#btw i literally go outside breathe fresh air and love nature every day of my got damn life . touching grass did not fix me ♥️

[onefey]

v come to really hate the "touch grass" phrase. like i get the idea i really get it! but everyone literally uses it against everyone else it's kind of (by kind of i mean wholly and truly) lost meaning to me . i think it's time we either accept that nobody is gonna fucking touch grass or that our autistic asses already touch every grass we see and it's not changing anything

[for-bucks-sake]

Low Hundreds.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes. Word count: 3.5K. Warnings: Fluff! All the fluff! And also smut. Summary: This year, Captain America will not be celebrating his birthday with America, or in America. But with his boyfriend. Far, far away. A/N: I am beyond fashionably late, but that idea started to form solidly literally two days ago. I’m so soft for vacation!Stucky. And Greece is really cool. I think the boys would appreciate its old fashioned vibe, (although I haven’t been there a good couple of tears, so I might get something wrong.) HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAP! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoy! Btw, requests are open! 

Gif’s not mine.

They flew out of the states yesterday. Leaving New York behind for the sake of a place that was the embodiment of peace and quiet, providing them with complete anonymity.

Waves of sand collided with real waves, cerulean blue met gold as they reached the shore, looking at the beautiful act of nature.

Bucky glanced at Steve, smiling, putting his bag down conspiratorially, “last one to get to the water is a little bitch!” He shouted, speeding up a little too fast for it to look natural, hands all but tearing his navy t-shirt off.

No one could see them there, and Bucky didn’t know if it was for the fact they were completely alone, or just the reassuring presence of Steve next to him, but for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

“Guess you can call yourself a bitch now.” Steve had a shit eating grin on his face, making Bucky literally eat sand as he ran past him so swiftly on the soft, grainy ground, it came flying backwards. Right into Bucky’s face.

“Fuckin-“

The loud splash of a body hitting water told him the competition was over. Bucky found he didn’t care much as he watched Steve’s perfect form swimming quickly, receding from the shore on to the bottomless blue.

He too entered the welcoming ocean, skin shivering at the new sensation of cool wetness and warm breeze, chasing deeper right into the arms of a welcoming lover.

“Punk.” Bucky muttered as Steve pulled him closer, easily finding his waist through the clear waters.

“And what about it?” Steve smirked, leaning in for a kiss. He brushed Bucky’s full lips with his. Bucky tried to nudge his head closer, but before he could, Steve pushed his full weight on top of him, forcing them both to sink back into the sea.

Steve could see Bucky’s wide eyes when he realized what had happened, a determined look replaced the tenderness in them as he moved hastily, using his metal arm to work through every law of physics as he forced the water out of his way, chasing Steve yet again while the latter tried to get away as fast as possible. This time he was short handed;

Bucky caught one of Steve’s legs, jerking him back forcibly so he could grab his waist. Air didn’t seem to run out even then; calloused palms met rock hard stomach, legs working overtime to keep them afloat, bubbles that could be hot breaths surrounded them, nothing was heard but that muted silence you could only find underwater.

Steve buried his hands in Bucky’s floating hair, closing the left distance between them and connecting their mouths. He could taste the salt on his lips, water infiltrating their kiss when Steve adjusted his palm and brought it to cup the stubbled jaw. Bucky squeezed his waist softly, tongue slowly licking its way deeper into Steve’s mouth, meeting his in a stinging briny mix.

They left early, successfully avoiding any troubles that may be caused by the Forth of July rush. Steve was reluctant to agree, anxious as always for the fate of the world, only backing down after weeks of creative persuasion; if it wasn’t for the years Bucky spent perfecting a stubbornness that only matched Steve’s - they would still be in Brooklyn right now. A break was well deserved, and they accrued enough vacation days for nine lifetimes, anyway.

Bucky pushed them up in a single swift motion, lips still connected as they moved above waters like a single body instead of two, the change in scenario embracing them with a hit of a fresh breeze, sounds that only echoed through under, were now ringing pleasantly in their ears.

