look at me like that, it was your idea, Romanoff. Better be this week so it’s on next Monday’s edition” he winks, leaving her office whistling.

As usual, Natasha is blindsided by her boss. How on Earth will she manage a conversation alone with you?

Still, Fury leaves no room for argument, and at the end of Tuesday’s class, you approach her desk.

“I was told you had an assignment for me” you say, biting your lip nervously.

“Yes, that’s right. Something about a research grant, it’s really not a big deal. Sorry that Fury put you up to it” she dismisses the thing like it’s a nuissance.

“I don’t mind at all. Just wanted to check if… when do you want to meet. And where. It would be better around Thursday so I can come prepared with questions and then write everything over the weekend. But I’ll adjust to your schedule”

“Thursday is fine by me” Natasha nods. “My office? Last class is at 5, so maybe 6”

“Yeah, sounds good” you nod, blushing. “See you then, professor”

How will you survive this?

—

Thursday comes faster than you’d like, and you’re inspecting your wardrobe as if you’re going on a first date.

Everythig’s too ugly. Why do you have such ugly clothes?

Ugh, I should just cancel.

In the end, you opt for a preppy look, with a black skirt and thights, choosing a black and white stripped sweater for the cold weather.

You run into Yelena and Wanda in the living room.

“Where are you going so fancy?” the blonde says, whistling and forcing you to twirl so she can have a 360 of your outfit. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you?”

Wanda, who actually knows about your appointment, covers her mouth to keep from laughing and you glare at her.

“Don’t”

“What? Is it someone I know?” Yelena looks between the two of you.

“Yes. It’s your sister” Wanda finally cracks.

“It’s not a date!” you rush to say when Yelena turns to look at you. “I’m writing an article about her research”

“Mmm, right” she nods, not believing you. “She asked about you the other day, you know?”

“She did? I mean, what did she want to know?” you try to pretend it’s no big deal.

“She asked if we hooked up. I told her you’re not my type”

“Oh, please. I’m everyone’s type” you huff, picking up your bag before you run late. You still want to stop by the cafeteria.

“You’re certainly Natasha’s” Yelena mumbles, but you miss it. “Good luck on your non date with my sister”

“Not a date… although, what’s her coffee order?”

“I’ll tell you if you admit it’s a date”

By the time you finally get Yelena to answer, you’re ten minutes late, walking around campus with two coffees and cookies. Knocking with your elbow, you hear a soft come in and figure out how to open the door.

Juggling everything, you walk into Natasha’s office.

“Let me help you” the woman says, standing up and rushing to your side. You hand over the cup with her name. “For me?”

“Yes”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I should be the one with a drink to offer. How did you know?” she licks her lips, appreciating the sweet flavor of the caramel macchiato. Her glasses fog from the warmth of the drink and you have to resist the urge to kiss her.

“I asked Yelena” you admit. “Glad to know she wasn’t pranking me”

“I do have a sweet tooth”

“No worries, I won’t write anything about it” you take a notepad and your phone to record. “May I?”

“Please” Natasha settles behind her desk, appreciating that cute little frown that always appears when you’re focused. You go over your notes for a minute and then nod, ready to begin.

The hour goes by quickly, and Natasha feels proud when she notices you’ve stopped taking notes, genuinely interested and asking about everything she’s been researching for the past year and a half.

“Oh, it’s getting late. I’m so sorry for keeping you here” you apologize, looking at the time.

“That’s ok, I’m free for the rest of the evening. I cleared my schedule just for you”

The words make your heart flutter. Of course she doesn’t mean anything by it, but how you wished she did.

“So, do you have time for a couple more questions?”

“Sure”

For you, she has all the time in the world. Natasha could spend all night watching you put that lose strand of hair behind your ear, while you write down your thoughts.

It’s dangerously endearing.

“I’d like to know… your favorite poem” you ask, more for yourself than for the article.

Natasha takes a deep breath, standing up and walking around her desk. She speaks as she approaches you, in that soft, tender tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“I loved you; even now I may confess,

Some embers of my love their fire retain;

But do not let it cause you more distress,

I do not want to sadden you again.

Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly

With pangs the jealous and the timid know;

So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,

I pray God grant another love you so”

Natasha looks into your eyes as she sits on the edge of the desk, mere inches away from you.

In truth, you had expected her to answer with the poem’s title, not recite it to you so passionately.

“Pushkin” you sigh, looking at your hands.

“Very good” she praises, which makes you blush even harder. “It sounds better in Russian, though”

“I can imagine” you say, torn between wanting to hear it or not. You might lose your last sliver of self control if she speaks her native language.

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

You need to kiss her, discover how her lips feel against yours. Hold her hand, guide her up your skirt…

“Yes. I… mean, no, I have everything I need, professor” you snap out of your thoughts, looking flustered. “Thank you so much for making the time to speak to me”

“I always have time for my best student” she says, standing up and walking you to the door. “I’m looking forward to reading your article”

“I’ll try to live up to the expectations”

“I’m sure you will” she says gently, leaning against the threshold of the door. You look at her lips one last time before stepping back, wishing the evening could be prolonged.

Natasha watches you walk away, already missing your presence.

—

You spend the weekend reliving the interview. Thank God you kept recording when Natasha recited Pushkin, because now you have it for posterity.

The article is done, has been since you got back to your dorm. The words flowed effortlessly as you remembered everything Natasha said, and so you spent all night writing and correcting it until it was perfect. Even your editor was impressed when you sent it over.

Now, all that’s left is you, the recording and the view from your window. You listen to Natasha over and over again, hoping her presence migh somehow slip into your subconscious and then, she’ll be in your dreams as well.

As if you had summoned her, Natasha appears outside your window, walking with Yelena. As her sister walks into your building to meet with Wanda, Natasha looks up, waving at you. You remove your headphones, blushing at the fact that you were just listening to her speak on the recording.

“How’s the article coming along?”

“Signed, sealed, delivered” you smile. “I do hope you’ll like it”

“It will be the first thing I read tomorrow” she promises, saying goodbye. This time, you don’t bother to hide the fact that you’re staring as she leaves, and a little part of you feels like Juliet, watching Romeo walk away.

Forbidden love.

No, not forbidden. Unrequited.

With a sigh, you walk away and join your friends, thinking it’s better to distract yourself now that you remember Natasha Professor Romanoff is out of your reach.

Still, you can only fall asleep as you listen to her reciting that poem over and over again. And when you wake up, the resolve to see her again overcomes every fiber of your being.

So you walk up to her office, knowing very well she’s there at break of dawn.

“Y/N” she says, looking at the paper in your hands. “Come in”

“I thought you’d like to read it. But maybe you’re busy. And you won’t like it or it’s not a big deal to you” you rant, handing it over and turning to leave. “Never mind”

“Stay” is all she says, hand reaching for your wrist. Your heart skips a beat at the contact and you nod, trying to ease your nerves.

Natasha sits on her small sofa to read the article, and you’re too anxious so you walk around her office, examining the bookshelves. As you approach her desk, you focus on an open book, some notes scribbled along the margins.

“I love it” Natasha says, standing right behind you. You jump, so absorbed by the book that you didn’t hear her stand up and come close to you. She’s now reading over your shoulder. “It’s the Heptameron, by Marguerite de Navarre. I was working on a translation from the German edition”

You can now see the sheet of paper next to the page, Natasha’s writing looking rushed as if she fears the words will be taken by the wind. With a shaky voice, you break the sudden silence in the room, reading the story.

“A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess

And she too is in love with him

Though she seems not to be entirely aware of it

Despite the friendship that blossoms between them or

Perhaps because of that very friendship

The young knight finds himself

So humbled and speechless

That he's totally unable to bring up the subject of his love

Till one day he asks the princess point blank

Is it better to speak or to die?”

“I found myself thinking a lot about unrequited love this weekend. And so I remembered this little thing” she says in a low voice. “What do you think is better? Speak or die?”

“I think that depends, Professor” you sigh, feeling her hand against your lower back.

“Depends… on what?” she whispers against your ear, making you shiver. “Should I speak about all the times I think of you, of how endearing and wonderful and intriguing you are to me?”

You turn around, cornered against her desk. Natasha’s hands traces a path down your arm, and takes your hand, lifting it to her lips. Your eyes follow the movement, and a sigh leaves your lips at the soft kiss she places on the back of your hand.

“Should I speak about how I wonder what it would be like to kiss you, taste you, mark you, until you’re chanting my name like a prayer?”

This time, her hand travels to your lips, pupils dilating as you allow her to invade your mouth with her finger, sucking gently until she retrieves it, pulling you by the waist.

“Should I speak, then? Or shall we keep pretending neither one of us wants this?” she whispers against your lips. You close your eyes, taking a breath to steady your heart. Her touch, her words, is all too much and you’re afraid it’s all a perfect dream, and at any moment you’ll wake up, alone and desperate for her.

“Please…” you say, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a messy, frantic kiss. Dream or reality, you’ll take Natasha in whatever way you can.

Natasha craddles your face in her hands, spreading your legs apart with her knee. You whine incoherently at her surprising strenght, your hands balled up in fists around the fabric of her pristine shirt.

“You’re so perfect” she sighs against your lips. “So beautiful”

“Natasha” you plead, wanting to feel her against you, closer, harder. More, more, more until you’re on the brink of destruction and she’s all that exists.

“I want you. Do you want me?” she asks, and you catch the uncertainty in her tone.

“Of course I do”

If only she could feel how wet you are, all because of her touch.

But there’s a knock on the door, and you both look at the spot, alarmed. Natasha squeezes your hand to reassure you.

“Yes?”

“Just delivering the paper, Professor”

“Leave it outside, I’ll pick it up in a minute. Thank you”

You take a moment to breathe and fix your hair, aware that your lips are swollen from all the kissing.

You kissed your professor. Natasha Romanoff kissed you.

“Are you ok?” she asks, worried about your sudden silence.

“Just wondering if I’m about to wake up from a beautiful dream” you admit, and she smiles.

“Do you dream of me?” she teases, her hand reaching for yours.

“Only when I’m awake”

Natasha smiles, kissing your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? My place. This Friday”

“Yes. I’d love to”

There’s another knock on the door, but Fury doesn’t wait for Natasha to answer. You jump away from the woman, unsure if this could get her into trouble.

Luckily, Fury is busy inspecting the paper that was dropped outside of Natasha’s office and he doesn’t pick up on anything as he looks up.

“Miss Y/L/N. You wrote an amazing article. Brilliant”

“Thank you, Doctor Fury” you say. “I should head out, my Sociology class is starting soon”

Natasha smiles at you, hoping you understand how much she wishes you could carry on.

But the promise of more lingers in her eyes and so, as you take one last look at her, you return her smile.

“I’m happy the knight spoke, Professor. See you in class”

“See you in class, Miss Y/L/N”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

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simmerandwrite · 8 days ago

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sink into me (masterlist)

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate. Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Warnings: angst, canon level violence, gun violence, allusions to dog fighting, smut

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

Extras:

Grapefruit Sidecar

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader x mob! Bucky Barnes Summary: It was just an innocent question. You definitely didn't have any ulterior motives: “Have you ever had a threesome?” But when Steve admits something from his past with Bucky, you can't help but wonder...

Part 1: The Club | Part 2: The Penthouse

#story: sink into me #mob boss Steve Rogers #mob boss steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #plus size reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you

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angelbaby-fics · 1 year ago

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i just saw requests are open so sorry if it’s too late to ask!!!

could i request something along the lines of Daddy!Stucky with a little who loves coloring/drawing/crafts and Steve usually does them with the reader cause he’s artsy but he’s not home so she asks Bucky to do it with her, but he’s not artsy so he’s hesitant but he obviously still does it cause that’s his baby. And it turns out he’s really good at it and has tons of fun

(sorry i just kinda word dumped i hope that made sense)

🩰

Masterpiece

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Okay, first of all can we just appreciate this gif??? he looks so pretty & squishy & i just wanna kiss him all over hehehe 💕 anyways i really really love this idea!!! and i had a lot of fun writing it! :D so i hope you have a good time reading it 💕

When it came to artistry, your daddy was your idol. Steve had been drawing since he was very young, very long ago, and so he was rather good at it. You loved to color alongside him, each drawing the same subject and comparing your masterpieces when you were finished. You were so mesmerized by the way he intuitively connected one line with another, visualizing the whole picture in his head as he brought it to life on the paper. Steve always told you that yours was better, and even though you knew he had to say that because he was your daddy, the compliment still made you beam.

You’d recently gotten a brand new sketchbook, and you were hopping with excitement to fill it up with art. When you woke up that morning, the first thing you did as you tumbled out of bed was grab your bucket of markers in one hand, sketchbook in the other as you sprinted out to the living room. You scanned the room for Steve, drinking his morning coffee on the couch like he usually was. But he wasn’t there today. Instead, Bucky was on the couch, and he looked up from his book as you burst into the room.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” he said with a loving smile. “Where dada?” You asked, your artistic tunnel vision making you ignore your Baba completely. “Well hello to you too,” Bucky said with a cheeky grin. “Daddy’s gotta work today, so you’re stuck with me, muffin!”

“Oh, okay.” You said, putting down your art supplies and joining Bucky on the couch. You tried to hide your disappointment - you loved spending time with Bucky after all - but you’d been so looking forward to drawing with Steve that day. “What’s wrong, doll, don’t you like me?” Bucky joked.

“Of course! But… wanted to draw.” You replied, whispering the last part. It was no secret that Steve was the one you always drew with, and Bucky played the role of a high end art dealer or a museum curator when you were ready to display your work. You’d never drawn with him, and you weren’t opposed to it, but it just wasn’t something you were used to. “Well I could try to draw with you if you’ll let me, sugar.” Bucky suggested, hoping to still salvage your perfect day.

“Really?” You asked.

“Sure! In fact, why don’t you teach me how, since you’re the one who’s good at all this art stuff.”

That about changed everything. You were more than eager to teach your Baba a new skill, feeling quite proud of yourself being the highest authority on art in the family now that Steve was away. You tore a page out of your sketchbook and placed it on the coffee table in front of Bucky. Then, grinning mischievously, you dumped your bucket of markers out onto the table. Bucky’s eyes widened at the mess, knowing it would more than likely be him cleaning it up when you were finished, but this was simply part of your artistic process.

“It's good to have all the colors in front of you so you know which one to use next!” You explained.

Bucky didn’t see why you couldn’t have all the markers in front of you in the bucket, but he decided it was best not to argue with an expert. You picked up your first color, dark green, and motioned for your Baba to do the same. You’d easily decided on a simple topic for his first picture, something simple. A scene in the park. It had all the components of a classic coloring picture: trees, grass, birds, butterflies, and anything else your heart desired.

Once you explained the concept to Bucky, the two of you got to work. Your face down, you were laser focussed on your own artwork. You never once popped your little head up to check on Bucky’s progress. The same couldn’t be said for him, however. Your Baba glanced over every few minutes, smiling to himself at your concentrated face, tongue poking slightly out of your lips as you determinedly colored in each blade of grass and tree leaf. If only he could get you to focus this hard on cleaning your room. Only when you’d finally completed your work did you break your concentration, setting down your final marker with a flourish as you looked up expectantly at Bucky, waiting for the praises to start.

But something caught your eye.

Bucky’s sheet of paper, sitting just in front of him on the table, was an explosion of colors. Abstract shapes swirled into the familiar forms of trees and flowers, but only when you squinted. The sky was purple, the grass was red, the trees burst with fiery orange leaves. Your brow furrowed; this art was gorgeous, but it made no sense.

“You drawed that?” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah, you like it, babydoll?” Bucky asked proudly.

“It's so pretty and crazy!” You said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Bucky chuckled. “Is that a good thing?”

You nodded eagerly, not wanting him to think you were insulting his talent.

“How did you even think of that, Baba?” You asked, shocked at his unconventional approach. It had never occurred to you to portray things in a way other than what you considered normal. Bucky had opened a whole new world for you.

“I don’t really know, it just came to me.” He replied modestly. “Do you wanna try?”

Bucky offered up a clean sheet of paper to you.

When Steve came home a few hours later, he wasn’t greeted at the door as usual with a kiss from Bucky and you jumping into his arms. Normally your absence would make his heart race, but it only took him a minute to turn the corner and see the two of you, his husband and his precious baby, working hard together over a piece of paper. A rainbow rendition of Steve’s famous shield, the star in the center made up of tiny swirls and dots. He already knew he’d treasure this masterpiece forever.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!stucky #marvel agere #agere fic #cg!bucky #bucky barnes x little!reader #chloe's fic #🩰

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sambuckylibrary · 1 year ago

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TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024

The @sambuckylibrary will be holding a The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Anniversary Event! The event will start on March 18th and run until April 28th. During that time, we will be reblogging and sharing the work you guys create here on our blog.

This event is not just for the creators, but for the commenters. You can post fanfiction, art, moodboards, edits, podfics, fic list recs, comments, etc. It’ll be a low-stakes event. No need to sign up. Just remember to tag @sambuckylibary in your post for each fill, and we will be tracking #tfatwsanniversary2024 for reblogs.

If you are posting on AO3, please add it toTFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Collection.

Each week will have a different theme with prompts from Monday to Friday. Each prompt will also come with a badge you may use for it when you post. The weekly themes and their prompts will be:

For the text version of the information above as well as the FAQ and rules, check the information under “keep reading”.

WEEK 1 (March 18 - 24): THE WINTER SOLDIER TO PRE-INFINITY WAR

MONDAY: “I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”

TUESDAY: Sam Searches for Bucky

WEDNESDAY: “Can you move your seat up?”

THURSDAY: Team Up at the Airport

FRIDAY: On the Run

WEEK 2 (March 25 - 31) : INFINITY WAR TO PRE-TFATWS

MONDAY: Laying Low

TUESDAY: Reunite in Wakanda

WEDNESDAY: Soul Stone

THURSDAY: Victory Party

FRIDAY: 6 Months of Ghosting

WEEK 3 (April 1 - 7): The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

MONDAY: Couple's Therapy

TUESDAY: “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical.”

WEDNESDAY: Madripoor

THURSDAY: “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

FRIDAY: The Cookout

WEEK 4 (April 8 - 14): Post-TFATWS

MONDAY: Meanwhile, on the Boat...

TUESDAY: Divorce Arc

WEDNESDAY: Skrulls

THURSDAY: Better Thunderbolts Ideas

FRIDAY: Better Captain America 4 Ideas

WEEK 5 (April 15 - 21): AU Week

MONDAY: No Powers AU

TUESDAY: Period Piece

WEDNESDAY: Sci-fi/Fantasy AU

THURSDAY: Based on a Movie

FRIDAY: Ghost/Zombie AU

WEEK 6 (April 22 - 28): Sambucky Week

MONDAY: Didn’t Know They were Dating/Friends with Benefits

TUESDAY: Redwing

WEDNESDAY: Hurt/Comfort

THURSDAY: Separate, Long Vacations

FRIDAY: Dealer's Choice

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a SamBucky event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all five prompts that week at once with one piece of art or fic. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Is it just SamBucky?

Yes please, just SamBucky. There can be side ships, but the main ship should be SamBucky.

How long will this event run?

It will run from March 18th and run until April 28th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There are! You can find the badges here.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the bingo?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to @sambuckylibrary in the post as well as #tfatwsanniversary2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 (TFATWS_Anniversary_Event_2024).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least five fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to your TFATWS Anniversary fics!

- The Mods

#tfatwsanniversary2024 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #sambucky fan event #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fan art #sambucky edit #sambucky moodboard #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier fan event #tfatws fan event #mod: thatmexisaurusrex

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ramp-it-up · 2 days ago

Note

THAT WINK THAT WINK THAT WINK😩

https://www.tumblr.com/skarsgards-bill/776951946088235008/sebastian-stan-on-the-red-carpet-at-the-97th?source=share

Wondering what Frumoasa reaction would be to this👀

Hey Nonnie, Nonnie!

I'm sorry I waited so long that the post is gone, but I assume you're referring to this?

Well. This ask did it to me. 😅

Forgive me for what I'm about to do.

But I hope you like it. 😏

Read Make It So

#ask dj #kyd ask #knock you down ask #dj will answer #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #art dealer!bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob!bucky #knock you down verse

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adamwatchesmovies · 1 year ago

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Disco Godfather (1979)

Disco Godfather is the most competent of Rudy Ray Moore’s 1970s films. For anyone else, that would be a selling point. For an actor of dubious talent whose fans mostly like him because his movies are accidentally funny, it's a warning. While this action film has some chuckle-worthy scenes and a few pleasant surprises, it’s overwhelmingly dull.

When Bucky (Julius J. Carry III) gets wacked out on angel dust and hospitalized, his uncle Tucker Williams (Rudy Ray Moore), a retired police detective turned rapper/disco club owner, decides to take down the drug dealers who got his nephew hooked. After repeated, failed attempts to make his way up the chain to the boss behind it all, Williams suspects someone in the department can’t be trusted.

Even before the film begins, there are dark clouds ahead. Did that screen just say "Rated PG"?. Yes, this film was made before the creation of the PG-13 rating but all of Moore’s other films had a lot of cursing and sleazy nudity. You might even say it was a selling point. Of course he isn’t actually playing Dolemite or Petey Wheatstraw (same character, really) but you expect someone called "The Disco Godfather" to be juggling a half-dozen women at least. When you realize he isn't, you brace yourself for the worst.

Moore’s other trademarks are all here. There are plenty of "martial arts" action scenes, each less convincing than the last. The punches and kicks are so slow it couldn’t be more obvious that none of them connect. Even if they did, none would cause anyone any kind of injury. As before, you already have a hard time believing Moore’s character would take down any opponent but director J. Robert Wagoner could’ve tried a little harder!

As for the performances, this is where the movie gets more enjoyable (for the wrong reasons). Take a drink every time you think "this person has to be the worst actor in this movie" and you’ll be dead from alcohol poisoning an hour in. There isn’t a convincing line delivery anywhere, and the wooden reactions are made even worse by the horrendous screenplay. At one point, two thugs attack Tucker in his office. He narrowly fends them off and they run away. From the same corridor comes his secretary, acting as if two bruised and bloodied assassinsrunning past her is the most normal thing she’s seen all day. And of course, Tucker doesn’t call the police or report this. I know what you’re thinking, "It’s because he knows there’s a rat in the precinct" but does he think it’s his former best friend Lt. Frank Hayes (Frank Finn)? How could he when the culprit is the most shifty-eyed, forehead-drenched-with-sweat, crooked-cop-if-I’ve-ever-seen-one ever?

Fans of failed cinema will also enjoy the scenes in which Disco Godfather turns into a wannabe Reefer Madness. While PCP isn’t as "harmless" as marijuana, the recovering addicts are so over-the-top you can’t stop yourself from laughing. The testimonies from the worried parents and former addicts preaching to the at-risk youths can’t be taken seriously. The slogan "Attack the Whack" is too goofy to be effective. It takes all of your willpower not to yell "Wiggedy whack!" whenever someone says something or someone is "whack". You might just explode when you hear it accidentally switched to "Whack the Attack". Then, there’s a so-called testimony from a former victim of angel dust and her speech… is NOTHING! It’s treated as an emotional reflection of a difficult life but it sounds like a placeholder that was meant to be swapped out!

The last enjoyable element of the picture are the psychedellic scenes. The special effects range from bad… to really bad. Some of the drug-induced demons we see make the orcs in Ralph Bakshi’s "The Lord of the Rings" look like the ones in Peter Jackson’s films. It comes out of a nowhere so profound and so surprising your face will be stuck in a permanent confused look.

All of this makes Disco Godfather sound like fun if you like bad movies. It would be if all of the boring bits were edited out and only the wackiest scenes remained. Unfortunately, there is indeed a plot and it's so generic it might as well be the first template you get from a free screenwriting software. The characters are so flat, the overall product so predictable and lackluster that you’ll be bored for about 75% of the running time. You’ll remember Moore’s saying "Put your weight on it!" (I still don’t know what that actually means) but little else about Disco Godfather. (June 25, 2021)

#Disco Godfather #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #J. Robert Wagoner #Cliff Roquemore #Rudy Ray Moore #Carol Speed #1979 movies #1979 films

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criesinliess · 3 years ago

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━JANUARY 2022; susan's recs

MARVEL

━━BUCKY BARNES

voicemails @lovelybarnes

the right partner @bucky-bucket-barnes

sunflower @mollygetssherlockcoffee

you still get burned; however small; where there's smoke; there's fire @indyluckycharlie

choices @subwaysurf45

miracle, baby; part 2; part 3 @nexusnyx

name day @↑

crawl home to her @↑

location: westview @↑

━━DRUIG

that regulars friend @contentconsumer

SPIDER-MAN

━━ANDREW!PETER PARKER

you aren’t gwen @thebrookelupin

two sides; part 2; part 3; part 4 @sunny-reys

you love me, i love you @rintsuru

rhythm @irndad

attention @caramelcal

cookies and wounded vigilante @scandalous-chaos

spiderman's in love! source: trust me @↑

modern art @↑

caviar and cigarettes @↑

tulips to kiss you with @↑

right where you left me; part 2; part 3; part 4; part 5; part 6; part 7 @loeyparker

one in the same @finnwrld

polaroids @sunnymaybank

best friends @ptersparkers

gratitude @eunoiathewriter

the first fall of snow @lupinbrekker

mission i'm possibly in love with you @agnesamarantheastwood

━━FRANCO!HARRY OSBORN!

forgive me @fqjth

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

whipped @ptersparkers

HARRY POTTER

━━DRACO MALFOY

protectors @tea-at-the-magicshop

perfect prefect @dracowars

one bed, two enemies @↑

MARAUDER'S ERA

━━REMUS LUPIN

twilight and full moons @scandalous-chaos

━━JAMES POTTER

mortal enemies @scandalous-chaos

saudade @gotkindabored

━━SIRIUS BLACK

back home @scandalous-chaos

dreaming of you @gotkindabored

━━REGULUS BLACK

drunk nights; part 2 @scandalous-chaos

wishes and a gift @↑

the best man @↑

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

silent birthdays @sunnymaybank

nightmares @fishley

━━JESPER FAHEY

let's groove tonight @genyaakostyk

to climb @↑

ON MY BLOCK

━━OSCAR DIAZ

claim @biisexualemma

admit it @↑

nervous @↑

drunk @↑

family first @↑

good enough @↑

always you @↑

boys ain't shit @↑

ENCANTO

━━CAMILO MADRIGAL

shape-shifting frolics; part 2 @radiorenjun

TEEN WOLF

━━ISAAC LAHEY

(not) jealous @sunny-reys

DIVERGENT

━━FOUR

the replacement @sunny-reys

lies @↑

EUPHORIA

━━FEZCO

hugs from your dealer @bubblegumspacebxtch

trust the dealer @↑

she's a good girl @satanhalsey

the trials and tribulations of a dealer @vyserion

cold cuts in the moonlight @goldenxbby

then dream girl walks in @↑

godspeed; part 2 @nexusnyx

angels & demons @↑

alone with you; part 2 @↑

on cloud nine @sargeant-bxrnes

soul sucker @superhoeva

━━ELLIOT

interrogate @eunoiathewriter

do you like her @↑

unconditionall @cryonme

we belong together @ineedcoffeeandcrystalrocks

#susan's recs #fic recs #bucky barnes x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #franco!harry osborn x reader #jj maybank x reader #draco malfoy x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #regulus black x reader #kaz brekker x reader #oscar diaz x reader #camilo madrigal x reader #isaac lahey x reader #four x reader #fezco x reader #elliot x reader

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years ago

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Bucky Barnes Smut!

Hey there! Welcome to the smutty corner of my blog. These are all my scandalous Bucky Barnes fics. Please note that some of these are implied smut or smut-adjacent because when I first started writing I was to awkward to write smut.

Find my Ko-Fi here! 💘

Anything But Clothes | There’s an undeniable romantic, sexual chemistry between you and your best friend Bucky, but he won’t make a move. When your birthday rolls around, you have an idea to push him in the right direction.

Alternative Medicine | Your anxiety seemed to plague you no matter what you did, until you try a different way of managing it…with Bucky’s help.

Body Art | Bucky comes back into town after being on the run and wants you to meet him at a motel. When he opens the door, you’re greeted by a pierced, tattooed version of Bucky that stirs something in you.

Codeword | Bucky is just looking too good at a party one night, and you can’t wait until you get home to get your hands all over him.

Defiant | Bucky hates when you defy his orders, especially when it means putting your life in danger. After a perilous mission, he teaches you a lesson about disobeying him.

Dream Come True | Bucky rushes to your room when he hears you scream, but what he finds isn’t what he expected.

Good Morning | While sharing a room with Bucky after a mission, something comes up between the two of you. Literally.

In Harm’s Way | A search for intel leads you and Bucky to a swanky party at the home of a notorious arms dealer. When a distraction is needed for the sake of the mission, you put yourself in danger-much to Bucky’s dismay.

Mine | Bucky gets home from a long mission and wants to mark you up so that everyone knows you belong to him.

The Naked Truth | While staying in a safe house post-mission, Bucky learns something rather interesting about you.

Scratching Post | Bucky is mesmerized by your long nails, and can’t contain his dirty thoughts.

Secret Weapon | Bucky gets an idea when the two of you have to go to Tony’s birthday party and it keeps you on the edge of your seat all night.

Shiver (Sequel to Play Pretend) | The connection between you and your fake boyfriend Bucky is undeniable, so you bring him back to your apartment.

Snowed In | an unexpected storm turns your group vacation into a one on one for you and Bucky. Stranded in a secluded cabin, the two of you become closer than ever.

Steal You Away | At your first Avengers party, you meet a handsome stranger sitting alone at the bar, and you’re shocked to find out his true identity. The connection is undeniable, so you join him outside for some alone time.

Sting | (Part three of Scratching Post) After an intense romp in Bucky’s bed, the two of you continue the fun in his shower.

Stripes (sequel to Scratching Post) | The feeling of your nails against Bucky’s skin drives him crazy, and he has to have you right now.

Touch Me There (inspired by Touch Me There by Emma Holzer) | Bucky rushes home after he gets a text from you, and he’s met with a pleasant surprise.

Truth or Dare | A game of truth or dare with the team leads you to revealing something embarrassing, but Bucky helps you fix it.

What are Friends For? | A casual conversation leads to Bucky telling you a secret that you absolutely have to fix for him.

Find my Bucky fluff here 🥰

Find my Bucky angst here 💔

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pellucid-constellations · 4 years ago

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The Shot Heard Round the Tower

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You just want to know if Bucky has feelings for you. Bucky just wants you to be okay.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Canon level violence, some angst

a/n: I’m so excited to start writing!! WOOO. This now has a part 2 which you can read here!

Masterlist

Being a secretary was never your first choice. You went to college, bounced around a few majors, tried to “find yourself”, but nothing ever really stuck. So yeah, being a secretary was never your first choice, but nothing else really was either. It’s not like it really mattered, you were good at your job. In fact, after just a few short months, your meger front desk position at the Avengers tower was promoted. Numerous late nights picking up the slack for your coworkers to avoid the empty apartment waiting for you a few blocks away, had piqued the interest of none other than Tony Stark.

It started off with small things. Grabbing him a late night coffee from that 24 joint two streets over. Cutting out those paper valentines shaped like Captain America’s shield for the children’s hospital the team was planning to visit. Going down to Tony’s lab at 10pm to hold a wrench for him because, “You’re the only one here, kid.”

It wasn’t until you suddenly found yourself walking home, clutching a binder to your chest filled with Tony’s engagements for the week, that you finally agreed to manage the team. Tony had asked you five times prior to your realization.

It was daunting to meet the team. Most of them received you well, but it took others a little longer to fully trust you. This is to be expected, you reminded yourself—after the second month of enduring Natasha’s careful glances—they are trained for this after all.

It took about six months before you finally felt like walking into work was more like walking into a room of your friends. Everyone began treating you as their own. Sam would tease you when you would complain to the team that they still hadn’t completed the forms you needed last week. Steve was constantly looking to you to explain apps on his oh so complicated iphone. Wanda took you to lunch your first week in the upper levels of the tower, bonding with you over many late night movies. Nat found herself seeing you as a friend she could trust. Tony was, well Tony, and Bruce and Clint were always kind to you.

But Bucky. You could never figure him out, even after a full year of planning his calendar and doing copious amounts of his paperwork. You obviously had a fat crush on him. The first few months working for the Avengers you could hardly even hold a conversation with him, stuttering and feeling your face warm an embarrassing amount.

He was always kind to you, but there was a reservation there you couldn’t place. He would brush his hand against your arm in the kitchen when you would bring in whatever baked good concoction you whipped up, but then he wouldn’t make eye contact when you asked him for his birth certificate to renew his passport. Bucky was an enigma, but the butterflies in your stomach didn’t seem to care that you had no idea if he was interested in you or not.

You’re late. In your defense, Tony asked you to pick up some paperwork from an art dealer clear across the city before coming in, but you were still late. You burst through the doors of the tower, scan your clearance badge at the elevator kiosk, and quickly jab the button for the top floor. The papers in your hands were practically overflowing and you found yourself cursing Tony for whatever piece of art required 90 pages of documentation. Not to mention the bag digging into your shoulder, filled to the brim with some redesign work Sam was doing on Redwing. You do not get paid enough for this. Except, yeah you do. You are just a mess today.

The doors slide open to the luxurious floor you work on and you huff your way in without a second thought. Straight into Bucky Barnes. Papers go flying to the floor, along with your pride and probably about 10 pens that find their way out of your bag.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” He exclaims, his arms reaching out to steady you as you nearly topple over the mess you made. There’s that touching again. Your ears burn as you take in the scene.

“No fire. Just my day crashing and burning around me and it’s not even 9 o’clock,” you sigh, bending over to collect your belongings as he follows suit.

“Come on sweetheart, it can’t be all that bad. We got those people coming, remember? You’ve been talkin’ about them for weeks now. Don’t let...” He grabs a paper from the ground and furrows his brows.“Todd Windenhiemer’s painting of some cat sitting on a stool get you down.” His confusion brings a laugh to your lips, your mood instantly brightening.

You know who he’s talking about, and you are actually looking forward to it. A group from the Smithsonian is coming to get some videos of the team for their new Avengers exhibit. It’s going to be an offshoot of the Captain America one, and much smaller, but you have a strange love for museums and have visited Steve and Bucky’s display more than once. You’re a little surprised Bucky remembers you’re excited for them to come; it’s not that he doesn’t listen to you, but you just didn’t think that was on his list of things to keep in the back of his mind.

“What, you don’t think you would want to hang this up in your room?” You quip back at him, pointing at the smaller image of the much larger painting currently in the mail. “I think it’s rather tasteful.” He glances at you through his lashes, a small smile on his face.

“Sorry y/n, I think I’m gonna have to pass on that one. Here let’s get this cleaned up before Sam comes runnin’ through here and dirties up all your papers.” He quickly gathers the rest of your belongings and hands them off to you as you stand, hands brushing yours. “Well let me know when to come by for the uh, videos and whatnot. I’m gonna be down at the gym for most of the day.” He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours with his lip pulled between his teeth.

“Sure thing, Buck! Probably around three, but I can send out a reminder.” You go to place your hand on his arm to thank him for helping you, when Sam does indeed come running through the hallway. He spots the two of you in front of the elevator and gives you a dazzling smile.

“Hey y/n, just the lady I was looking for! You got my blueprints in that magic bag of yours?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Bucky was just helping me because they went flying everywhere but I think—” Your words are cut off by the ding of the elevator, signalling that Bucky was now making his way down to the gym without so much as a goodbye. Such an enigma. You blink and turn back to Sam. “Um, yes I do have the plans. They kinda flew everywhere so they might not be in order, but they should definitely all be there.” Sam looks at you with a knowing smirk.

“Barnes just ditch ya?”

“I mean I guess so. The conversation was technically over, but… well I don’t know, I thought we were having a moment or something. You keep telling me he likes me but then he runs away like that. I think I gotta give up, Sam. I’m feeling a bit pathetic at this point.”

“No y/n, listen to me. Barnes never shuts up about you. It gets a little annoying to be honest. I already gotta see your face all day and then you leave and I’m still hearing about it!” You look down at your shoes. “There is no way that man doesn't like you. He’s just being an idiot about it. Give him a little more time. The guy hasn’t had to woo a lady since the 40’s.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Take your blueprints and get outta here. I wouldn’t want to offend you by showing my face for too long.” He laughs, whisking them out of your hands and making his way to the elevator that has offended you far too much this morning.

You make your way through the tower to Tony’s office, dropping off his strange artwork documents and leaving him a note to be back in the common area by three for the Smithsonian people. Your office is just one door down, and you quickly find a home inside to begin your work for the day.

There’s a dictionary-sized stack of papers from Steve that apparently needs to be filed under their damage reports from the last mission. The smiley face he adds to the bottom only lessens the blow a little bit. Peter, your newly appointed client, has to get a minor’s work permit to be an “intern” at Stark Industries. Natasha has about 50 emails from different important people asking her to come to benefits and charity events you know she will decline. You hope you can get her to go to a couple; offering to join her will make her much more likely to agree.

It’s about 2:30 when you get a message from the front desk that the museum interviewers are here. You send out an announcement through Friday to have everyone come to the main floor in 15 minutes once you’ve had the chance to set up their crew and double check that they brought appropriate questions. You smooth down your outfit and put on your best smile as you make your way to the room they’ve arrived in.

The pain doesn’t register until you’re already against the wall. Something slamming against your head puts you in a daze as your nose is brutally smashed against the glass wall of the kitchen. Nothing is making sense and the buzzing in your ears makes it too loud to even think.

“They really just let anyone in here, don’t they.” A mouth is pressed against your ear, the words pouring in against your will. You can feel the blood from your nose running down to your lips. “Earth’s mightiest heroes really need a better security protocol.” He sounds deranged, whoever this man is. His hands are calloused and rough against your wrists as he pushes you harder and harder against the glass panes.

You try to remember what Steve taught you from the times Bucky convinced you to come down to the gym and learn some self-defense. Bucky wouldn’t do it himself, insisting that he would hurt you and that all he wanted to do was “make sure you know a little somethin’ to keep you safe, doll.” He stood outside of the ring and watched as Steve walked you through about a dozen maneuvers. How can you not remember any of them? It’s as if panic has swept in and frozen your entire body making you unable to think—unable to even breathe.

Something cold presses against your neck as he shifts both of your wrists into one of his much larger hands. The panic you felt before is nothing compared to the dread that consumes you when you realize it’s a gun. You are going to die in the Avenger’s kitchen because you can’t remember anything Steve taught you, anything Bucky insisted you had drilled into your memory.

“I was an Avenger once you know. So strong and powerful. Like Captain America and all of his Howling Commandos in the museum. They always tell me that, you know. That I deserved to be one of them. The one with the blue jacket, his name is James, he looks at me from that picture and tells me to come here. To come and be a part of the team.