The subtle shift of the waves on top of each other created an impossibly calming rhythm, their strong bodies giving in to the ripples and letting the ocean guide their movements, happily complying as they drifted closer to each other.

Steve moved away and gasped for oxygen, inhaling a lungful of clear air only to sink down again, emerging a moment later a few meters away from Bucky, almost as if he couldn’t leave him alone for too long. He shook his head, letting the new acquired droplets fall from his bright hair down to his angled face, the small drops parting from his skin when they met his clean shaven chin, falling back to their source.

It was as if some divine entity decided to interfere, making Steve stop at the exact spot and the Sun to appear just behind him, lengthening its rays far enough to reach and shower his body with a yellow, afternoon light, illuminating him golden.

He looked overwhelmingly beautiful, untouchable, even.

Wet strands of his hair desperately tried to hung off his forehead, only few succeeding, lips scarlet from kissing and salt, so aesthetically pleasing over the background of his perfect skin, resembling blood stained white silk.

His cerulean eyes stared back, actively stealing all the color from the water, soaking it in to make his eyes even bluer, as if he needed that.

Bucky forgot how to breathe. And not as a cliche everybody says. He genuinely forgot how. Maybe everyone thinks they can’t breathe anymore, but he was the only one to actually witness Steve Rogers looking like that.

Steve’s lips were slightly parted, staring at him in awe, the left corner of his mouth curved into half a smile.

Bucky licked his lips and exhaled as he rediscovered the ability to breathe, flashing a toothy grin when Steve swam his way to him, closing the distance one last time and not looking away from his eyes.

His hair reached his shoulders, less dark somehow as he grew it longer. Steve couldn’t tear his gaze from the couple of skies that settled inside Bucky’s orbs, looking stunningly alike the origin above them.

And water drops on metal, he soon found out, looked exactly like stars when the sun hit them.

Steve approached the sky full of stars in front of him, getting painfully close without touching. There will be a lot of touching, later. For now, he was content with just watching.

As Bucky inhaled, Steve exhaled. They worked like a well oiled machine, doing nothing but drinking in each other’s appearance, absorbing where they were and what they did, living the proximity they were so comfortable staying in, forever.

-

Summer days were longer, but still so short. Whether they were spent by the beach, on the local market, or just in bed - everyday, the colors outside seemed to soften before they could notice;  Neon yellow surrendering its place for the sake of low oranges and pinks that in time, were slowly fading away as well, replaced by midnight blue.

In those moments Bucky didn’t miss home. He didn’t miss seeing the national flag everywhere, he didn’t miss tensing every time a loud noise would go off, he didn’t miss the stares that followed him wherever he went, he didn’t miss America.

All he wanted was to stay here, in that little piece of heaven they somehow managed to find, keep it close to their chests and never let go.

Maybe never was a big word, but so was love. -

Greece was kind to them, for sure. Peaceful as always, even on the night of the Third.

After a long day inside their private ocean they decide to walk around for a while, showing off their impressive tan lines and sun kissed cheeks.

“Let’s enjoy the last night before you turn a hundred and…something years old!” Bucky announced with honest to god enthusiasm.

They missed more birthdays than they could count, so they simply stopped counting. Age was meaningless to them and time could never catch up. They were beyond time.

Always have been, when you think about it.

They strolled around the local businesses spread around a nice area, also near a beach; there was a beautiful stand of homemade jewelry, mostly colorful beads made of wood that decorated thin threads. Near that there was an actual store full of shabby manakin torsos, dressed in all kinds of graphic t-shirts.

In a fluent Greek and a perfect accent that both surprised and didn’t surprise Steve, Bucky purchased him a cheap looking tank top with a cheerful logo on it that ironically said, “Captain Greece.”

“You are…” Steve began, nostrils flared as he smiled and shook his head,

“Spoiling my boyfriend for his birthday? You’re damn right.” Bucky nudged his shoulder and continued walking, pulling at Steve’s hand that was intertwined with his.