“But those stupid bitches that sit at the front never believe me. They tell me they ‘sent a message to James and he says he doesn’t know you’. They lie!” He screams with seething malice and slams you against the wall with such force that the blood from your nose drips to the floor. You let out a harrowing sob. Where is everyone? Where is Bucky?

“So I waited for an opening. Waited for a time to come and take my rightful place on this team. I’ve waited years! So many long, long years. Until I overheard a little conversation you were having at the museum. I’m there all the time you see. Steve and James like when I visit them. You set up a little meeting here at the tower. You were wearing that little yellow dress. Had that tag around your neck with the towers symbol on it. I knew you were my in. My way to join my family.

“But it’s just been so long. And I’m so angry. I’m not strong like how I used to be. Lost my powers after they took me to that hospital with all the fuzzy voices. I want to hurt everyone that has wronged me. Starting with my team.”

Throughout his speech, you begin to lose hope. You don’t think you’ll be able to get through to him. He believes he’s enhanced. Believes Bucky and Steve call out for him at the Smithsonian. A strangled gasp falls from your mouth. You can’t fight your way out of this, but maybe you could talk?

“I know James,” you begin, tasting the blood on your lips. “He-he tells me about you. He says he waits for you to come almost every day. Knows how strong you are. He wouldn’t want you to hurt me. Wouldn’t want you to hurt anybody. You’re a hero and heroes, they save people.” This seems to enrage him further.

“You think I’m still the man that could fight crime alongside the Commandos? They took everything from me at that hospital! Found a way to drain it out. I’m going to drain you out too.” The barrel of the gun presses harder to your head. Breath escapes you. Everything escapes you. The elevator dings as the doors open.

Frightened, the man pushes his arm away with a startling noise, and a deafening bang is followed by shattering glass. He shot out the wall from in front of you. You scream as the realization of near death enters your mind, but it is soon quelled as you are whipped around in his arms to face the new arrivals.

The look of devastation is clear on Bucky's face as he takes in the scene, Natasha directly behind him. You look absolutely ruined with blood running down your face, your hair in disarray, and clear bruises forming along your cheekbones. Your lips form his name and that devastation turns to fear and anger. Natasha pulls out a gun from her waistband, but you are harshly shoved in front of your assailant and block any shot she could make.

“Who are you?” Nat commands, her voice steady.

“He knows who I am. Don’t you James? Tell her who I am.” You wish he would have said anything else. Bucky’s past is still so confusing to him. This man could have been lost inside of his head, a Hydra agent just trying to swim to the surface. You look into Bucky’s eyes and give the smallest shake of your head.

“Come on Buck, you know him. You talk to him just about every day at the Smithsonian. He’s so strong re-remember?” Your voice shakes, your entire body shakes. Natasha looks to you in utter confusion and you’ve never tried so hard to convey something with your eyes.

“Right,” Bucky states, never taking his eyes off you. “Of course I know you. I’m glad you came. How about you let my girl go and we can talk about this yeah? She doesn’t need to be part of it.” His declaration would have set you aflame in any other situation, but here it brings you agony. Bucky’s hand shakes as he reaches out for you. His eyes plead. “Give her to me, pal. It’ll be just us talkin’.”

“It’s too late for that!” He screams in a fit of rage. Another sob rips through your body. “I lost it! I have nothing anymore. I know what happens to people who break into this place. Prison. All I have left is hurting the people that have hurt me. She’s part of you. She goes down too.” Bucky can’t let that happen. Not to you. Not to the one that gives him your favorite tea bags when you leave every weekend, just because he said it helped him sleep once. The one who looked up recipes from that 40s cookbook for him and Steve to try. The one who lets him do his paperwork in that stupid fountain pen that bleeds through too much because that’s what he’s used to. You’re so sweet and thoughtful and kind, and he was so close to telling you that. So close to making you his.

Bucky takes one more step forward.

“Move and she dies.” The gun is somehow colder against your face. You look at Bucky and there is absolutely nothing any of you can do. Unshed tears hold firm in his waterline as he opens and closes his mouth, trying to formulate some attempt at saving your life. You want to tell him it’s okay. That it’ll be okay, even if you end up not. Neither of you get a chance to do anything as the back window overlooking the skyline bursts into pieces and a shield comes hurtling into the back of the man's head.

You’re dropped to the floor, your hands and knees now covered in glass as more blood flows freely from your body. Bucky runs to you, scooping you into his arms and whispering into your ear that you're okay, you’re going to be fine. You stare down at your bloody hands in a daze, completely unaware of the fight and arrest taking place just paces away from you. Bucky drops his hands to your face and pulls your eyes up to his.

“Sweetheart, look at me. You’re okay, right? Where does it hurt? Come on, off your knees.” He pulls you into his lap and his metal hand begins meticulously pulling shards from your knees. “Say something for me, Doll. I know that was a lot, but you gotta let me know you’re okay. I can’t make it better till you tell me.”

“I’m okay, Bucky.” You don’t sound okay, but he’ll take it. He presses his lips to your hairline and pulls you into his arms as he stands. He glances back at Steve who gives him a firm nod, and you are pulled into the elevator and brought to medical. He glares and makes a quick exit when Tony knocks on the glass minutes later, startling you.

Multiple people surround you. Checking for a concussion, pulling the glass out of your skin, stitching up deeper cuts. When Bucky returns, he stands in the corner and makes comments when he feels they are being too rough, not thorough enough. You are finally left alone after about 2 hours of being poked and prodded, saying nothing during the process. Bucky comes over and kneels between your legs hanging over the bed, grabbing your hands gently.

“Tony said they heard the gunshot from the elevator. He had it directed to the floor below and looked at the cameras. He flew Stevie up to the window and that’s how we got ya out.” His voice is so soft that if you think hard enough, you think you might miss it. “You were so brave, doll. I can’t tell you how brave you were. Gettin’ me to understand what was goin’ on so quickly.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” Is all you can get out. You feel tears of shame start to build up behind your eyes. This is the first thing you’ve said in two hours and it leaves Bucky beyond confused.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart? You did everything right. I should be sorry. If I had come sooner when you called then maybe I coulda done more.”

“I couldn’t remember anything Steve taught me. I couldn’t defend myself at all. I’m sorry I wasted all your time. I just-” You can’t choke out the rest. Bucky shushes you softly and wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on your head.

“No, y/n you did so well. It’s hard when it’s real like that. If I was caught off guard like you were, I wouldn’t have been able to react. Helping you train was not a waste of my time. You are never a waste of time. Doll I-I really care about you. I would do just about anything for ya. Seeing you like that today, hearing you scream. It felt like I was dying.” You look up at him with wide eyes. He cups your face in his hands.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say that. Sorry I had to say it when all this is goin’ on. I just can’t let the opportunity slip away again. I can’t have you not knowing how I feel. Knowing how amazing you are.” You cut him off with your lips. The kiss is warm and sweet and Bucky takes a deep, surprised breath before deepening it. All of the pent up pinning from the past year goes into the way your lips mold together and the way his fingers gently caress your checks. He pulls apart with a breathy laugh and learns his forehead on yours.

“I take it that means you feel the same way.”

“Without a doubt, Bucky. Been waiting for you to do that forever,” you reply.

“Sorry for making you wait, Doll. Will never happen again. I swear it.” He presses another kiss to your cheek.

“Does this mean you’ll be the one training me from now on? I think Steve went a little too easy on me.”

“Doll, I wanna do everything with you. All the time.”

Part 2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine

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simmerandwrite · 1 year ago

Text

Sink Into Me - 07 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size!reader

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

Wordcount: 7.9k

Warnings: some violence in this one, vague references to drugging at a club (not to reader), feelings

Notes: thank you for your patience, beautiful people!! let's goooo.

---

If Steve looked inward for more than a spare second, he could unpack the heavy feelings that sat on his chest. But, he wouldn’t allow himself even that miniscule moment in time to think. Instead, it suddenly made way more sense to throw himself into work - from selling buildings to working on art curation to all the dirty things he did behind the scenes. If he wasn’t working, he was sleeping or working out or drinking at Shield.

On this particular day, he was taking care of new business.

“What did we fucking say about selling this shit in Brooklyn?”

Steve almost felt bad for the guy he was slamming his fist into. Steve had absolutely broken his nose, maybe cracked his jaw.

But, Steve had the upper hand here. The shithead was tied up to a metal chair, in the basement of one of Steve’s oldest properties.

Thor had picked the guy up selling products near Brighton Beach. It was the third idiot working for Rumlow that had been caught crossing boundaries and pushing their new formula. It was one thing to not converse with Steve and confirm his cut. It was another to prey on high school kids.

Steve reached for the guy's collar. “Do you need a reminder?”

He growled under Steve’s fist. “Your precious kingdom is going to crumble.” The man sucked in a breath and leaned forward, spitting a mournful of blood at Steve.

Although electricity was climbing through every inch of Steve’s body, he remained stoic. Slowly, he wiped off the remnants of blood from his neck and shirt. Then Steve took in a sharp breath and delivered a kick to the man’s chest, sending the chair stumbling backward to the ground. With a clap of his hands, he turned around and pointed at Thor and Bucky. Both men were watching from the doorway of the dingy basement.

“Call your brother and tell him to peel this man apart for information about Rumlow’s operation.” Steve planted a hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“I’m on it, boss. But Loki will want cash and—”

“Pay him whatever he needs.” Steve finished off, confirming with a nod before leaving with Bucky. “Make sure he gets rid of the body afterwards.”

Bucky remained silent as he followed Steve up the stairs, matching his pace as they headed towards an awaiting car outside. It wasn’t until they were well on their way back to the club, in the thick of traffic that Bucky spoke up.

“You good?”

Steve, who had been staring out the window, turned his head back to his friend. “I’m fine.”

“Because usually you let the boys get dirty.” Bucky pointed out the remaining marks of blood that littered Steve’s chest. “And calling in Laufeyson..”

“I want to clean up this fucking mess that’s found it’s way into our streets, Bucky. Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. Don’t fucking yell at me, too. Christ. You’re wound up because you made a mistake. Don’t take it out on us.”

Steve didn’t even bother replying. Because Bucky was right.

Steve was angry. At himself.

God, you were grateful for your friends. If you didn’t have them in your corner, you knew that everything with Steve might have sunk you down way further than you wanted. In fact, you knew damn well that if you let yourself slow down and think for a few minutes, the pain you had been so easy to dismiss might come roaring back to life.

But, there wasn't time to slow down. Not when your evenings became a delicate balance of work, walking Hercules then meeting up for some sort of exciting activity in the city.

Pietro certainly had a penchant for finding fun things to do. Somehow he had a better pulse of the city than you and your friends who actually lived there. Your group chat was constantly buzzing with suggestions about markets to check out or special nights at certain bars or clubs or after party events with Pietro’s coworkers.

It was a welcome distraction most days. But other days, all you wanted to do was have a pity party on your own. Even though you knew you deserved better than the way Steve had called things off, part of you kept wondering about how it all played out. One night after a night out with your friends and one too many glasses of white wine, you had gone into a deep, dark Instagram spiral.

Steve himself didn’t have any kind of personal social media presence. But someone managed one for his gallery and another one for Shield too. You scrolled through every post for a glimpse of him and every time some version of him showed up in a photo, your heart got a little more cracked open.

Once you made it through the entire main feed of images, you dug deeper. The tagged photos for Shield had plenty of activity, including a recent slew of images from a weekend event at the club. One photo had Steve in it - you were sure, though he wasn’t facing the camera. It was in the background of some beautiful brunette’s photo and you knew it was upstairs in one of the VIP areas of Shield.

You were going crazy over it. Why did he have to end it the way he did? How come you didn’t get any other conversation or closure over the whole thing?

After a long day at work and an extra long walk home with Hercules, you had decided it was time for a night in. Thankfully you hadn’t heard any activity in the group chat all day, so you were very much looking forward to some time on the couch with your favourite bowl of pasta.

Just as you got home, a crack of thunder sounded out and you knew a summer storm was imminent. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone who romanticized the rain - in fact, you hated thunderstorms. Since childhood you had connected storms to danger and darkness, and although now you were at home safe in your own apartment, you had never felt more alone and unsettled.

You remedied the uncomfortable feelings as best as you could - quickly calling your mother to talk while you made dinner. And when you had finally plated your food, you dropped onto the couch with Hercules and sent out an SOS to the group chat.

Claire was at work. Maria was at home uptown in Manhattan, waiting out the storm. And Wanda revealed she was out on a date with Vision, hiding out from the rain at some lavish restaurant uptown.

You groaned. Your lights flickered.

In an attempt to calm down, you tried to lose yourself in some reruns of your favourite show. It wasn’t working very well - especially with an anxious Hercules at your side who was not enjoying the storm outside, either.

Looks like you had to be the strong one, for the sake of your son.

“We’re gonna be okay, buddy,” you cooed as you cuddled in close to Hercules. “This storm shall pass or whatever.”

Your moment of wisdom was cut off when your phone started to buzz on the coffee table. You picked it up to see Pietro’s face on the screen.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey!” He called out on the other end of the phone. You could hear the rain. “I’m a block away. Please tell me you have dry towels?”

You stood up and shook your head, confused. Had you made plans that you forgot about? Most weeknights Pietro was at the restaurant until close and–

“Wanda said you hate storms and we lost power at the restaurant. So I’m coming over to hang! I have desserts.”

He didn’t even let you argue, doubling down on the rain and how he wanted to hang out. It was strange though - of course you considered Pietro your friend, you just had never hung out one on one before. You hadn’t really assumed you were friends like that - moreso that you were friends with Wanda and he came along with that transaction. But you really enjoyed being around him. Pietro’s extraversion benefited you regularly and well, you definitely did not want to be alone in the storm anyway.

You greeted Pietro at the door with a dry towel, although his was in good spirits despite his damp clothing.

“You didn’t have to come over,” you told him as you unpacked the paperbag he had brought from the restaurant. “I’m surviving.”

“Sure. But who else can I talk to about this boring philosophical PhD my sister is dating again?” Pietro flashed you his signature charming smile, peeling off his wet sweater and following your arms to toss it in your dryer. “What kind of name is Vision anyway?”

“I only met him once or twice,” you replied with a small smirk. “They really hit it off - though she never said why they had ruptured in the first place.”

“Well, as her older brother, I’m cautious. I deserve to know about the guy, it’s giving me even more grey hair to think about her dealing with some dumb man.”

You laughed. “Aren’t you like - 10 minutes older?”

“Twelve, actually.” He turned and headed back towards the counter. “This is for you by the way - packaged up by M’Baku himself.”

Glancing down at the to-go box, containing a particularly delectable slice of cheesecake, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “What?”

On more than one occasion you, Wanda and occasionally Maria or Claire had headed to the restaurant past closing to hang out while Pietro and his coworkers finished up for the evening. Mostly you sat at the bar and sipped on a cocktail while the kitchen crew finished up. A few nights ago, you had done exactly that and after the restaurant was closed, instead of heading out like you had planned, you all stayed and played cards and shared a few of the leftover dishes. Somehow, one of the kitchen staff had sat with you - the prep cook, M’Baku - and if you had been in a clear state of mind and heart, you might have thought you and him had hit it off.

M’Baku had probably even been flirting with you. But since Steve had crushed your confidence, you had a hard time believing that was possible.

“He also asked me for your number,” Pietro added in, breaking you from your thoughts as you both sat back on the couch again. “If you want, I can text him right now and..”

You sighed. “I don’t know if I want to… do that. Date or.. Even think about dating. This is really nice of him, though.” With a glide of your fork, you grabbed a corner of the cake and smiled. “Reallllly nice.”

“You don’t have to date the guy,” Pietro countered, tipping his head to the side to meet your gaze. “Nothing wrong with having a little harmless fun.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with a harmless fun gene, unlike you and Wanda.” You nudged him with your elbow. “The cheesecake is great though. Tell him thanks!”

---

“Are you sure this outfit is restaurant soft open slash after party appropriate?”

Wanda rolled her eyes at you in the mirror, shooting you a smile. “Piet said it was casual. Don’t overthink it.” She finished off fixing her lipstick and turned. “You look great.”

Now you were rolling your eyes. You had picked out a casual summer dress to combat the heat, but you still weren’t sure. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but after everything with Steve, all your confidence and self esteem hadn't really recovered. The way he had talked to you with such promise and excitement about your body, only to…

No, no. It wasn’t fair to do that to yourself. You had to try and let it go. You had a fun night ahead.

Although your exciting social lives had slowed down a bit, Pietro still managed to talk you into some after work activities. On this particular Friday, you and Wanda were meeting up with him to visit some new restaurant that had recently opened. Surprising to no one, Pietro had befriended the guy who supplied their restaurant all their alcohol and the guy had gotten Pietro an invite to some soft opening event. Pietro and a few plus ones, even.

You slipped into your shoes and watched as Wanda finished pacing around her apartment gathering her things. “Where are we going anyway?”

Wanda glanced down at her phone. “He just sent me the location - somewhere in Bedstuy I guess. C’mon, we can get the next train.”

When you got off the subway and started towards whatever address Wanda was following in her phone, a weird little twist of discomfort swirled in the pit of your stomach. No, it couldn’t be possible. Sure, you were in your old neighbourhood. And yes, if you turned down the next street on the right you’d –

“It’s down here,” Wanda tipped her head down that next street on the right.

Wilson’s Kitchen.

You slowed your feet down nearly and finally came to a complete stop before you approached the restaurant. Noooo. No. The last time you had been down this street, outside of this exact building - a car had come barreling off the sidewalk and changed your life.

You let out a silent groan, shaking your head as you saw Pietro and some people from his restaurant wave to you from outside the place.

Wanda glanced over her shoulder, reaching for your hand. “Come on.” She didn’t know all the details and you didn’t have the time or ability to explain it all now. Of course it had to be this restaurant - that Steve owned. Wilson’s… you recognized that as Sam’s last name, but wondered what the connection was?

You wanted to throw up. What if Steve was inside?

“You alright?” It was Pietro who paused as everyone else headed in before you two.

“Yeah..” You took a deep breath. “It’s a long story. Just might need some emotional support here tonight.”

He raised a curious eyebrow but gave you a pointed nod. “Okay, got it. Keep your secrets but did I mention it’s an open bar at least?”

You took a deep breath and decided that you could do hard things, you could do uncomfortable things. Steve didn’t matter! You deserved to live your own best life. You took Pietro’s awaiting hand. “Oh, lead the way then.”

As soon as you got inside, you were somehow taken from Brooklyn into a cool bistro from the French Quarter. Pietro gave you a quick low down on the place - a New Orleans fusion menu inspired by the chef’s upbringing in Delacroix. There was trendy exposed brick paired with iron accents and even supplemented by a generous jazzy ambiance floating through the air.

You met up with Wanda who had found a seat at the bar. The rest of the place was quite packed. Servers zipped around the room with trays of food, stopping by the bustling tables and delivering drinks to guests. There wasn’t a set menu or agenda for the evening, but you had to be honest with your friends before things got out of hand.

“Okay, Wan.” You grabbed her hand, sparing a quick glance around the room. “Steve owns this place. If you see him, please give me fair warning.”

“Wait. Who is Steve?” Pietro had planted himself behind you both, waving a hand to the bartender for a few cocktails.

“A dumb man!” Wanda summarized quickly, turning directly in her seat to scan the crowds too.

“A dumb man I dated a while back..” You squished your face, then tried to shake away all your thoughts. “He was a jerk at the end.”

“Boooo..” Pietro threw his arm around you and squeezed. “There is still time for me to give your number to–”

“No, no.” You grabbed his hand where it sat on your shoulder. “Let’s just have fun, okay? No more thoughts about Steve.”

You had a perfectly lovely night. The food you sampled was incredible and the drinks were damn delicious. You even had the opportunity to meet Sarah, the head chef - who gushed about the evolving menu and how excited she was to have community kitchen days on the weekend to feed the neighborhood.

“It is a great location,” you replied, pivoting slightly in your stool to speak with her. Wanda and Pietro had ducked outside for some air. “I used to live a few blocks from here.”

Before you got any further, someone was saddling up beside her, dropping a hand over her shoulder. “Great turnout, sis.”

You offered Sam an awkward smile as he realized you two had been talking. He faltered for a second, glancing over his shoulder before finally giving you a greeting. “Oh, hey. It’s.. good to see you.” Sarah seemed to take this as an opportunity to excuse herself back to the kitchen, so you had to continue with Sam on your own.

“A friend of mine had an invite.” For some reason you felt you had to immediately defend yourself, even though he didn’t ask why you were there.

Sam let out a long breath and lifted a shoulder to shrug. “Listen, I don’t need to repeat the speech about how much of a fucking idiot Steve is.” He sighed then leaned back to the end of the restaurant. “He is here though, with a group in the back dining room.”

You tried not to give yourself away with your body language, but suddenly you felt even more on edge than you had before. You hadn’t seen Steve yet and it didn’t mean you were going to see him now. But knowing he was only a few walls away from you.. Well, it both worried you and also it seemed to stoke that weird feeling in your stomach into fiery anger.

“Thanks for the heads up, Sam.”

“Sam! What’s the hold up? Did you get a hold of Sean?”

Then, like some stick twist of fate, a quiet commotion started out of the back room. You couldn’t help but turn on your stool again and look in that direction along with Sam.

And there, sticking his head out the door with a big grin on his face, as waves of laughter and clinking glasses sounded out behind him, was Steve. Even though you could only see part of his torso, you knew he was probably donning some sharp suit jacket and you wanted to scream.

It felt like time slowed down as you met Steve’s eyes - though he was far away, it felt like he was looking right into your soul. His jaw stilled, then snapped shut and before either of you really had a moment to process what was happening, you looked away and rushed to your feet.

You mumbled out some rushed goodbye to Sam then immediately headed outside to find Wanda and Pietro.

They were standing near the front window - Wanda with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other. Pietro glanced up from his own phone when you shuffled up beside them. He raised an eyebrow at your distressed face.

You took a deep breath. “I saw Steve.”

Wanda turned and dropped her cigarette, stomping it out and reaching for your hand. “Auuugh. But you survived, babe. Shit. Are you okay? Does he look terrible?”

You just shrugged. “No, he looked great. Even from afar.” A dramatic groan left the pit of your stomach. “God, he’s the worst.”

Wanda’s phone started to buzz and she glanced from it to the street. “Ah, Vis is here. We were gonna go to.. Let me just send him off.”

“No, no.” You squeezed her hand. “Just go. I’ll call an Uber.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Pietro jumped in, giving Wanda a quick side hug. “Have fun! Be safe!”

Wanda pretended to falter for a second, then threw her arms around you before darting off to the awaiting car.

You let out another long sigh and leaned against the nearest wall, shaking your head as Pietro stepped in front of you. “I think I need to head home - but you can stay, I’ll be fine.”

He watched you closely. “I’m sorry. For whatever that asshole said to you - for you to feel this way now. You’re a catch.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. “I don’t think I am, but I appreciate your kindness, Piet.” Behind you both, a pair of black SUVs pulled up. They were definitely Steve’s. “Augh, I need to get out of here.”

Pietro looked over his shoulder at the vehicles, then back into the restaurant through the window. “Or.. wait. Is that his ride? He has to come out this way?”

You could see some sort of plan was forming in his head. “What are you scheming about now?”

Pietro grinned, taking a step closer to you. “Harmless fun, my friend. Flirt with me?”

“What?” Your eyes grew wide. “We can’t. You don’t actually want to..”

“Miláčik, please. If that dumb idiot man is going to walk out here, let him see you perfectly distracted by someone else without a care in the world.”

“Piet, there are so many other girls I’m sure you’d rather flirt with.”

“No, actually. I would love to flirt with you. But my sister said I cannot date her friends and I’m going back to Sokovia in a month or so..” He took in a deep breath and stepped forward, tentatively reaching a hand out to rest on your waist. “If neither of us want to date, at least let’s..”

The door opened and suddenly, you didn’t have time to even process Pietro’s words. Instead, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. And, well, he wasted no time trailing his lips against your neck as one hand wrapped around your waist. The other he used to cradle against your jaw.

“Can you see him?” Pietro whispered against your neck, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. “I don’t really care about that man but if this helps you..”

You tried not to make your shifting eyes very obvious but yes, in the large group of people walking out of Wilson’s Kitchen, just ten feet away from you - there was Steve.

He met your eyes again, extending his arm for someone else to get into the car before him. But this time, you didn’t look away. Instead, you scratched your hand against Pietro’s neck and laughed.

Time slowed down again as Steve eventually tore his eyes from yours, ducking his head to get into the back of the vehicle.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the cars finally pulled away.

With a firm pat, you tried to bring Pietro back to earth. He lingered close enough to you that your lips were nearly touching. He grinned. “Sorry if that was too much.”

“It was..” You relaxed your shoulders and leaned back again, resting your forehead against Pietro’s. “..exactly what I needed.” A silly shield, a defensive mechanism against Steve.

He laughed, quiet. “Good. I’m glad. And is there anything else you might need tonight?”

“Just someone to get me home safely. And maybe..” Leap of faith, leap of faith. “We flirt some more. At home. On my couch.”

You knew you were making a choice. God, when was the last time you had been the one to suggest going to a club on a Saturday night? You could practically hear Maria rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone, but you knew she’d be on board. Claire was immediately into the plan too, and it only took a few more minutes to get Wanda and Pietro in on the event.

And the fact that you suggested Shield, of all places, as your location of choice. Well, that was just a coincidence. If Steve happened to be there, then so be it. It had been months now since you’d broken up and a few weeks since the night at the restaurant, and you knew it was time to move the fuck on. You could go places that Steve might be at. You’d be fine.

It didn’t make you any less nervous, though. The idea of running into him wasn’t exactly something that thrilled you. What if you saw him with another girl? That would hurt. Or worse, what if he just…

No, no. This wasn’t about Steve. This was about taking yourself back and leaving him behind.

“Okay, the Uber will be here in four minutes!” Pietro loved being the motivator and sometimes it meant very bad decisions. In this particular instance, it meant one last shot of sour raspberry liqueur before you got to the club.

You cheers’d your friends, taking one last glance in the mirror by your door and calling out your goodbye to Hercules as you all clambered to the front lobby.

“You look amazing, did I tell you that?” Claire nudged you with her arm as you lingered outside. “You’ll drive him crazy.” You just laughed, letting the buzz of the alcohol overtake you like a warm blanket. She was right - you did look good. The dress you picked was definitely in your comfort zone but it showed off everything you wanted on display. And your hair had fallen exactly where you wanted it to.

You looked hot.

Steve Rogers, eat your heart out.

When you got to the front of the line at the club, you immediately regretted the entire plan. And when you met the eyes of the bouncer at the door, Luke, who greeted you with a big smile, you wanted to run in the opposite direction.

“Nice to see you, sunshine,” Luke greeted as he handed you back your ID. “Have a fun night. Don’t get into trouble, alright?”

“That man is a brick house,” Claire laughed, looking over her shoulder back at him when you got inside. “I’d like to know everything about him.”

“Stop that,” you laughed as you looped your arm with hers, following behind Wanda, Pietro and Maria who were heading towards the bar. “He works for Steve.”

“Of course,” Claire nodded, as her grin grew even louder. “You’ve gotta get me in touch with that man later, please.”

“What about Matt?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing too as you pushed your way closer to your friends as they got to the bar.

“Off again, currently.” Claire sidled up beside Pietro and waved towards the nearest bartender.

Luckily, you didn’t see Kate or Yelena behind the bar, so you’d be saved from those interactions. Instead, the bartender was someone you didn’t recognize and thankfully they didn’t even look twice at you as Pietro passed out the newly poured drinks. Once you were all sufficiently back into the tipsy but edging on drunk mood, the dance floor was your destination.

God, Pietro was fun. You didn’t have any regrets about how things had gone this summer, that almost whatever that didn’t happen after the restaurant quietly dissipated. Okay, you did make out hard that night - but then you pulled back and sent him on his way home. And the best part, it hadn’t been weird afterwards. You went back to normal, as friends, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for his distraction. Maybe in another life where he actually lived on the same continent as you - things could have been different. But if you thought too hard about it, you also knew you had just been using him to not think about Steve. And that wasn’t fair either. So instead, you decided that having platonic male friends was okay. And if Pietro wanted to dance with you, that’s all it had to mean.

And Pietro loved to dance.

It wasn’t hard to lose track of time on the dance floor - occasionally a pair would head back to the bar and deliver shots or drinks, but you all mostly sang loud and danced hard. God, your friends were fun - it was mostly a comfortable environment in your own little bubble and the only hands that landed on you were usually from Claire or Pietro.

You did check in with the real world - glancing around the room to be aware of your surroundings and on more than one occasion you glanced up towards the VIP areas upstairs.

And although you were trying not to give a fuck about Steve, when you saw him up there standing near the railing, your heart jolted. The view was brief as he stepped away, probably heading to the upstairs bar.

“Fuck that guy!” Pietro yelled out, pulling your attention back down.

“She already did,” Claire announced with a big laugh, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You know the only good way to get over him is to get under someone else.”

You laughed along and threw your arms over your friends. Maybe that was true but finding someone to date seemed absolutely awful. Dancing was easier, you didn’t want to think about Steve or dating or anything.

Suddenly, the back and forth about getting over Steve disappeared. Just a few feet from where you all were dancing, you had a feeling something bad was happening. Your mind was racing as you watched some brute of a man holding up a young girl, helping her walk out of the busy crowd. But it didn’t feel right - the way she tried pushing away from his chest, head lolling to the side.

“Hey!” Reaching for Claire’s hand, you searched the nearby area to see if anyone else could see what was happening.

Claire followed your eyes and frowned. “Shit.” She pulled ahead from you and sprung into action.

“Pietro!” You turned your head and grabbed his shoulder. “Go find a bouncer, fast!” Though you could see he was confused, he nodded and rushed away.

You caught up with Claire, who was trying to gently get the girl away from the larger man. “Hey, honey. Hi. Do you know this guy?”

“We’re good here, leave us alone!” The man barked at Claire. “She’s fine. We’re heading out.”

You shuffled over, trying to put yourself between them as Claire tugged the girl away. You reached your hand out to stop the guy from coming closer again. “Leave her alone!”

“Where am I..” The girl mumbled as Claire helped her to stand, moving her hand up to try and steady the girl as Claire looked in her eye.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Do you know that guy?” Claire asked. The girl shook her head.

A loud snort came from the man. “Jesus Christ, she just agreed to come home with me.”

As he tried to move towards her again, you pressed a hand against his chest to stop him. “Get away from her.”

“Stay out of it, you fat bitch!” He pushed you away, backwards into the crowd as he rushed towards Claire and the girl instead.

Maybe it was the alcohol surging through your or just your general rage at the male population, but as you found your footing once more, you just went for it. Although the entire scene was turning into a spectacle, you hurried forward and yanked on the guy's shoulder to stop him.

With a snap of his neck, he turned towards you and growled. “Jesus Christ, don’t you know when to quit?” He grabbed your shoulder then stomped down, smashing his boot onto your foot. “Dumb fucking bit—”

This time when he pushed you back, you landed against someone’s chest. No, someone was pulling you away.

“Hey, hey - take it easy!”

Steve.

Ahead of you, more chaos was unfolding. Sam and Bucky were suddenly fighting the man through the crowd, fists flying as they shouted. Pietro had reappeared with Luke, immediately rushing both Claire and the girl through the bar to some back room.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice came from behind you. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and shit, were you shaking?

“Hands off,” you finally replied, pulling away from him. He immediately dropped his arms, holding his hands up in defense. You took a step forward then hissed in pain

“Fuck.” You glanced down at your foot, though you could barely see it in the dark lights of the club. It fucking hurt though.

“Let me help you,” Steve shifted and offered a hand to you. “Please.”

You strained your neck to try and find Pietro or Maria or Wanda, but they seemed to have disappeared too. Begrudgingly, you accepted Steve’s arm under yours as you limped away from the dance floor.

Even if Luke hadn’t messaged Steve to report that you were waiting in line outside, Steve would have spotted you in the crowd.

Because it was you.

Your entire being had left an imprint on him and he couldn’t stop himself from searching any crowded room for you, still. Months had gone by since he had hit self destruct but he couldn’t get you off his mind.

Even though Meredith Russo had been hanging off him throughout the night, Steve’s radar remained on you. Especially whenever anyone got close to you, including that silver haired dude. The way he danced against you, how he made you laugh and blush - it drove Steve mad. He was certain it was the same guy who had his hands all over you outside the restaurant too. Fuck, he hadn’t like that that either.

He considered, briefly, just leaving the club and heading home for the rest of the night. But the moment he saw you, something told him to stay. He did, however, try not to spend his entire night watching you from afar. Especially when he noticed one of your friends looking up towards his section.

Instead, he focused on only watching from the balcony every now and then. Everytime he refreshed his drink, or got up to greet a guest, he would throw a subtle look downwards to the dance floor.

Yep, there you were. Still dancing, smiling, not a care in the world.

Fuck.

This was what he wanted. To let you go, to save you from his world. But god fucking damnit, the pain in his chest hadn’t subsided at all.

“Steeeeeve. Wanna dance?”

Meredith Russo was attractive - Steve wasn’t blind. That didn’t mean he cared even a fraction about her. Yet somehow, every single time he had been out lately - with or without Billy Russo - Meredith seemed to appear too.

“No.” He clipped his words and turned away from her at the upstairs bar.

“Okay, how about we just cut to the chase and you take me home then? I’m tired of this game,” Meredith returned to him, planting her feet and staring him down. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

“I don’t want to do anything to you, Meredith. Excuse me.”

He could hear her starting to respond, though he escaped her soon enough. And then, Sam was calling for his attention from near the staircase. “Steve, come here!”

Steve followed Sam’s pointed hand and realized something was unfolding downstairs on the dance floor. He could see anger building in some oversized man and then there you were, in the middle of it.

“Shit,” Steve hissed out, calling for Sam and Bucky to follow him as he rushed downstairs. Where the fuck were his security guards? Who was he paying to maintain the safety standards in his establishment if this was occurring in the middle of the room?

“Stay out of it, you fat bitch!”

Steve couldn't move fast enough.

As they swam through the large groups of people, shouting for some sort of clearance, Steve was just praying that you’d be unscathed.

“Jesus Christ, don’t you know when to quit? Dumb fucking bit—”

All Steve could see was red. The man grabbed you, pushed you, and then you were collapsing backward.

Steve caught you just in time, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you further away while Sam and Bucky moved ahead to deal with the brute.

“Hey, hey - take it easy!”

You were shaking in his arms, high on adrenaline and liquor as the scene calmed down.

“Are you okay?”

You stilled immediately, pulling away from him. “Hands off!”

Steve relented without hesitation, letting you go and watching as you stumbled forward. You winced in pain as you stepped down on your right foot.

“Fuck.”

Steve sighed and offered his hand to you. “Let me help you. Please.” He worried you were about to fight him too but thankfully you accepted his arm around your shoulder as you hobbled off the dance floor.

Steve didn’t think he’d ever be in this position again - driving you home after a night out. But circumstances were different and following everything that happened at the club, he had insisted. Though it was clear you had your guard way up.

After dropping off Pietro, Wanda and Maria - Claire had gone to the hospital with the young girl, accompanied by Luke - the quiet hung between you and Steve in his car.

He hadn’t experienced silence that heavy and loud before.

You squeaked out a quiet ‘thanks’ as your building approached, but Steve doubled down.

“Let me help you to your door, at least. You’re limping.”

Truthfully, Steve thought maybe you should go to the ER too. That asshole had really smashed into your foot and an x-ray would probably find a fracture. Christ, he was still fuming over that entire interaction - the image of that man pushing you, yelling in your face, grabbing you..

How come Steve hadn’t been able to protect you? How could he let you get hurt like that?

Right. Because it wasn’t his responsibility.

Fuck.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed to his suggestion. The silence continued otherwise as Steve guided you to the elevator, then in the direction of your apartment.

Once you fished out your keys from your small purse, you managed to get the door open. Hercules was eagerly awaiting on the other side.

Steve saw your full body sigh.

He swallowed hard, waiting outside the doorway still. “I can take him out, if you’d like.”

You avoided his eyes but nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Even just spending time outside with Hercules caused Steve’s heart to ache all over again. He thought he had suppressed it all - channeling all his complicated feelings until nights out and all his unrelenting rage into his fists. And yet, they bubbled up again without warning just at the sound of your voice.

God fucking damnit.

When he returned to your apartment, with a slow, sleepy pup at his side, he contemplated his next move. He knew he should probably just let Hercules back inside and go. But, he was a sucker for punishment. So, he cautiously opened the door and called your name.

Hercules, freed from his leash and collar, bounced towards your bedroom. Steve stepped to the side and peeked through the open door. You were laying flat on your bed, changed into pajamas. He sighed again, retrieving an ice pack from your freezer and moving towards your room.

“You should ice your foot,” he said slowly, offering you the compress.

You stuck your hand out for him to hand it off, then rested it on your foot without a word. He retreated back towards the door and waited.

Finally, you spoke. “God, I wish I was still drunk.”

Steve let out a breath. “And why is that?”

“Because I have a thousand things to say to you but..”

Steve waited to see if you’d carry on your thought but instead you fell back deeper onto your pillows. He glanced up to the ceiling then took a step further into your room.

“It’s after 2AM now.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Honesty Hour.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Sure. Go ahead, you start, I guess.”

“Uh, how come you aren’t spending the night with your boyfriend?”

This time your laugh was a lot deeper. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Steve.”

“That silver haired guy?”

“Wanda’s brother. Just a friend. Not that it matters.”

He knew he should keep his commentary to himself, but Steve couldn’t resist. “You let all your friends touch you and dance with you like that?”

You sat up. “That’s none of your business. And at least he danced with me. Unlike you.”

Steve drew in a sharp breath. “Okay, I deserve that.”

You sighed, shifting in your bed to meet Steve’s gaze. “Yeah. You do. The worst part about this entire thing is I feel like I gave you a lot, you know? I was honest and still tried to make it work but you just.. you were mean, Steve.”

He took a step towards your bed. God, he wanted to crawl in beside you. No, those days were long gone. “Sweetheart, I..”

“You were mean. I thought you were different but fuck. It’s funny - Bucky and Sam told me how much of an idiot you are! Like they felt bad, apologetic even. Isn’t that fucked up? But youuuu. You just blocked my number and moved on and you didn’t even say sorry. I fell in love with you! And you didn’t even… God, did you care about me at all? Was this just a big joke to you?”

“Of course I care about you. It’s just.. it’s complicated. My life is complicated, okay? I can’t.. we can’t..” He stepped back again, dragging a hand down his face. “I am sorry.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” With another frustrated groan, you laid back again and turned away from him. “I guess this is the end. So, have a nice life, Steve.”

He wanted to drop to his knees and apologize again, to get at least one last look at you but Steve knew it was too late.

When you woke up the next morning, the entire evening felt like a dream. But as you stepped off the bed and your foot radiated in pain; it all came flooding back.

Shield, drinking, dancing, Steve, the helpless young girl, Steve, that piece of shit stomping on your foot, Steve driving you home, Steve letting out Hercules, arguing with Steve... Steve… Steve Steve Steve

Of course, I care about you. It’s just.. it’s complicated.