They walked past a boutique that was filled with fake designer bags, and about three sunglasses stands covered with SALE signs written in English before Bucky decided it’s a sophisticated scheme to make him want to buy shades he didn’t need.

He ended up buying three pairs. Immediately pairing up Steve with ones that had a plastic frame covered with the American flag.

“You realize that joke is getting old, right?” Steve snarked, adjusting his new glasses on the top of his head.

“Not nearly as old as you, pal.”

“Are you hungry? I’m starving, that thing over there smells delicious!”

“Don’t ignore my awesome bur - that actually does smell good, c’mon.”

-

Ethnic street food is amazing and cheeseburgers suck, they decided then (well, maybe they don’t suck, but they’re nothing compared to the festival of flavors their tastebuds experienced). As they were snacking on what was left of their greek dessert filled with rich cheese and sweet syrup, Bucky glanced at his watch only to realized it was nearly midnight. They had to return to the small cabin they rented before the clock hit twelve. Deep inside he knew, that hour had no real meaning, but it was a principle. He will celebrate Steve the birthday he deserves, even if it’s just the two of them. Especially when it’s just the two of them.

“C’mon old man, hurry up now, we need to get to our place as soon as possible.” Bucky hurried him, half jokingly but mostly not.

Steve licked his fingers from the sugar and butter that coated the tips, muttering a tired “yeah, yeah’, but moving faster nevertheless, matching his pace to Bucky’s.

They approach the place they grew more and more comfortable with everyday, Bucky reached for his pocket and drew out a single key, shoving it into its place and opening the door with a creak.

“Stay here, baby. I’ve got somethin’ for you.” Bucky ordered Steve to stay in the small living room space, disappearing inside the single bedroom they shared.

“Oh, so I’m baby now?” Steve cocked an eyebrow just before Bucky turned around, “seriously though, Buck, we said no presents, please! This vacation is more than enough, I swear t-“

“Hey Stevie? Shut up.” Bucky shouted from the room, the amusement evident in his voice, “you’re gonna like it. Promise.”

After low rustles and a soft thud, Bucky was near him again, hands behind his back and a face decorated with an undeniable giddiness.

They waited in silence for the hands behind the glass to collide, Bucky refusing to do anything but glare murderously at the clock, urging it to move just a bit more to the right. The enthusiasm of a child took over when it happened, it was finally midnight and the date subsequently changed. Bucky shifted his arms, bringing the neatly wrapped present from behind his back, placing it in front of Steve, who was sporting a small pout and shiny eyes when he saw its size -

Never really getting over the complex of hating to be given anything but being too excited to refuse it. It reminded Bucky of old times, when neither of them could even dream about what they had now. Birthday gifts were a luxury, something they could rarely afford, even once a year. He wanted to give Steve the world he deserved ever since he met him. Now he actually could. Out of all the things about the future, that - he will never forget.

Steve sat cross legged on the sofa, stance as straight as always, almost like he waited for permission to open the thing.

Bucky was flustered just the slightest, still standing up, now stepping near Steve and looking at him expectedly.

“Happy birthday, Stevie.” He said hoarsely, a sign of upcoming tears he tried his hardest to fight.

Steve looked up to the towering frame above him, after so many years he could recognize every single crack and hitch in Bucky’s voice.

“C’mere.” Steve grabbed the back of his thigh, pulling him over to his lap.

Bucky gladly complied, once adjusted on the comfiest sit in the world, he grabbed Steve’s face, attaching their lips.

“It’s so much.” Steve whispered, unwrapping with that neat politeness his mother thought him.

“Nothin’ is too much for you.” Bucky whispered back, squeezing Steve’s bicep reassuringly.

Steve placed the large box on Bucky’s lap, caressing his thighs with every movement he made, lingering his touch when he removed the wrapping paper from the bottom of it.

Bucky huffed but didn’t say anything, the knots inside his stomach stretching out and restraining him from speaking. Anticipation overcoming his primal instinct to tease Steve back.