Have a nice life, Steve.

You groaned, very slowly throwing on enough clothes to venture outside with Hercules. The more pressure and time you spent standing on your foot, the worse it felt. When you checked in on the group chat and let them know you were alive, Claire insisted you visit her at work to get your foot checked out.

Given how desperately you needed to unload about what happened with Steve, you put yourself together and headed to the hospital.

“Okay, here’s the update. The tech owed me a favour so this one was on the house.” Claire had been a saint and since you were somehow visiting her on a slow morning after her own late night, she had managed to get you through all the paperwork quickly. “The x-ray just showed a teeny tiny fracture. So a tensor and taking it easy should suffice but let’s get the official prognosis.” She stuck her head into the nearby hallway and called for a doctor, by first name.

God, you appreciated her.

Claire’s doctor colleague confirmed what she had said and advised on rest, ice and Tylenol. If it got any worse, you could return for a cast.

“Maybe just a short walk for Herc tonight,” Claire said with finality, flipping the chart closed and dropping into the chair beside the bed. “Now, I have a ten minute break and need to know what the hell happened with Steve last night. He drove you home?”

Although you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Claire every single detail, it felt good to say it all out loud. Maybe you could sense a fraction of remorse in Steve, but it still left you with such an upsetting feeling. Why was he so curious about who you were dating or not dating? It didn’t matter to him anymore.

It was bittersweet to think that your actions with Pietro had impacted Steve so much. Not that you needed him to be jealous but it reminded you he was human still.

Of course I care about you.

As you made your way back down to the exit, passing through the emergency room and through the main reception of the hospital, someone called your name. The voice was strangely familiar and when you clued in to who it was, your heart sank.

“Sarah! Hi.” You paused at the set of chairs near the door, giving a small awkward wave to Sarah Rogers as she stood to say greet you. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, sweetie.” She pulled you into a hug and you wanted to melt into the floor. God, how could a woman so sweet raise a son like Steve? Well, no. Maybe that wasn’t a fair question. Before that awful phone call, Steve had proved himself to have traits just like his mother - headstrong, considerate, protective. Damnit. Why did things have to turn out the way they did?

You gave her a soft smile, doing your best to dismiss your plethora of confused thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I volunteer in the palliative ward on the weekends. Usually just a couple hours in the morning.” Sarah motioned to the chairs and invited you to sit. “Do you have a second to talk?”

You were running late leaving work - again. God, your boss had been relentless with our workload lately. Gone were the exciting after work adventures from summer. As the fall creeped in and your list of projects grew, you had a feeling more late nights at your desk were in the future. Really, after that night at Shield a few weeks ago, you had pulled yourself back immediately. It had been a while now since you’d done anything beyond a Saturday at the market - which was probably good for your foot, at least.

And now, to make matters worse following your frustrating day at work, there was a thunderstorm in the forecast again. And considering Pietro had just left to go home earlier in the week, you weren’t sure who would be coming to your rescue this time.

You made it to the doggy daycare just minutes before they were closing, apologizing profusely to the girl at the counter as you collected Hercules. When you made it outside and started your walk, you planned out exactly how the rest of your night was going to go: shower, fresh pajamas, ordering in from your favourite Indian place - if they were still open, you needed to check your phone for their hours and–

“Ooof.”

Somehow, only a block before your building, you walked straight into a brick wall of a person. As you mumbled out an apology, you realized it wasn’t just any person, given the hanging tag around his neck. Although he wasn’t in a full patrol uniform, you could see it was someone from the NYPD.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, officer. I wasn’t watching where–”

When he cut you off, reassuring you by saying your name out loud, you narrowed your eyebrows. Wait. What? Why did this officer know who you were? Had he been waiting for you on your route home?

“How do you know my name?” You squeaked out, gripping Hercule’s leash in one hand and your phone in the other. You darted your gaze down to your phone, trying to unlock it.

The man reached out and hit the backside of your hand, sending your phone up and out of your hand. Then, he caught it with a grin. “We need to talk about Steve Rogers.”

CHAPTER 05 - CHAPTER 08

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #plus size reader #steve rogers #simmerandwrite #simmerandcry #story: sink into me

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wkemeup · 4 years ago

Text

The Offer

summary: Zemo offers to sell the Winter Soldier in exchange for information. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 3k warnings: vaguely implied unwanted sexual contact a/n: this is based around the Madripoor scene in TFATWS ep 3, particularly Zemo’s suggestion of “he will do anything you want.”

“You must maintain your cover,” Zemo’s voice rang in your ear, drowning out the heavy bass of loudspeakers from the club down the hall. “If you break character, they will know... and they will kill us.”

You held your breath; arms folded tight across your chest, nails digging into the exposed skin on your biceps. It did little to ease the strain within your muscle as you watched Bucky standing guard at the edge of the room, his eyes overcast in a cold, emotionless haze. Ready for command. Empty of the needs and desire that made him human. Portraying the shadow from his past he was so desperate to escape.

Slowly, you shifted your weight on heels sharp enough to pierce skin. The clothes Zemo had dressed you in were unforgiving, exposing every dip and curve on your body, though you supposed that was his intention. You were meant assume the role of a wealthy arms dealer known only as Lilith, a woman whose reputation for the bedrooms of Madripoor outweighed even that of the weapons at her disposal. An affinity for the finer things in life, Zemo had snickered to himself. Sex, drugs, and power.

Bucky’s eyes shifted to the floor near your feet. You could tell he was watching you from his peripherals though his expression remained vacant. It was shocking to see him like this again, worse that he seemed to fall back into the role of the Winter Soldier so easily – like he’d never truly believed he could put his past to rest at all.

Zemo paced at the center of the room, discussing terms while Selby lounged on the couch. Her brazen comfort in a room of powerful agents on the dark market told you she had more leverage than any of you anticipated. You felt for the slight weight of the gun strapped at your thigh, keeping careful watch of the guards stationed just outside the door. The four of you were easily outnumbered and outgunned, even with Bucky throwing himself back to the Winter Soldier.

Sam caught your eye across the room, his face stern enough to communicate his uncertainty. He didn’t trust Zemo anymore than you did. The man was responsible for dozens of deaths, including the King of Wakanda, and he’d done the Avengers no favors by planting a seed of war between the most powerful people on the planet. You tried not to follow Sam's gaze when his eyes flickered to Bucky, a softening in his brow to see months of progress virtually erased within seconds.

“What’s the offer?” Selby’s voice broke through the haze. You hadn’t realized how focused you’d been on Bucky until you began to notice the music thumping through the walls and the scent of stale beer lining the floors – a disorienting state amongst precious stole artifacts and original paintings.

Zemo stood from his chair, crossing the room. He picked up a relic from the center table, admiring the shiny copper edges as he tossed it in the air. It nearly slipped from his grip and he shuttered out an apologetic wince at Selby before placing it back on the table. You rolled your eyes.

Adjusting the fur lined collar of his jacket, Zemo circled the edges of the room. He came to a pause over Bucky’s shoulder, gaze slowly trailing down his frame, tracing over the lines on Bucky's face as if he were studying for imperfections. A sinister smirk curled at his lips before he turned back to Selby.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo bargained, waiting for her interest to peak before he continued. She shifted in her seat; a brow raised. His lips curved in a devious grin enough to make your stomach twist. “And we’ll give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, his stare maintaining the same emptiness you saw the day on the bridge when he’d been muzzled by his captors and made to be a weapon. Nothing in his expression gave way to whatever was going through his mind and part of you wondered if he’d allowed himself so far into this role again, that he’d embraced the cold arms of the numbness it carried. It was easier than allowing himself to feel any of the rage that was rapidly boiling under your skin, you supposed.

But then, Zemo’s knuckles grazed at Bucky’s cheek. Lingering over unshaven stubble, a shadow along his jaw. A delicate touch though it seemed to burn as if steam could rise from the contact alone.

Zemo turned, grinning at Selby. “He will do anything you want.”

It was so impossibly subtle, you weren’t sure anyone else had noticed, but Bucky’s jaw clenched. The muscle shifted the shadows on his face, his breathing coming to a stop as his chest no longer carried the steady rise and fall under layers of leather and Kevlar. Zemo’s hand moved along Bucky’s jaw, fingers dangerously close to his lips, and you felt for the outline of the gun strapped to your thigh.

"Anything?" Selby inquired. Her tone was even though her eyes widened just enough, the dark of her pupils expanding as she glanced over Bucky's frame.

"When he is properly activated, the Soldier is incredibly–" Zemo paused, tapping the edge of Bucky's chin, "–eager to please. There's nothing else inside that brain of his except his mission. What that mission is, is entirely up to whoever recites the triggers."

“Fascinating,” Selby grinned as she slowly stood from her perch.

You followed her stride with every agonizing step towards Bucky. Just as she crossed in front of The Smiling Tiger, Sam’s gaze met yours. He narrowed his eyes, the slight shake in his head barely noticeable. He must have seen you reach for your gun – an instinct to protect Bucky from the demons of his past, a tangible weapon you hadn't been able to use against the monsters in his sleep. It took every ounce of your strength to relax away from the comforting metal.

You watched as Selby’s eyes roamed over Bucky – hungry, and like a vulture, she licked her lips. As she began to circle his frame, gaze trailing down from his shoulders, to his thighs, down to his feet, never once daring to meet his eyes, you found yourself inching closer. Bucky’s hand curled into a fist so tight his nails broke skin in his right hand, blood prickling at his palm. And still—his expression remained stoic, unfeeling. A paralyzing thought crossed your mind and you questioned if this dance was a familiar one – the art of being sold to another human being.

Selby paused as she faced him; examining the features on his face as if he were something other than human – a prize to be won, a possession to own, a trophy to show off.

“And he’s still in working condition? After all these years?” she inquired toward Zemo, standing so dangerously close to Bucky. His stare focused straight ahead, far beyond the wall across the room as if he could burn holes into the plaster.

"He's quite impressive," Selby murmured. Slowly, her hand reached towards his face.

Your grip was around her wrist before anyone realized you’d crossed the room. She flinched, startled by the vice-like hold wrapped around her wrist and a pained sort of whine escaped. She flexed her fingers and still, you held your ground.

“Is there a problem, Lilith?” Selby smirked, curiosity glaring as her eyes flickered between you and Bucky. You said nothing and yet, her lips parted in understanding. “Oh, I see. You control him. Don’t you, dear? He belongs to you.”

You tasted bile on your tongue – the very thought of owning Bucky as if his agency was not even in question made you sick to your stomach. Your grip tightened on Selby’s wrist and you would have broken it clean in two if you had the strength for it. But one look at Zemo and the cautious gaze upon his face, and you forced yourself to swallow back the venom in your mouth. You didn’t allow the disgust to touch your features or the shame to burn hot into your neck. Lilith would not be fazed by the selling of a weapon—even if that weapon were a man with heart so heavy, so full and so kind, he could hardly carry its burden on his own.

“Make your deal, Selby,” you hissed in an accident belonging to the weapons dealer you portrayed, “then, you can play with your toy. Until we have our intel, hands off the product.”

You released Selby’s wrist and she stepped back a few paces. She slid her left hand over the red marks forming over her skim, gingerly massaging at the area and still – the grin did not falter from her cheeks. Impressed, intrigued. She seemed inclined to ask you more about your bond to the Winter Soldier when you stepped in front of Bucky, blocking her view as she unabashedly stared down her hopeful new possession. Sam and Zemo exchanged a glance, though their expressions did not carry the weight their eyes did.

Behind you, you could hear Bucky exhale a heavy a breath, could practically feel as his fists released to be out of the woman’s eye line. It was short lived, of course, as all things in Madripoor were. A gunshot pierced through the window and lodged itself into Selby’s head.

***

You woke with a sudden start, the sticky smell of stale beer still on your skin as you jolted up on an unfamiliar bed. The room was vaguely a blur thanks to the pounding ache in the back of your head, but you could see enough to know it was not a place you recognized. To your left, the bed was untouched; sheets perfectly pressed as if they’d never been laid in at all. Glancing down, you saw you were still wearing the dress from the club, makeup smeared over your face and onto the pillows. You brushed at your cheeks to remove the mascara stains.

At the end of the bed, laid a fresh pair of clothes. Blue jeans and a black pullover. You sighed, pressing a hand over the soft fabric and bringing it to your face. It smelled of lavender and vanilla – fresh and inviting compared to the sweaty stale air of the night club.

The night before was mostly a blur. You didn’t remember much after Selby was killed; only Bucky’s hands on your waist, pulling you back towards the door as you tried to locate the shooter. You’d kicked off your heels and sprinted next to him in your bare feet – a man who could challenge the speed of moving vehicles and he was running in line with you and Sam while gunshots reined from every direction. Self-preservation was not a concept in Bucky’s vocabulary.

Your feet were bloodied by the time you caught your breath again and within the impossibly small moment you took to pause, an assailant had knocked you out from behind. Cold darkness. Instantaneously. After that, you could only catch vague memories of Bucky lifting you into his arms and Sharon Carter’s voice. But you hadn’t seen Sharon in years. Not since the aftermath of Vienna. The theory didn’t make much sense.

You felt along the dresser for your gun, only to find it empty. With a tired groan, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, hoping you could find Bucky or Sam before you found trouble. Your feet were wrapped in bandages carrying a slight pink color on the soles – courteous of Zemo’s ridiculous heels you’d left behind the chaos and the mile worth of pavement you’d run barefoot on.

The chill of the hardwood floors was a relief on the undersides of your feet, but you hadn’t accounted for the dizziness from your concussion to take over once you stood. The room went dark and you began to sway, trying to feel for the bed behind you, when suddenly you hard footsteps rushing into the room.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Bucky’s arms wrapped at your waist, holding you steady. He guided you back to the bed, helping you to sit on the edge as you regained your vision. He sat down beside you, keeping a hand on your arm to help ground you as you focused on the permanence of the room, the sturdiness of solid ground.

“What happened?” you sighed, pressing your palms to your eyes. Your head was still ringing from the blow you took the night before. When you finally allowed yourself to adjust to the sunlight in the room, you turned to face Bucky. He was dressed in a plan black t-shirt and jeans; his Winter Soldier attire hung in the corner of the room.

“Sharon happened,” Bucky chuckled with a short shake of his head. You thought you might be surprised at his answer, and somehow, you weren’t at all. Bucky softened, his fingers brushing at the hem of your dress. “You should change into something more comfortable. Sharon left some clothes for you but um... you were pretty out of it last night and I didn’t want to... um...”

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled at him as you placed your hand on top of his. You squeezed at his fingers, curling under his palm against your thigh. For a moment, you nearly lost yourself in the sunlit reflection of blue within his eyes – the delicate intricacies of a complex man. So impossibly sweet and kind in the daylight; cold as stone in the night under the guise of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky helped you to stand, giving you time to adjust to the sting of healing wounds on the soles of your feet. He turned his back to give you privacy, though he kept close enough that you could grab hold of his shoulder for support. He pushed the clothes down the bed for you to reach easily.

Slowly, ignoring the ache in your body, you slid the zipper down your spine, letting the dress fall to a heap at your feet. You tried not to notice how Bucky’s shoulders tightened at the sound, his stance a little less balanced at the fallen fabric. Gingerly, you dressed yourself in the jeans and pullover Sharon had provided for you, trying to stifle a wince as you shifted on your feet. Bucky’s head tilted at your whimper, his instinct fighting to turn to you, to help you, but he held himself still.

When you were done, you reached for the necklace at your bedside, one you hadn’t worn on the mission but you carried it with you wherever you went – the last token you had of a distant life before the Avengers. Sam had kept it in his pocket in Madripoor.

“Would you mind?” you called softly, tapping a hand against Bucky’s shoulder. He turned cautiously, almost timid in his movements, and you smiled at him as he held his hand out. The delicate gold chain dropped into his palm – a beautiful contrast to the black metal, in mirror to the detailing work along his shoulder.

Before you could turn your back to him, Bucky stepped closer. He held each side of the necklace in his hands and brought them around the back of your neck. This close, you could smell the bar soap he’d used that morning, you could see the lines of scruff along his jaw he hadn’t been able to shave.

When he clasped the chain, he stepped back slowly, but only enough to admire his work. He brushed your hair away from your collar, a ghosted smile on his lips at he touched the pendent at the center. This wonderful, beautiful man who learned to find comfort in touch again, who sought you out when it felt impossible to reclaim that part of him. Memory of the night before etched into your mind and you swallowed back the lump in your throat.

“Bucky?”

He smiled a little wider, focused on tracing his fingers along your jaw, brushing away your hair. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

Bucky paused, his touch upon you skin turning near to stone before he pulled away. The smile he’d worn slowly faded from his lips, the cold rush of reality piercing through the tender moment, and you hated yourself for being the cause of such pain. Bucky sighed, sinking down onto the bed, his hands gripped tight to the edge of the mattress.

“Not sure there’s much to say, doll,” Bucky exhaled.

You sat beside him, close enough for your thigh to brush in line with his. He looked down at the little space between you, his eyes fluttered closed at the contact – the grounding sensation of welcomed touch.

“You're not him anymore, Bucky,” you said softly, setting your hand over his own. “No one is ever going to control you or... or own you again, okay? They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to... not anymore. You’re free. You know that, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded, though it was slow, almost aching. He squeezed at your hand, pushing out a pained smile as he looked at you. “I do.”

You reached towards him with your free hand, cupping the side of his cheek where Zemo had touched him the night before. You traced your thumb over his jaw line, tingling over the short hairs on his skin. So beautiful and lovely after decades suffering under the hands of cruel men.

“You know I’d kill anyone who tried, right?”

Bucky chuckled at that and you were grateful to see the lines by his eyes again, the smile pushing bright into his cheeks. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know that, too.”

He leaned forward a pressed a kiss to your temple. Short and lingering and not nearly long enough. But it was welcomed and warm and enough.

—

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #tfatws spoilers

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blacksharoncarter · 4 years ago

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People were mad bc she(Sharon) was angry and called the patriotism behind the shield a bunch of bs like yeah she’s right. Ofc she’s angry if you were on the run for 7-8 years and no one came to check in on you after you helped them and risked everything and then watched all the ppl who did the same things you did get pardoned while you have to live in a literal criminal city where you have to watch your every move, yeah I’d be angry too.

I don’t know why people expected her to be all happy and nothing but sunshine,but they must’ve forgotten how human emotions work. Especially to see the people you risk everything for working alongside a villain you helped take down it’s understandable to see where Sharon is coming from.

Also why would Sharon still be patriotic? I’ve never really taken the character as a very patriotic person. She’s never done the things she done in the name of “America and freedom hmph!1!”. In this case what reason would she have to be? That ‘meaning’ and ‘importance’ behind the shield has failed her and a lot of others so I’m glad to see her call out the hypocrisy. With that when we finally see Sam as Cap he will reverse and make a new meaning of what the shield represents. I also feel like she should automatically get that pardoned whether the deal was made or not just off the fact of everything she did before.

Being cynical is apart of Sharon’s personality and I think that threw off a ton of people who just resulted to calling her ‘mean’ and what not. Well I’m glad that they showed her liked this being raw and the reality she’s faced since CW and how much it’s changed her. Antis will say anything to justified their hate towards the character (you know you don’t have to have a reason to dislike a character, but that’s not the case with a lot of them they want to hide behind their misogyny). So for now I’m ignoring them haha. Theories being spoken about how she may be Power Broker I also don’t believe. Yeah it’s obvious she’s probably had to get her hands a little dirty living and surviving in Madripoor, but I think her morals stand still and it wouldn’t make any sense for her to still work and team up with Sam and Bucky and help them if she was Power Broker so I’m not too worried about that theory??

I also loved how she’s very well respected in Madripoor being an art dealer and throwing parties and how she built a name for her self and that’s Sharon she doesn’t truly need anyone and can do bad all by herself and they got that part of her across well, but at the end of the day it’s still disappointing no one even bothered to check up on her.

#fatws spoilers #fatws #falcon and the winter soldier #sharon carter #agent 13 #falcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winter soldier #baron zemo #zemo #marvel #marvel comics #disney+#mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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petertingle-yipyip · 3 years ago

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NIGHTMARE - FINAL (BUCKY BARNES)

FINAL - ALWAYS BEEN YOU

Last Part // Masterlist

Tags: @writingsbychlo @ladyyystark @calums-betch @bangtanxberm @buckyys-doll @spideysimpossiblegirl @tgirljeep388 @whattheheckisevengoingon

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x HYDRA!reader

Word Count: 10,321

Summary: It’s been a long time since Y/N has seen her friends. When she tries something bold to end Nightmare once and for all, can she be forgiven for what she’s done?

Notes/Warnings: This series was so much fun! Feel free to send in comments, feedback, theories, opinions, anything really! Also, I’m not super thrilled with the ending but I couldn’t really figure out which direction I wanted it to go in.

How long had it been? About seven years in Madripoor, maybe more. It felt like an eternity, to the point where the days ran together. Or maybe that was because you didn’t sleep as much as you used to. It was a busy lifestyle to keep Nightmare and the Power Broker at the top of the food chain, but the work had its rewards.

You and Sharon moved into a massive loft with a hefty rent. As day jobs and covers, Sharon was an arts dealer and you ran security at a local club. However, your scar was far too obvious so you used one of the facial masking sheets that you had seen Natasha use. You only used it to give the illusion of clear skin and slightly different colored eyes, just to ensure no one caught on.

“Have you heard the rumors?” Sharon had asked as you were on your way out. You had come back between your shift at the bar and your self proclaimed recon assignment to grab your equipment.

“Why do you think I came for my stuff?” You answered simply.

“What are you going to do if it’s true?”

“What, you expect me to shoot him?” You chuckled. “I’m gonna make sure they don’t get too much information and then I’m gonna lead them to you.”

“Secure channel two?” She asked as she took her ear piece off the side table.

“Channel two secure.” You nodded and positioned your device. “Mainstream channel three. I’ll use them to redirect but I’ll call everyone off once they’re close to you.”

“Alright.” She nodded. “Let me know when they leave.”

“Copy.” You threw your bag over your shoulder and headed back to the bar.

You had gotten wind of a rumor only a few hours ago that the Winter Soldier, the Smiling Tiger, and the Baron Zemo were headed for Madripoor and they wanted a meeting with Selby. The only problem with that was that Selby knew a lot about what Sharon was up to as the Power Broker. You went to ensure there wasn’t too much of a leak in Selby, and if need be, cap the leak.

You hadn’t killed much since you moved to Madripoor. You had drawn a fair amount of blood but they hardly ever died. You could only recall a handful of deaths at Nightmare’s hands so at least you could say that.

You ducked in your usual alley and peeled the sheet off. You laid it in your bag and positioned your usual mask. You loaded your belt and tucked your bag under the usual dumpster. You slung the additional rifle over your back and hauled yourself up the ladder so you could get to your vantage point. You hopped the couple rooftops to get across the street from the club before setting yourself up.

You laid flat on your belly and set the rifle against your shoulder. Using the scope, you could see Selby and the boys talking. You pulled the surveillance device that was linked to a hidden microphone within the room that you had placed years prior and flipped it on so you could hear the conversation. You slide up on the sensor on your ear piece to switch to your secure channel with Sharon.

“Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank.” Selby explained casually.

“Nagel’s been outted.” You said quickly. “Permission to fire?”

“Negative.” Sharon answered, to which you rolled your eyes. “You shoot Selby and shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

“Selby is going to give them everything.” You argued while you watched the scene unfold and listened to the conversation. “Again, requesting permission to take the shot.”

“I said no.” She said firmly. “We need her.”

“I’ve disobeyed handlers much scarier than you, Carter.” You chuckled as you positioned your rifle. “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission anyways.”

“I swear to god, if you-“

“Who’s Sam?” Selby questioned accusingly.

“Their covers are blown. I’m taking the shot.” You said quickly as you heard Selby give the kill order.

Without waiting for a response, you squeezed the trigger. The bullet went straight through her chest and her body crumpled to the floor. You didn’t know if you were thankful that the instinct to protect James was still there or if you cursed it.

“What the hell did you do?” She asked angrily.

You groaned in frustration and changed to the main channel.

“Selby’s dead.” You explained quickly as you slung your rifle over your shoulder and waited for the boys to exit. “I have three targets leaving the Brass Monkey but no confirmation on the shooter. Keep all eyes high. I want them to follow me and I want them alive.”

You received a choir of responses, all some form of “Copy that.” or “Understood.” You watched them leave, trailing them carefully until you had to get in front. As word spread of Selby’s death, you watched as citizens glared at them with almost a feral hatred. You weren’t the one who advertised Selby’s death but you had a feeling you knew who did.

Your men were quick to fire warning shots, chasing them down the alleys you led them towards. It wasn’t long before you were closing in on Sharon’s location so you had to switch channels.

“Incoming in less than a minute.” You said as you ran. “I have all three headed your way.”

“Copy that.” Sharon answered. “Already in position.”

You dropped from your rooftop and utilized a fire escape so you could easily land in a low crouch on the ground. You switched back to the main channel for the final time for the night.

“Stand down.” You said but two men continued to chase. “All units, stand. Down.”

When they didn’t stop, you fired two quick shots. The boys turned quickly and caught a glimpse of you sneaking back into the shadows. You heard Sharon’s voice greeting them so you made your way back to your original alley and towards your duffle.

“A note to everyone.” You spoke into your earpiece. “When I give an order, I expect everyone to follow.. And if you think you’re above that, you will be removed.”

You removed the piece of tech from your ear and placed it back in its case before anyone could say anything otherwise. You pulled your duffle and quickly changed in the dim alley. You replaced the masking sheet back on your face and tapped the sensor near your temple. With your alias tucked away, you threw the bag over your shoulder and headed back to your loft.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” You announced as you stepped into the front room. “Work was insane. Did you hear someone shot Selby?”

“Yeah, I heard the Power Broker is pissed.” Sharon said in annoyance.

“I bet.” You nodded, pretending not to notice the three men in the room. “I’m sure whoever did it had their reasons. Selby did a lot of under the table deals so one of them was bound to bite her in the ass.”

“I’m sure they were told not to. Selby was important around here.”

“I’m sure they didn’t care.” You said tightly while you stared down the blonde. “I heard she was selling out the Power Broker so they should be thankful that leak was capped.”

The quirk of your brow was intended as a challenge but she simply scoffed and pushed past you. You had the thought of sticking your foot out to trip her but Sam’s voice broke your focus.

“Y/N?” Sam spoke finally.

“Sam.” You greeted.

“Y/N?” James repeated, as if it hadn’t clicked in his head that it was you.

You spun to face him and your heart swelled at the sound of your name. “James.”

“This is where you went? And what happened to your sc-“

“Helmut Zemo.” You said plainly, standing in front of the man and cutting off Sam’s question. “Sokovian covert ops, Echo Scorpion… The man who killed a King and flushed HYDRA’s deadliest out of hiding, all with the same bomb.”

“Do I know you?” He asked carefully.

“Admit you did it.” You said firmly.

You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted him to admit to. Maybe you wanted to hear that he had used you and James. That he took advantage of you both.

“I’m sorry?”

“We all know you did it.”

“I’ve done quite a few things to make enemies, but I assure you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”You had an accomplice that day in Vienna. Who was she?”

“Vienna? … I don’t see how that matters.”

“Of course you don’t.” You laughed slightly. You quickly pulled your arm back and threw a hard right hook against his jaw. You knelt to be at his level after he crashed to the floor and you heard the aggressive scrape of a chair. “You’re lucky they’re here otherwise you’d be dead already.” You said lowly.

“Who- Who are you?”

“She should’ve killed you when she had the chance in Siberia. Do you still see the devil in my eyes?” You smirked before standing as you saw realization cross his features. “I’m gonna get changed right now and I’ll meet you up at the party?” You asked Sharon.

“Hurry up.” She shooed you away. “You’re hosting this thing too.”

“They’re your clients. And you know I hate these things.” You corrected before ducking into your room. You heard their conversation about Sam giving up the shield and Karli’s small army.

You shoved your bag under your bed and turned to your closet, looking for a decent but quick outfit. After a few moments of silent contemplation, you heard a light knock.

“Come in.” You called, not turning away. If it was Sharon, you wanted it to at least look like you were trying.

“So this is where you decided to go?” You heard Sam ask as the door clicked shut.

You peeked over your shoulder to ensure he was alone. When you saw exactly that, you answered honestly.

“Yeah.” You began. “It’s off grid. No one cared before since no one came looking for me. What difference does it make?”

“I saw you tonight… I thought you were done with that.”

“It’s not the same this time.”

“How is it different?” He challenged. “You’re still killing people.”

“Selby was the first person I’ve killed in years and I did it to save your asses. And the two after that, well… I don’t like being ignored.” You laughed bitterly. “I’m in charge of what I do around here and what shots I do or don’t take. That’s how it’s different.”

“So you decide who you kill? How is that any better?”

“Because no one is inside my head and pulling the strings like a goddamn puppeteer.”

“I thought you were better than this.”

“Yet no one seemed to care before.” You scoffed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said, no one came looking for me.” You replied in annoyance. “But that’s fine. I guess I came here so no one would find me. But no one even called and no one checked in. You all forgot about me but now that you’re here and you see me, you want to act like you care. You never cared, Sam, and you never knew me and you damn sure never liked me. So you don’t get to say shit like ‘I thought you were better’ because as far as you knew, she is who I really am. She’s who I always was. You didn’t know me before you knew her.”

“I’m pretty sure Bucky and Steve knew someone else, didn’t they?”

“Look.” You spun quickly on your heel to face him. You hadn’t realized how tight of a fist your hand was in until you felt the sting on your nails digging into your palm. “Who just saved your asses, hmm?” You relaxed your hand and flailed it to punctuate your point. “You think Selby was gonna let you live after your cover was blown? She literally ordered them to kill you.”

“But you didn’t have to-“

“Yes, I did!” You shouted. “God, Sam, you can’t be that naïve. That’s how it works around here! You pull the trigger or you end up in the ground… I’m not the same girl you fought beside seven years ago.”

There’s a small pause, as if he was letting your words sink in. He spoke after a small sigh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. But after the Blip and the chaos, I-“

“Y’know, I didn’t get blipped away with everyone else... Instead, I got to wake up every morning and wonder what the hell kind of game of chance did I lose to still be alive? James and Yelena were the ones I considered my closest friends and they were gone. But the ones who were still around? Where were they?”

“Y/N..” He tried but the words were spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

“After everything I have done and everything I have become, I’m part of the side that was still alive… And even though Steve and Tony and Nat were around too-“ You said sadly. “Not a word…. Not even a rumor that they were looking. Do you understand what it is to be forgotten?”

“They might’ve thought you disappeared too.” He tried to comfort you.

“It was two years of fighting and power struggles around here when I got here. The Power Broker and I saw an opportunity to not live in the dirt. But they didn’t want me. They wanted her.. And the past five years has been maintaining that power and whatever project is going on with Nagel.”

“Why did you agree to it? You could be more than a hired gun.”

“It’s really all I know how to do.” You shrugged. “There’s not exactly a lot of job opportunities for a hundred year old highly trained Super Soldier assassin.”

“You could’ve gone back to the Compound with Tony.”

“No, I couldn’t.” You scoffed.

“Why not?”

“Because I walked away from the Avengers, remember? Ross would’ve had my head on a platter if I was caught near that place. And sure, I could’ve spent two years on the run with your guys, living in shitty motels and only having the clothes off my back, just so I could spend the next five seeing only half the faces I should’ve. And that is assuming I didn’t snap after seeing half the team go poof.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“I credit myself with what is realistic… The better option was for me to stay here and have everything I could ever want… It wasn’t really a hard choice to make at the end of the day.”

Sam turned his head with a scoff and you saw his attention snag on the photo frame on your nightstand. It was a photo of James that you swiped from a HYDRA file decades before. It was tattered on the edges and had a worn line across the middle from the fold. But it was still James. It was still your small token of a simpler time and you were going to keep it for as long as you lived.

“You just don’t get it, Sam.” You shook your head sadly.

“You have everything, huh?” He challenged gently, nodding to the picture. “You’re hiding the scar because he doesn’t know yet, right?”

“Yeah.” You sighed in resignation and leaned against the frame of your closet. “Things got so hectic in Siberia, I- I didn’t get the chance.”

“You have the chance now.”

“Yeah, let me just walk out there and show him the scar on my face and tell him ‘I’ve had a hand in all the shittiest moments of your life. Hope you don’t hate me.’ after I’ve been M.I.A. since he saw me in 1945. That’ll make it all okay, right?” You rolled your eyes.

“If you really cared about him-“

“Enough with the hero lecture!” You groaned and turned back to your clothes. “Steve gave you the shield and you gave it away. You don’t get to try and get me to take the high road when you ran away like a coward.”

“A coward…” He scoffed. “I’m the coward here?”

“I can admit that Steve was wrong about me.” You said simply, masking the sadness in your heart. You didn’t want to believe it before but all of your actions seemed to lead to more painful paths for those around you. “But he was so sure about you, it almost hurts me to see his shield given away.”

“If you don’t tell him before we leave here, I will.” He said before leaving and slamming the door behind him.

You picked things from your closet with no real purpose. Truthfully, you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t even want to go to the stupid party in the first place. You ended up in black fitted dress pants and a maroon silk button up. As you were putting the shirt on, another knock came at your door. You turned your back to it as you busied your fingers with the buttons.

“What do you want now, Sam?” You called flatly before you heard the door creak open. “I’m not gonna argue with you about it anymore so you’re wasting your time.”

“Ah, well, that was my whole plan.” He joked. You bit back your grin as you turned to face him. “Hey, Y/N.”

“James..” You said gently, still in disbelief that he was in front of you after so long apart. “I like the haircut.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled, almost nervously, as he ran his hand through his short hair. “Just thought I’d.. do something different.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You and me both, I guess.”

You motioned for him to sit on your bed while you finished getting ready. You opted to leave the top two buttons undone for a bit more of a flirty look. You tucked your top into your pants and adjusted the tuck in the mirror before rummaging in one of your drawers for a belt.

“How’ve you been?” You asked casually as a lame attempt to make small talk. You were tip-toeing around the elephant in the room, the duffle bag under your bed that practically screamed like a siren to you. “I uh- I heard about that Vienna bombing being pinned on you... And that thing in Germany.... And going back to Siberia.”

“It was rough, not gonna lie to you.” He began with a sigh. “Went to Wakanda for a while after that.”

“Wakanda?” You replied in honest surprise as you found the accessory you were searching for. “Y’know, I saw the new King’s press conference. They’re really that advanced?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You would’ve loved it.”

“You think so?”

“Well yeah.” He shrugged. “I remember how excited you were at Howard’s display.”

“I’m a little surprised that you remembered.” You smiled softly.

“Course I did.” He smiled proudly. “But yeah.. Fought Thanos and his army. Turned to dust and now I’m here. Oh, and I’m seeing a therapist.”

“Therapist?” You questioned as you sat beside him on your bed. “Does it help?”

“Yes and no.”

“You gonna tell me more?” You chuckled.

“I don’t know, I guess…” He sighed. “She has me making amends and I guess it’s supposed to be so I can accept what happened.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked and he nodded. “Sounds like a load of shit.”

He laughed loudly and nodded, as if he was agreeing. You smiled widely and took a moment to just admire him. His hair was shorter than it was in the past, but it suited him well. The black suit was an amazing look on him and you couldn’t ignore the glint of his tags around his neck. You felt your heart swelling in your chest and it was hard to disregard the sparks, a feeling you hadn’t had since 1945. And you really didn’t want to lose those sparks, that energy, the excitement.

“I’m serious!” You exclaimed with a giggle. “She wants you to take responsibility for what the Winter Soldier did, but that wasn’t on you, James. You may have done it, but the blood isn’t on your hands. You don’t have to apologize or make amends for something you couldn’t stop. Trust me, I know what it’s like to not have a choice…”

You reached over and laced your fingers through his. You leaned against him slightly and looked up at him with wide eyes and raised brows. His eyes met yours for a silent minute, just admiring each other. Though you could tell he was searching your eyes for something and there was a question behind those eyes, you didn’t quite care what he was looking for. You just cared that he was there with you and you let yourself revel in those moments, in that innocent contact.

“Please don’t be in love with someone else.” You mumbled. You knew it wasn’t fair to assume James hadn’t found love, but you also knew you couldn’t take it if he did.

“What?” He asked softly.

“Nothing.” You shook your head and leaned your forehead against his arm. “I like the new arm too, by the way… Vibranium?”

“Mhmm.”

“And this suit?” You used your free hand to tug on his sleeve. “I love it. You look very handsome, James.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Lover Boy?”

“I missed you… A lot. I- I thought you were dead.”

“I missed you too.. More than I could ever put into words. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

“Where did you go when you got out?”

“Here and there, never one place for too long.” You said honestly, lifting your head to sit up. “I wanted to find you years ago, and I almost did. But then everything in Vienna happened and Steve told me to stay out of it and that he would handle it.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” You lied. “I just stayed away until Steve told me it was clear.. But I didn’t hear from him and then I ended up here.”

“And now you and Sharon are best friends?”

“We’re work friends, if anything.” You chuckled slightly. “No, I don’t think she really likes me all that much.”

“But you stay at her place?” He raised a brow.

“I put in more work to pay the bills around here than she does.” You laughed and laid flat on your back.

You dropped your hands over your stomach and sighed happily. Having those calm moments with James, it reminded you of a much easier time. When you weren’t hiding behind a mask and when your fingers weren’t dripping with the blood of your past. It was like you were just two people that managed to find each other again after what seemed like a lifetime, not two trained killers who were linked together in a way that could never really be severed.

“What do you do for work around here?” He laid beside you. You readjusted so your head was on his chest and you pulled one of arms over you so you could toy with his fingers.

“I got a security gig at the Brass Monkey.” You explained and it wasn’t a lie.

“How come I didn’t see you earlier then?”

“I was told you were coming but not you you, the other you. I was supposed to keep an eye on Selby but I was helping at the bar when she got shot.”

“You mean the Winter Soldier?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you hear that?”

“She told me… Nightmare is here too.” You said carefully. “I guess she didn’t want me to interfere with what you were doing so you wouldn’t be at risk… All this time and she still protects you.”

You thought this would probably be the chance to tell him before Sam spilled the beans. You were trying to steer the conversation to the topic of her so you could slip it in without it seeming like a grand reveal, but it always seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the sentence to leave your lips. Your brain always stopped your mouth from admitting the truth.

“I thought I saw her earlier…” He said tightly and suddenly, your chest felt like it was being squeezed. The sparks had fizzled and all you felt now was the smoke of what had been so lively only moments before. “How long has she been here?”

“She got here a little after I did.”

Your words were a faceted version of the truth. You and Nightmare traveled together but only one of you was truly present at any given time. Ever since you got the help from Melina, Y/N was the face and person that you presented to the general public. You didn’t have to watch your back and constantly create a new backstory because no one knew you and Nightmare were linked. But once the sun went down and deals were being made, Nightmare came out to play. Now that you two were no longer separate entities, you felt less disconnected with what the hooded figure did, and you had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not.