Steve’s breath hitched when he opened the simple box. He could feel that lump of air stuck in the middle of his throat, unable to move up or down, shocked just as he was because he knew exactly what these were.

He stared at the leather journals for so long Bucky thought he did something wrong. And when Bucky got nervous, he started talking.

“I thought…well, I thought I should try and get them back.” He scratched the back of his head, “didn’t even read ‘em again. Didn’t want to because I was afraid I’d read something there that would make me regret givin’ them to you.”

The pain in Bucky’s voice must’ve woken up Steve from his trance. He picked the first notebook from the top of the stash. Opening a random marked page slowly, only to meet his own face looking at him back. Just like all those years ago.

“You’re probably not gonna like most of what you read in there. But there are some good memories, too. It’s mostly a mess and there are too many and I’m pretty sure there are solid three pages of me rambling about your eyes but, it’s me.” He took a deep breath, “it’s another part of me whether I like it or not. And I want you to know it.”

“Is it double sided?” Steve spoke after a long moment.

“What?”

“The pages about my eyes. Are they double sided?”

Bucky begrudgingly lost the battle against his tears. Barking in relief as his whole body started to shake. 

Steve laid down the journal to his right and wrapped his arms around the man on his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I love it. It’s the most beautiful gift I was ever given. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you.” He held him firmly, not quite knowing what to do but to stay like they were.

“It’s not everything.” Bucky snuffled and raised his head from Steve’s neck. It wasn’t stained with tears, and somehow, it was worse, “there’s more.”

“Oh god, Buck. You really shouldn’t ha-“

“It’s at the bottom of the box.” Bucky shuffled closer, as to watch even closely Steve does open it.

He looked under the three additional journals that were inside, all completely identical, and found a cardboard box. Way smaller, and long. Like one you’d put jewelry in it.

“Buck…”

“Go ahead.”

Steve opened the cover gently, looking at another fragment from his past. Their past.

“I thought they were at the museum! How did you get them?”

“Turn it over.” Bucky smiled sadly.

“Holy shit.”

“The museum had a replica, I think. A fake. These are our real tags. And they’re yours. Oh and, open them.”

Somehow, Bucky had their dog tags connected together and the edges, what ultimately had turned them into a locket.

Steve unlocked it carefully, revealing a picture of the two of them. It was taken recently, for sure. Bucky’s hair was long like it was now, and he was smiling wide. His own face was beardless, also twisted with a smile. The breathtaking landscape of Wakanda was in display behind them, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

“I thought, with all the things from the past, you could use something from now.”

“Does that make me your girl now, serge?” Steve smirked and closed the necklace, putting it on, the hint of tears in his eyes as well.

“I sure hope not,” Bucky grinned mischievously, hoisting himself up from Steve’s lap and kneeling between his legs, “‘cause then I wouldn’t be able to suck your dick.”

Steve swallowed, intensely watching Bucky unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers, revealing his already hardening cock. He wrapped his left hand around the base, and Steve, responsive as always, twitched at the new sensation, breath rugged as he was stroked, slowly. 

Steve eyes shot open when he felt Bucky’s tongue on his tip, joining his hand on working him wet and filthy. He groaned and leaned back, trying to get more of himself into Bucky’s mouth.

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna make you feel good.”

Steve didn’t question it for a second, relaxing his shoulders but then tensing up again as Bucky licked the side of his cock, down from his balls and up to his tip again - tracing strips of spit all over Steve’s impressive length.

“Shit, Bucky.” He moaned, hands trailing down to the brunet’s hair and weaving through it, slightly pushing him forward.

Bucky was always a tease, even today he couldn’t help it. But he got the hint, lovingly kissing Steve’s underside and fitting half of him inside his mouth.

He started to work on Steve’s cock, up and down, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin. The wet sounds his mouth created in sync with his movements made everything feel even dirtier.

“Just like that Buck, yeah, just like that.” Steve sighed with pleasure, pushing Bucky’s head a little bit farther up. His cock hitting the back of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky hollowed his cheeks, staying completely still beside swallowing, creating the vacuum sensation he knew Steve loved, drawing salty precum from him.

Steve let a delicious, desperate sound as Bucky released the cock from his mouth with a loud pop, grazing his teeth on a particular thick, visible vain on the way out.

“Fuck, Bucky.” His moans went straight to Bucky’s own hardening cock, getting rather uncomfortable trapped inside his jeans. He gripped at Steve’s strong thigh with his right palm and massaged the inner part, composing himself.

Steve grunts were getting louder. He clutched the couch and inhaled sharply; Bucky’s mouth never seizing to work wonders on him, and he was close, he was so close.

He moved his bare foot to caress Bucky through his trousers, giving him at least some of the relief he knew he needed.

Bucky hummed on his cock, exhaling a rugged hot breath from deep inside his throat, and Steve was done for.

He came with a string of curses, a mouth as dirty as a soldier’s, shooting load after load of warm cum into Bucky’s willing mouth.

Even then he didn’t stop sucking. Still working on milking the birthday boy out of every drop and every whine he had. Only to ruin him all the same minutes later.

“My ears,” Steve breathed heavily, chuckling at Bucky’s stained beard, “are fucking ringing.”

At least it’s not from fireworks. Bucky thought.

“Oh, you think we’re done yet?” He cocked an eyebrow, shoving that thought far away and taking off his clothes quicker than Steve could blink. His shirt was off by the next second as well - leaving them both completely naked, raw.

-

“Mornin’ birthday boy.” Bucky hummed, covering every inch of his face with kisses, gradually leaving a trail of sloppy pecks down his neck, and collarbone. He was about to get even farther under the blanket before Steve stopped him.

His eyes blindingly bright, one long finger tilted his chin up.

“Am I going to get another one of your famous blowjobs?”

Bucky smirked, “oh, so they’re famous now. Why? Who told you about them?”

“I dunno. About ten, twenty guys.”

“Now that’s a relief!” Bucky let out a loud phew, “‘cause I stopped counting at the low hundreds.”

Steve shoved his shoulder, then guided him back up to capture his lips in a kiss, “you’re a jerk, you know that?”

Bucky nodded in agreement, laughing into Steve’s mouth.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

J.B.B. (9)

Bucky x Reader

Content: angst to some level, welcome to the best country in the MCU btw.

Warnings: none, really. Just a passing mention of the death of a character.

Word Count: Enough to make me wish a country like this existed for real. And turns out bad throat hurts more than a full-blown common cold.

(I love you all for the love you’ve been giving this fic. Just want to say thank you so much. This has good nine chapters- and more to come- mostly because of your enthusiasm.)

MASTERLIST

^J.B.B., ^Part 2, ^Part 3, ^Part 4, ^Part 5, ^Part 6, *Part 7, !Part 8, ^Part 9, ^Part 10, !Part 11, ^Part 12, Part 13

"Are you sure about this?"

The glass walls of the Quinjet let the sun rays flood in everywhere, lighting up not only the interiors of the astounding Wakandan technology but the innocent eyes of the men who had not seen the beauty of the African lands that unfolded in front of them. The mountains were waking up to the morning winds that washed the misty clouds away, the grassland was being painted a pleasant hue under the new light, the animals were being drawn through the natural crevices of young hills and the forests were bleeding in bright greens with the first unfiltered golden streaks. Steve and Bucky stood in awe as the layers of nature's untouched artistry unfolded with every brighter minute in front of their eyes. The Quinjet was headed straight for a range with its occupants when Bucky had raised the question. He had been too busy looking at the incoming mountain generously covered in green to notice the smirks on the faces of the royalty- and his personal bodyguard cum pilot- he and his best friend were travelling with. For a moment he thought the worst, never taking his eyes off the trees, waiting for a collision at any moment, his flesh arm at ready to shield himself from the impact. "Welcome to Wakanda," was all T'Challa said.