“Y/N!” Sharon called from the other side of your door. “Hurry up! The party’s started.”

“I don’t care.” You grumbled as you pushed yourself up. “Come on, Handsome.” You tapped his side before you slid your feet into your boots. “I’m pretty sure she’s gonna try to bust down that door if I’m not out there.”

You felt his cold, metallic hand around your wrist. He pulled you gently back to him and you turned to face him, your faces only inches apart. When you couldn’t fully feel his breath across your cheeks, you were reminded that you were still hiding from him. You were hiding the truth… The scar.

His hands went to either side of your face gently, his fingers sliding into your hair slightly. You were silently praying that he wouldn’t hit the sensor of the mask. If it turned off and he saw the scar, everything you had worked so hard to hide and wanted to explain on your own would be out in the open. There’d be no chance to explain. You wouldn’t deserve it. Despite that looming possibility, the screaming in your head to be careful and pull away, you leaned into his touch as his fingers ignited your skin with a passionate tingle.

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” He said quietly. There was a pleading look behind his beautiful eyes and it melted your heart.

You couldn’t help but smile softly as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder with a small chuckle. The movement was enough for his hands to slide out of your hair and away from the sensor. He placed his hands at your waist instead, giving a gentle squeeze as if to ensure you wouldn’t have an answer that took you from him. Your hands were between your bodies and gripping his jacket. You were weakly pulling yourself towards him, desperately trying to find a way to keep him with you.

“When I was trying to piece together my life, you were one of the few things that felt right… I didn’t remember everything right away but I remembered how it felt to be with you.”

“I’m glad I made a good impression.” You joked, your voice slightly muffled against his body.

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “But I bet you have a whole thing set up here already, huh?”

“This isn’t exactly the kind of place to raise a family if you mean that.”

“A family?” He replied. “You thinking of kids?”

“Not anymore.” You sighed and lifted your head. “I can’t have kids.”

“Oh..”

“Don’t feel bad.” You shrugged. “I was on a mission for a Black Widow assassin, the most ruthless child assassin since Nightmare. HYDRA was tired of her meddling so they sent me to kill her. When I tell you she was good, she was good… I was about to kill her when she stabbed me here.” You stepped back to point to your stomach, just below your belly button. “Her knife punctured my uterus and she got away. But by the time I was extracted and got back to base, the doctors said the damage was too severe. They performed a hysterectomy and said it was for the best.” You sighed sadly.

“I thought you didn’t do field missions.” He scrunched his brows.

“Yeah.” You replied as your mind raced to come up with a cover. You had totally blanked on the fact that you told them you just did the tech developments. “It was uh- They thought they would try it out again because if I failed, I was expendable. They didn’t want to send anyone who actually mattered.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded slightly. “I got used to it… Oh, and by the way, if you’re implying that I have other commitments.” You wondered if he would remember that you had used that line before. “I don’t, Lover Boy.”

“Lover Boy.” He repeated with a small laugh, a hint of disbelief - maybe even challenge - in the small noise. “Y’know, Night-”

“Y/N!” Sharon yelled angrily.

“I’m coming!” You turned and yelled back. “C’mon.” You grabbed James by his hand and led him out of your room and up to the party.

He never got the chance to finish that thought and you were thankful for that. You had an idea what he was going to say and you didn’t really want him to finish that sentence. Unbeknownst to you, James was piecing your truth together.

You and Nightmare always managed to be in the same area, but never the place at the same time. You two seemed to treat him the same way, as if he was the only thing either of you wanted to focus on. As if he was all that mattered to you. Not only that, but you two talked to him the same way and had even used the same names. Not that many people called him James, and no one - besides you two - has ever called him Lover Boy. He was starting to wonder if you two were more connected than he knew before. But what really tipped him off were your eyes. He may have forgotten most of his past at one point, but there was one memory he couldn’t lose.

You think I could ever forget how those eyes look at me?

The color of your eyes was just slightly different. There was something off about your face and he noticed it almost right away. It was as if there was a film over you that made your features blurred, ever so slightly that surely no one else would notice, as if there was a haze that swept across your face to hide something. At first he thought it was the lighting, but it remained even as you two arrived at the party. But what would you have to hide? He told himself that no matter what, you were still his girl, though there was a small part of him that wasn’t quite sure that it was that simple anymore.

“I’m sending the boys to Nagel in the morning.” Sharon said lowly from beside you once you two managed to slip off by yourselves.

“You’re gonna sell out your golden goose?” You scoffed. “Bold move, even for me.”

“I need her to be there too to make sure it doesn’t go completely south. If they get enough info on Karli, they’ll be out of our business and we can do damage control.”

“Damage control?” You challenged.

“Since you wanted to go rogue and kill Selby, I have to clean up your mess.”

“Ha.” You scoffed again. “You’re really on a roll tonight, Carter. I told you when we started years ago that I call my own shots. I had to protect the boys. But I say that she’s not getting involved.”

“She’s going to.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m going to tell your precious little James everything.”

“You open your mouth about any of it.” You quickly turned to face her. “And the only thing that comes out of it will be your tongue. Understand?”

“Looks like I found the right button to press.” She smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“If I go, there’s no guarantee I protect your precious Nagel.” You shrugged. “I protect myself and those boys first.” You motioned to Sam and James. “I don’t give two shits about Nagel.”

“You should give more than two about the serum he’s working on.”

“Fuck him and fuck that serum.” You said firmly. “What good has it done for anyone?”

“It’s given you two another chance, hasn’t it?”

“You really don’t get it, do you? I do not care about what the Power Broker is doing here.”

“The Power Broker gave you an opportunity to get out of Low Town and live the life you’ve earned.” She countered. “You worked with the Avengers and HYDRA. You’ve killed and fought in more battles and you got nothing from it. You’re really gonna throw away what you’ve found here? And for what? For a guy that you barely know but can’t let go of?”

“Keep his name out of your mouth.” You stepped closer as you spoke and you noticed a falter in her demeanor. No matter how tough she acted, she was still afraid of you. “You don’t deserve to talk about him. You’re lucky I didn’t knock your ass to the ground for that little ‘pet psychopath’ comment you made earlier.”

“If you care that much, then you’ll be at the shipping yard in the morning.” She smirked proudly. “Because I just know that every bounty hunter in Madripoor will be.”

“I’ll go but it’s going to be the last time Nightmare is ever seen.” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

You made your way through the crowd and back to your room. You laid on your bed and let out a loud sigh. Even though you were free, you were still having your arm twisted. You were still being manipulated. And you were tired of it.

You picked yourself up quickly and began gathering your things. You grabbed your duffle bag filled with Nightmare’s equipment and tossed it on your bed. You grabbed another small bag and filled it with whatever clothes would fit, your notebook that was home to the letters from James, and the framed photo from your table. You were leaving Madripoor.

You texted Sam and asked if there was room for one more on whatever crusade he was currently on. You set an alarm for the early morning and got changed while you waited for Sam to answer.

To be truly free, you had to get away from people who only wanted her. You should only have to answer to yourself, make your own choices. You wanted to be with James and you wanted to do the right thing. So, you would try to join Sam and head back to the States.

big bird: you tell him yet? cuz we could really use your help

y/n: im gonna meet you @ nagels. i’ll tell him then

big bird: as long as he knows, you can come

big bird: cuz im not keeping your secret anymore

y/n: thanks but i’ll probably need one of those pardons you offered sharon. govt isnt as forgiving as you and ol man rogers was

y/n: and i need you to trust me with whatever happens

big bird: i dont wanna regret this

The next morning, you were seated atop one of the many shipping crates. You were dawned in Nightmare’s suit and your feet dangled over the edge. You had put yourself a few crates away from Nagel’s lab so you could watch the boys enter and watch when they exited. You also tuned into their channel for comms but turned off the microphone from your end. You knew you couldn’t say anything to them or Sharon so you went for radio silence. As Sharon led them to Nagel, you noticed James was looking around as he walked, glancing up and around. You weren’t sure if he saw you at one point so you offered a small wave in acknowledgment, but all you seemed to get as a response was a small frown.

“And here I thought he’d be happy to see me.” You spoke to yourself as you scanned the area. Your rifle was sitting in your lap when you saw the first string of bounty hunters coming their way.

You quickly moved into a kneel and pressed the butt of the gun against your shoulder. You took simple shots, avoiding lethal injuries. Just enough to incapacitate them so your friends could get in and out safely.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here.” Sharon told the boys. “And I’m pretty sure I saw Nightmare.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged your shoulder against your ear to hit the sensor. The small beep in your ear told you that your mic was on. You figured it would’ve been smarter to keep the mic off and just do what you went there to do, but something told you Sharon was going to try and make you the villain.

“Hello boys.” You said with a sly smile that no one could see as you took a shot at a man that was approaching Sharon from behind. “Miss me?”

You listened to what Nagel confessed to as you hopped down from the crates. You disassembled your rifle and tossed the pieces in different directions. Once you landed lightly, you grabbed one knife from your thigh holster and held it tight as you headed to Nagel’s crate.

You put away the blade so both hands were free to place your small explosives across the wall and you could hear Sharon struggling against the various bounty hunters. You shrugged it off and decided it was her own fault for having the Power Broker send that text.

You took a couple steps back and picked up a palm sized rock. Though it was intended for the explosives, you had to spin on your heel and throw it at someone who was coming up behind you. You hurried to meet them and swept their legs out from underneath them. When you had them on the ground, you knelt with a knee on their chest as you pulled your fist back.

“I thought you-” She struggled to say with your weight on her chest. “-worked for the Power Broker.”

“With.” You corrected before slamming your fist into her temple and knocking her unconscious.

“Get down.” You told them once you heard the rapid beeping of the center explosive, triggering a massive blow that was sure to destroy everything Nagel was working on. You broke into a sprint and came around the other side so you could find your friends.

“Hey.” You smiled in relief when you met up with James and Sam. “You guys okay?”

“Where’s Zemo?” Sam called. You glanced around the wreckage but saw no one.

“Are you insane?” Sharon yelled in anger. “You could’ve killed us.”

“Hmm.” You glared at her. “If only.”

“Nightmare, what are you doing here?” James asked quickly.

“We look out for each other.” You shrugged. “Besides-“ You glanced over your shoulder to Sam. “-I made a deal. James, there’s something I have to-“

Another explosion - that wasn’t yours - went off and cut your sentence short. You were quick to grab James by his arm and pull him away. With the other hand, you lifted your cloak to offer some protection from the flames and smoke as you made your way to Sam’s new position.

While the boys argued about who was right and what was the best direction to go, you were looking for a way out. Your brain was formulating the best escape routes but every path you found involved blood shed, and if you really wanted to end Nightmare today, you had to do better than that. You noticed a gas line and four bodies. You reached for one of the few explosives you had left and made a run for it before anyone could stop you, though you doubted anyone would’ve tried if they had noticed.

You hopped the barricade and threw your explosive at the gas line. After it blew, you ducked under the flames and knocked one of the men’s legs out from under him before a quick jab rendered him unconscious. You borrowed a page from Yelena’s book and reached your arms around another man’s neck and swung yourself around to snap it. As you landed, you grabbed your knife and sliced upwards across the next one’s stomach as you stood before slamming the blade into her neck.

You landed a sharp hook kick against the last woman’s temple and her body crumpled to the ground. You retrieved your knife from the woman’s limp frame and you noticed your hands were covered in blood. It wasn’t enough to soak your gloves but it was enough that you could smell the metallic scent under your mask. You wiped your hands against your pants in a useless attempt to clean them when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders.

So much for being better.

You turned quickly and pressed the blade to their throat, only to see Sam and James behind you. You took a step away and gripped your knife a little tighter before you nodded to them to signal that you were okay but you doubted either of them were convinced. Though you could feel the tremble in your hands, you had to keep moving.

“What did you need to tell me?” James asked, likely as an attempt to change your focus.

He could tell something was off. He didn’t need you to say anything about it because he could see it in the way you desperately were trying to get the blood off your gloves and how you periodically rubbed them across your pants. What he didn’t know was why. That was definitely not the first time you had killed so why did that blood seem to rattle you so bad?

“Not the time, James.” You answered flatly.

Your mind was still preoccupied. Something about seeing that much blood on your hands at once - something you didn’t even understand - felt eerily disgusting. Maybe it was Sam’s words lingering in your head, that Nightmare wasn’t who you were and you weren’t supposed to do that kind of stuff anymore. Or it could’ve simply been out of shock. You had never really been the type for up close and personal slasher film style kills. Covert, distanced shots or up close but subtle takedowns. Regardless, you didn’t have time to linger.

“Buck!” Sam yelled and your focus was instantly pulled back.

You heard the gunshot and so you dropped to your knee and spun so you could fling your knife into the bounty hunter. It landed square in their forehead and you found yourself to be disgusted again. Something felt relatively sick about the ease of taking life of your own accord and you hated that it was so foreign. If you were going to be sickened by what you’ve done, you couldn’t have had those issues from the beginning? No one was forcing your hand this time but you still did it without hesitation. You turned back to the fight just in time.

You shoved James into the open container that Sam and Sharon were waiting in after he threw the pole like a javelin. The female had let off one final shot and you felt the bullet meet your torso as your arms were still up from the push. You saw the panic in James’ eyes as they pulled the doors shut.

You gasped and let out a small whine of pain as you collapsed to your knees. You pressed both hands against the wound and scooted to have your back against the crate behind you. Your breathing was ragged and shallow as you tried to get the head under control. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan as the searing hot pain shot up your side and deep into your body.

The doors to the crate burst open and James was quick to get to your side. He gently removed your hands to inspect your wound before replacing your hands. Sam came around and knelt at your other side. You could see in his eyes that he didn’t know how to help. Sharon stayed back and you thought you saw something vicious glint in her eyes, like she was happy you were bleeding out.

“Hi.” You offered with a lame chuckle. “Hell of a reunion, yeah?”

“You’re insane.” He shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“I look out for you.” You tried to shrug. “That’s what it’s always been about.”

“I don’t… What are you talking about?”

“James..” You tried weakly. “I need- need to tell you…”

“Maybe it can wait.” Sam offered from your other side. “Now might not be the best time.”

You fell over slightly and winced at the pressure. James had his arm around you in an instant and moved so you would be leaning against his upraised knee as he stayed close to your side.

“I’m not gonna die with- with this secret.” You tried to laugh.

“You’re not gonna die.” James nearly pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, moving one of your blood soaked hands up to your mask. “For everything. And if you hate me… after this that’s- that okay… I will love you either way…”

You removed the metal carefully and let it fall to your side. You watched his face for some reaction and there was no anger in his expression. No disbelief. No hatred. No disgust. Only fear. Panic. Pain.

“If we can’t stop the bleeding, we don’t have to fake it.” You nodded with tears in your eyes. You quickly peeled off your blood soaked gloves and reached a stained hand to his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, Y/N.” He begged, his voice cracking when he said your name. He turned into your touch and kissed your palm gently before speaking against your hand. “Don’t leave me yet.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered as you turned him to face you again. The wound didn’t necessarily hurt anymore. Now you just felt an ache in your chest at his heartbroken expression, a dull stinging was still in your side, but there wasn’t any pain. “It was… enchanting to meet you.”

“Please.” He begged quietly. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I still need you..”

“I’m sorry.” You whined slightly. “This is… where our story ends…”

“Then why can’t I kick the feeling that we were supposed to be together?” He said as a rushed response.

“In another life.” You nodded before your eyes closed.

James had to be pulled away by Sam. Sharon tried to take your body from his arms and she promised she’d give you a nice ceremony but he shoved her away. He wasn’t ready to let you go. He just got you back.

Why did you have to jump in front of that bullet? Why wouldn’t you - just for once - stop risking your life for his? He didn’t think he was worth it, worth all the pain you endured for his sake.

But finally, after silent tears and a tight embrace that left his suit stained with your blood, he walked away.

When the car revved out of the shipping yard, you opened your eyes and sat up.

“What a show.” Sharon commented as you wiped your hands on your pants.

“They needed to believe it.” You said sadly. You picked up your gloves and began slicing the fingers to destroy the sensors. “Once they find these, there shouldn’t be any doubt that Nightmare is dead.”

“The cloak would be more convincing… Or the mask.”

“The mask and cloak are staying with me.” You defended quickly. “I worked hard on those.”

“So what’s the story I’m supposed to tell?”

“She betrayed the Power Broker so she was killed. Her body was dumped in the water and only the gloves washed up.”

“You sure about this?”

“I can truly be free.” You nodded.

“And you think they’ll take you in?”

“I have to try.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

“Thanks…” You had turned to leave when a final thought came to you. “Oh, and if you get in my way with them, I will shoot you.”

“You better shoot to kill then.”

“Hmm.”

A few days later, you had cashed out all of Nightmare’s accounts. Everything she was owed was paid out and you were about to head back to the States. You had what remained of your equipment, though you had burned her blood-soaked clothes from the shipping yard. The rumor of her death flooded the streets and there was a division between those mourning out of respect and those celebrating in relief.

“Either this is a really cruel joke or I’m talking to a ghost.” Sam answered the phone.

“Hello to you too.” You said simply. “Where are you guys?”

“You wanna explain how you’re not dead?” He insisted. “Cause last I checked, you died in his arms.”

“Nightmare died that day, not Y/N… I want to tell him myself.”

“I hate you and all your secrets.”

“You and me both, pal.”

“I won’t say anything if you help me out with something.”

“Sure.”

“Karli threatened my sister and her kids… Can you get to New Orleans and keep an eye on them?”

“Yeah, definitely. Send me an address and I can be there by the end of the night.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You spent the next few days with Sarah and her kids. You helped her work on the boat and did the tough jobs that normal people wouldn’t be able to do. You bonded with the kids and told the three of them everything. The kids thought it was cool that you could do what you could.

They watched you work on the boat and loosen overly tightened bolts with ease. They whooped in excitement when you separated panels that were long stuck together and how you endured the foul smell of old fluids from the engine. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard their little voices speaking praises and cheers.

You thought it was cute.

When Sam and James finally made their way to New Orleans, you made yourself scarce. You had packed up all of your things and gotten out of Sarah’s house as soon as you heard they were coming. The boys were back just in time to complete a few finishing touches to the boat - with the help of the local community - and were hosting a huge event as a celebration and a thank you.

You arrived at the party a little late. You had stopped by the corner store and picked up a small gift box, just big enough to hide a certain molded piece of metal. You had the intent of giving it to James, as if the gesture would show that you were done with Nightmare and you were giving him a piece of yourself.

“Hello, Sam.” You smiled as you found him in the massive crowd. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to actually see you, Y/N.” He said gently, giving your shoulder a kind squeeze. “You doing okay?”

“This is probably the best I’ve been in decades.” You nodded. “I know who I am and I know what I have to do, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.”

“He talked about you… Every day.”

“I don’t know if he’ll see anything other than Nightmare when he looks at me.” You said sadly as your eyes found James across the pier. He was talking to Sam’s sister with his Vibranium arm extended as the kids hung from it. “I probably don’t deserve it anyway.”

“Can you stop with the pity party for five minutes and get him to stop flirting with my sister?”

“He sure moved on quick, didn’t he?” You sighed and let your feet carry you to James.

“I didn’t-“ Sam tried but you were already waking away. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

You easily snuck through the crowd, sidestepping and avoiding the locals in your way. They smiled at you and thanked you for your help - to which you smiled brightly and nodded in acknowledgment - but none of them really stopped your movement.

“Excuse me.” You said as you got to his side. “You kids don’t mind if I steal your jungle gym for a few minutes, do you?”

“What the hell?” He muttered as he saw you.

“No!” They groaned.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sarah smiled before turning to her kids. “Why don’t y’all go fix Y/N a plate?”

“Oh no, I-“ You tried but they were already running away. “I don’t plan on staying long, actually.”

“Oh come on!” She insisted. “You did as much for this boat as anyone else. Hell, probably more. Stay. Please?”

“I guess I can hang around for a bit.” You sighed in defeat.

“I’ll go find my kids with your plate.” She smiled knowingly before heading in the direction of the food table.

You smiled nervously and held a hand out to him. It was a silent request for him to follow you, for him to trust you. Hesitantly, he took it and allowed you to pull him away from the crowd and to a quieter location.

“Hi.” You offered nervously.

“Hi?” He scoffed. “That’s all you can say right now?”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re-“

“No, you don’t know.” He interjected suddenly. Your mouth closed immediately and you felt yourself shrink down a bit. Something about the sudden interruption made you feel small, your normal arrogance slipped away. “You don’t know what I’ve been going through.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as the tears began to threaten. “I needed everyone to believe she was dead.”

“That you were dead.” He corrected.

“Just let me explain.”

“You were her the whole time? Since I first met you?”

You nodded silently as you pressed your lips into a fine line.

“And you never told me?”

You shook your head.

“And you think a death bed confession - a fake death bed confession - makes everything okay?”

“I was scared!” You shouted, voice cracking. “How was I supposed to- to - to tell you when I was involved in everything? James, you were all I ever had to hold to.”

“Don’t give me that shit.” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s true! I never wanted to hurt you!”

“And I’m supposed to believe that? If you were always her, since we met, then how do I know that you weren’t planning something from that first night?”

“You really don’t trust me… I-” You realized sadly. “Tell me. What do you see when you look at me?”

His eyes scanned your face. You watched as his attention lingered on your scarred cheek before tracing the line over the bridge of your nose where your mask would sit. His focus went from one eye to the other before scanning your figure. He looked back at your eyes before looking at the top of your head, no doubt picturing the hood that sat low across your forehead for so many years.

“You only see her…” You spoke finally. He said nothing.

“Then I guess this was all for nothing.” You nodded as you shoved the box into his chest. “I don’t want it anymore but I can’t trust to get rid of it so I just thought…”

“What is it?”

“I thought that if I gave it to you, it would prove that… That she’s gone. And I’m still here. I always thought there’d be enough of me left that we could have a real chance but I- I guess I was only kidding myself.”

You hesitated for a moment as he opened the box. His eyes lingered on the familiar mask before looking back to you. You shrugged slightly as you took a couple backwards steps.

“And Sam wants you to stop flirting with his sister.” You added before turning on your heel and leaving.

Every step brought another tear falling down your cheeks. You kept your cries silent and your head down as you put more distance between you and the man who owned your heart since the moment you met him. And now, you found a chance to be free. To have a happy, quiet, domestic life. No kids, but that wasn’t what made a family.

A family was people who cared for each other. Who did things that should be impossible to protect those closest to them. Who would go to the ends of the earth and put the ones they loved as a top priority.

You had no family. Not anymore.

“So that’s it?” He asked as he caught up to you. He grabbed your wrist and stopped your feet, though the tears still ran. “You’re just gonna leave?”

“Why should I stay?” You squeaked before facing him. You knew your eyes were red. You knew your eyes were growing puffy and your cheeks flush and wet. But something in you wanted him to see how you were hurt. Maybe then he’d believe you. “You don’t want anything to do with me. This isn’t my family. It’s Sam’s… I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to! You only see Nightmare when you look at me and you only see the worst of her. You don’t see the girl who was beaten to a pulp when she stood up for you. You don’t see the girl who put your life and your safety above her own every single time. You don’t see the girl who stayed in a place she hated because she always felt like it was her fault.”

“What did you expect me to say?” He shouted quickly before running a hand over his face. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” You whispered before you yanked your arm away. “Maybe you were right, hmm? Maybe I- I- I shouldn’t have jumped in front of every bullet meant for you. Cause what did it get me? A few scars and a broken heart.”

“Don’t- don’t go.” He tried as you hurried to leave. “Wait!”

“I never should’ve came here.”

“I’m sorry, alright? Just don’t go.”

“Goodbye, James.”

A moment of silence passed as you took a few steps.

“When you leave-“ He called after you, freezing you in place. No matter how you tried to leave, he kept pulling you back in and you wondered if he knew that… If he was doing it on purpose. “-will you forget me?”

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You think I’ll ever forget the way those eyes look at me? And that smile? Oh boy… I couldn’t forget that if I tried. And believe me, I tried.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked tiredly.

“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left you that first night.”

He carefully began to close the distance, as if you were a wild animal and a sudden move would scare you off. You noticed he still had the box in his hand.

“I thought about you every day, even when I didn’t know it. You were the constant in my head that I couldn’t get out.”

“Stop.” You took a hesitant step back.

“I thought you were dead.” He continued. “And then I saw that news story about you in Sokovia, but I didn’t know if it was really you. And when you talked about yourself before Siberia, I- I just wanted you back.”

“Just stop, okay?” You insisted. “I know I messed up a lot. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I see that now. After everything I’ve been a part of, I can’t just show up and expect you to forgive me.”

“Now I have you back.”

“I’ll go.”

“I can’t lose you again.”

“I just wanted you to know the whole truth.”

“Stop talking for a minute and listen.”

“I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Okay, that’s great. Now can I-“

“It’s not fair to-“

“No? Okay. Y/N?”

“-think that you-“

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Please shut up.” He smiled gently.

“I should’ve left you alone.” You confessed. “All those years ago, at the Expo… I never should’ve-“

“Will you stop?” He said softly, tucking the box under his arm so he could put one hand over your mouth and the other behind your head. “You messed up. So have I. But Y/N, it’s always been you.”

“whatareyoutalkingabout?” Your question was muffled by his hand.

“I mean.” He chuckled softly and pulled his hand away, placing it on the side of your face instead. “Some part of me always knew that it was you by my side. I trusted Nightmare because I trusted you.”

“But I lied to you.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve hurt you.”

“I know.”

“So you forgive me? Just like that?”

“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “No, I don’t forgive you for faking your death in my arms.”

You laughed once - nervous and relieved sound. You leaned into his touch slightly and that drew an enamored smile from him.

“I’m so sorry.” You said gently.

“I missed my girl… More than anything.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I missed her, too.”

#jamecember #jame-cember #ptyy nightmare series #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #mcu bucky barnes #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x hydra!reader #mcu fic #mcu x you #mcu x reader #mcu winter soldier #winter soldier x hydra!reader

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ramp-it-up · 5 months ago

Text

All I Know It Feels So Damn Good

Summary: James Bucky Barnes was an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Bucky gives you anything you want. Anything.

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes After ...As Hard As I Did but BEFORE Dessert or Disaster, but it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is porn with some plot. GNO tipsy texting returns, Dom/sub elements, phone sex, talk of raw p in v, description of sex with condom, Bucky being fluffy while filthy, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation kink, talk of face slapping, talk of finger f*cking, talk of oral sex, praise kink, breeding kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Actual raw p in v, lactation kink if you squint, nipple worship if you squint, belly bulge, non-existent refractory period. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

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It was your first Girl’s Night Out as Bucky’s girl. You’d texted him tipsy messages all night, teasing him with your selfies and requests of the same from him.

Your flirty banter was all fun and games until your received a terse, ‘Call me when you get home’ voice memo.

You don’t know why six little words got you all worked up, but there was a delicious feeling of anticipation in your stomach until you settled into bed after you showered and dialed Bucky.

For the short time you’d been intimate, you’d sensed that he was holding back something darker, more forceful and to think of it didn’t scare you.

It only served to get you so incredibly hot. Something inside you wanted to push his buttons.

Maybe it was that, and not the champagne, that impelled you to text him what you had earlier.

Bucky was on his couch, staring at the Manhattan skyline and waiting for your call. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Frumoasă. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question seemed innocuous enough. Bucky listened as you recounted the drama and escapades of the night with your girls.

You asked him how his evening with Steve and Sam was and he replied shortly, “Fine. Until I got distracted.”

Then he got to the point.

“Now. Let’s talk about the text you sent me earlier. Run that back for me? What is it that you want to do while I do what to you now?”

The way he slid into confronting you was savage. You weren’t expecting it and now you didn’t want to say it out loud.

Had you crossed the line, you wondered?

Your silence made Bucky smile. He knew he had you flustered, having learned your tells already. You were about to be in the mood he wanted you in; he just needed to push a little further.

“Cat got that talented tongue, baby? Tell me what you said. Or are you only a whore over texts?”

The coldness in Bucky’s tone made you whimper. And wet.

“James…”

Bucky’s cock swelled. He was ten seconds from jumping into his car and showing up at your door. Instead of that, Bucky decided to be patient.

But clear.

“Tell me.”

“I said…I said that I wanted to suck your fingers while you fuck me raw.”

Bucky grunted to cover his moan. You being his shy little slut was so hot.

“Hmmmm. What made my sweet girl think such whore thoughts? Was it the picture that you requested and I sent?”

You shuddered as you ran your fingertips along your belly, playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your nipples were stiff peaks, poking through your thin sleep shirt, which was one of his white tees.

The fine cotton fabric felt so good against your skin and his scent lingered on the surface. These sensations, along with the knowledge that the shirt, and you, belonged to Bucky sent your fingers further.

“Thank you for the picture, Daddy.”

Bucky clenched his jaw at the moniker. He couldn’t deny you a thing. Even when he was out to dinner with his boys, he would send you a bathroom selfie if you asked. He hadn’t expected the response, however.

You’d only been together for a couple of weeks, and he’d religiously used protection, even after you’d both gotten tested the week after you got together. Despite your clean bills of health, Bucky never pushed to not use protection. He didn’t try to change your mind, he was just happy to be in the room.

In fact, Bucky loved using condoms with you.

The way you rolled it on him always made him about to bust. The sight of your small fingers on him when you both were past the point of desperation drove him insane with romantic thoughts.

Your tiny hands rolling the rubber on him made him feel like you were his queen and he your knight. And he would vanquish any foe for you. His holy grail was your precious pussy, and if you wanted to use condoms, he was your humble servant.

But of course, he dreamed of fucking you raw. How could he not with the way your juicy pussy sucked his digits in when he fucked you with his fingers, and the warm wet feel of you when his tongue penetrated your core?

You’d discussed birth control and you had additional methods, but when he snuck a peek of the ring in his closet, he allowed himself to fantasize about making you pregnant.The images got him so hard and yet he restrained himself.

But now that you opened the door, he could let his fantasies run wild. And dare to hope.

“Tell me more, Frumoasă.”

“Well… your fingers in the picture got me hot. You look so fucking Daddy, your eyes, your hair, which I love a little longer by the way, the grey in your beard. Those lips. But those fingers holding that ratty ass phone…”

You giggled until Bucky spoke again.

“As long as I can talk to you and get those kinds of messages, I don’t need a new one. But do go on…”

You melted at his sentiment. How did you get a man that was so open with his feelings?

“Those fingers, mmmm, they are magic. Make me wanna be a slut for for them, for you, James.”

You heard Bucky moving on his end of the line. You guessed at what he was doing.

“What are you doing, Jamie? Are you touching your cock?”

You bit your finger as you listen to him moving.

“Do you know that I daydream about that beautiful dick of yours?”

A groan was all that you received in response.

“Ever have a goal, James? Sucking your cock is mine. It’s so big. Love to get on my knees and swallow you down. Makes me feel accomplished. Ya know?”

“Holy shit, Y/N…”

“I want to feel it without a condom. I- I just think it will feel so good. Don’t you?”

As he thought of what you would feel like as he sank into you, skin to skin, a shiver ran up his spine.

“You know that I give you anything you ask for. Your soft, wet pussy would feel so warm and so good wrapped around me, Y/N. Are you sure you want that?”

You felt an enormous sense of power, and you had a feeling that Bucky was letting you have your way. For now. You took full advantage.

“You know that vein that runs around your shaft to the tip?”

Bucky was tracing that very vein with his fingers.

“You mean the one that you love to rub those sweet lips on? The one that your wicked tongue traces to my fat head for your sweet little mouth to suck?”

You gasped at Bucky’s lewd language. You were soaking your panties and you moved to take them off. This conversation was the shit.

“Is that what you want to get on your knees for? To try to make me your slave to your slutty mouth?”

“Yes, Daddy just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.”

Bucky’s ears perked up at your breathless voice. He knew that you were touching yourself.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ummmhmmm.”

“Cum for me now, Frumoasă.”

You moaned and rubbed furious circles around your clit. Your arousal was evident in the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs

“Is that my wet pussy I hear, Baby? How did that happen? Are you that much of a slut?”

“Th-thinking about you, Daddy. Always a slut for you,” you keened in response.

“What exactly are you thinking about me? Fă ce spun eu frumos.”

You caught Bucky’s tone, and also the hitch in his voice. He was as close as you were.

“Yes, Daddy. ‘M thinking about your fingers inside me. Your cock. How big it is. The way you handle me. The way you talk to me. How you make me feel nasty and angelic all at the same damn time.”

“Good girl. Now. Make sure that you fuck your fingers into that sweet cunt.”

You moaned as you obeyed.

“Oh. Fuck!”

“There’s my good little whore. I should slap your fucking face for being so dirty. ”

You gasped, then thrilled.

“Ooooohhhh, Daddy!”

You were breathless and Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. You liked degradation. Really liked it. He took note.

“‘M so wet for you, Jamie.”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be able to run from my cock when I fuck all of your fucking holes raw. Gonna leave my cum dripping out of everywhere.”

You gasped, fingers flying over your clit.

“Daddy…”

“But what if you get pregnant?”

You cried out.

“Godamn it, Frumoasă. That belly swollen because I fucked my cum into you. Full of my… fuck… full of my baby. Those tits gushing milk every time I fuck you…”

“Oh yes. Make me a Mommy!”

“You’ll be mine, Frumoasă. In every single way imaginable.”

“Oh oh oooooooooh!”

Your pussy spasmed under your fingers as his words pushed you over the edge.

“Don’t fucking stop rubbing that clit until I say so.”

He was so mean. You squeezed your thighs around your wrist, but did as he said.

“NNnnnghhh, Daddy… please!”

You continued stroking your oversensitive clit until you heard your name through the fog.

“Take your hand away..”

You gladly obeyed, gasping in order to take in oxygen. Your head was spinning and there was a giant smile on your face.

“Holy shit. That was…”

Bucky’s low chuckle made you giggle. You heard movement over the phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Made a mess all over my shirt. Taking it off.”

Your pussy pulsed again at what he said.

“You can’t say things like that when I’m still pounding, Daddy…” you whimpered.

“Poor Y/N, can’t handle the things she starts.”

You laughed and then stopped abruptly.

“You better be glad that you’re not here right now. I’d knock you the fuck out.”

“Big talk. Little girl.”

“Try me, Mr. Barnes.”

He couldn’t resist you and he couldn’t stay away. So he gave up trying.

“Brat. Be there in 30 minutes. Be ready to put your money where your mouth is. I’d like to see you live up to your threat, Baby.”

“Oh I’m ready, James. Leave the condoms at home.”

—-

45 minutes later, Bucky was sinking into your wet heat, eyes rolling back into his head. He was inside in one long stroke, burying himself in your wetness with a fair amount of stretch. He was huge. But he’d made you so wet.

You quivered around him, sensitive to every twitch of his dick, and he wasn’t even moving yet.

“Who do you belong to, Frumoasă?”

“You,” you moaned, not even hesitating.

Bucky flexed his hips, opening you with controlled thrusts. Almost immediately, you were close. His fingers covered your throat, cradling your jaw, and a thumb pushed between your lips. You sucked it eagerly as he lifted one ankle next to your ear.

Blucky’s searing eyes met yours. His black pupils took over the blue as he took in your open mouth and fucked out expression.

He pulled you up to kiss you on the lips.

“God, you feel like heaven. So unbelievably hot and silky. And soft.”

You clenched around him at his words of praise. You were spiraling at how hard and good and electric every ridge and vein on Bucky’s cock felt inside you. He filled you up so good and now you were addicted.

It wasn’t fair.

You pouted at him, then put your hand on the bulge he was creating in your belly.

“Feels so fucking good, Daddy. So good. So big.”

His mouth turned up into a half grin as he looked down and put his hand over yours.

“Gonna fucking fill you up.”

He started moving, slowly, gently at first, building to a crescendo the more you moaned and cried. He was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts and your tiny stiff mountain peaks. When his mouth closed over your tight, puckered nipple, you let out a scream.

Bucky grabbed your ass and smacked it, causing you to clamp down immediately. He gazed at you, eyebrow raised at your reaction. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, but he stopped, grabbed your hair and made you look at him. He paused, balls deep inside you.

You breathed out his name.

“...James…”

Your desperation almost made him come on the spot, and you could feel him pounding inside you. The truth was, he needed a little break so this could last.

The way your pussy was sucking his dick was insane.

“D’you feel how soaked you are?” he crooned, gripping your windpipe again.

“You need this so badly, don’t you? Go on, Frumoasă. It’s not so hard. I know you want to beg me for it. You like being a little whore..”

You sucked in a breath, remaining silent as you stared at him insolently. His grip tightened.

“Say it. You love being my cumslut.”

His voice was on the edge of control. It was everything.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, Pleaseee…”

Bucky started moving again and you realized how sensitive to him you were. You clutched the sheets as he lengthened his strokes.

“Fuuuuuck,” you gasped.

Bucky leaned down to kiss you as your sweat combined with your slick and soaked both your bodies. His hips were moving relentlessly, his cock lighting up every nerve ending inside your tight channel. You squeezed him deliciously.

Bucky’s thumb was lighting up your clit and you were running headlong toward that cliff. He growled into your mouth as you tightened around him in a rush of pleasure.

As you neared your peak, your pussy pulsed erratically and you sparked around him like a firework. When you cried out, he spoke again, his hand around your throat with his thumb, (coated with the essence of you) inserted again into your mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he said, low and heated.

“You’re gonna cum so hard, and just the way I want you to. Around my naked cock. Gonna give you all this cum.”

He whispered it into your ear.

“Oh God, I’m cuming.”

“You better hope none of my little soldiers make it past your birth control, little girl.”

You shrieked around his digit, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over your body. Bucky’s cock jerked inside you and he choked on air.

“Oh Goddddd!”

Bucky’s low, deep moan made you shudder around him again as he sped up, unable to contain the feeling that rushed down his spine when you came.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck FUCKKKKKKKK!”

Bucky pounded you out as you came with him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing, as he kissed and licked your sweat filled neck. Then, he rolled off of you and put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving beside you.

You curled up next to him and practically purred as you traced his tattooed sleeve.

“Told you I’d knock you out old man. Too bad you have to go to work tomorrow. How are you ever gonna do it when you’re so worn out? I feel like this pussy was worth it tho.”

Bucky moved his arm and opened one eye at you, a scowl on his face. Then he smiled. The brat in you turned him the fuck on. He turned toward you and traced his fingers along your side, caressing your curves like a feather. His voice was the gentlest whisper.

“Wonder how you’re gonna work tomorrow when you can’t walk, Y/N?”

You felt his dick awaken and gasped as you looked down. Bucky slapped your ass as he stood up to go to the foot of the bed, stroking his cock.

“Turn the fuck over. I’ll show you an old man.”

“We’ll see who is gonna knock out who first tonight. Give me that fucking arch.”

You smiled as your face was pressed into the comforter.

----

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