Just like that the greens and mountains disappeared, a visage being taken away layer by layer as a whole new scenario stood in front of them. A full-fledged city was thriving in here. Buildings, houses and skyscrapers stood over the land with inherent, native allure. Vehicles moved by beneath them, hovering over the roads. Dots beneath them, that were this country’s people, went on with their daily lives, not really moved by something the Brooklyn boys were taking in with pure admiration, as it was their normalcy. Steve couldn't help but turn towards T'Challa with bewilderment written all over his face. "I thought you were the Prince of a third world country?" T'Challa didn't even take a breath. "And I thought you were the most powerful nation's face of justice." Bucky stood there basking in the speechlessness of his friend for a moment before Steve nodded his head with an air of 'touché'. The Quinjet touched down at heart of Wakanda, the home of late king T'Chaka, opening the gateway in welcome of the foreign men, who were greeted by a small army of armed women clad in what seemed like a traditional attire of combat for them. Just as T'Challa took his first step on the ground, the army greeted him by crossing their arms over their chest, making an 'X'. The woman leading them came forward. "My prince." "General." Bucky and Steve could see by her disposition that she indeed had the look and experience of a warrior. "Okoye," T'Challa addressed her before turning towards the men behind him, "I believe you have already familiarised yourself with who Captain Rogers and Sargeant Barnes are." Okoye turned her gaze towards the two men, never shifting from where she stood, "Captain. Sargeant." "Ma'am." The men said in unison. "They are our guests. And Sargeant Barnes is our priority." Okoye nodded. "The medical and technical team are already at the laboratory." For a moment her gaze turned soft. "Shuri is waiting for you there." Bucky could feel the air get a little heavy around T'Challa. "And mother?" the prince finally added in a low voice. "She is preparing for the final rites, my prince. She is expecting you and the princess to join her soon." T'Challa never broke his composure as he took one lasting breath. "Take us to her."

The meeting between the siblings had been a bittersweet affair. Bucky and Steve stood outside the laboratory, allowing the brother and sister to mourn the untimely death of their father in private. Steve and Bucky had been allowed to clean themselves of the recent battle at the more than decent quarters provided by the royal family with a change of clothes that was suited to their usual taste. Even though their bodies and wounds were clean of the grime of the inevitable conflict and regret, their minds were still heavy and exhausted by the choices they'd made and broken pieces they'd left behind- both literally and figuratively. Steve felt the heavy bruise on the left side of his face with his fingers, trying to measure the depth of the injury. His gaze never left Bucky, who shifted his weight on his legs as he took the sight of the advanced technology surrounding him in, making the blonde smile at the familiar awestruck blue eyes before a little wince came out of him. Bucky turned to his friend to find him touching his wounds to see where the fresh blood was coming from. "Stop it," he said out of reflex. Steve turned towards him with innocent eyes, "'Was just checking how deep the wound went." For a moment Steve thought Bucky had been distracted by something behind him before realising his friend's gaze went farther than the boundaries of Wakanda because when Bucky turned back to him, his eyes had a distant look as they announced, "don't touch that," huskily, making him wonder if Bucky was talking to him or someone else. His doubts were strengthened a bit when Bucky turned away to look outside the glass walls and ran his hand through his hair before closing his eyes to try and focus on a face that seemed like a dream. A good dream. The only dream that mattered.

"Ma'am," Steve and Bucky greeted the princess, who, according to them, seemed quite young to be heading the entire research and development of a technology so advanced even Tony Stark had not seen, let alone had the chance to work on, in his lifetime. The sixteen-year-old smiled at them. "Captain. Sargeant. I see the scientists here helped detach and disintegrate your broken metal on your way here, Sargeant Barnes." Bucky looked at his left side, the metal was gone, no longer weighing down his body like any other time. The only scrap shining through was the remains of the conjunction embodied with his nerves in his shoulder. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for that." "The team would require your blood samples and brain scans. Rest of the diagnosis has already been done when you were coming over. For both of you." "Shuri," T'Challa closed his eyes, his arms still behind his back. "What? You brought these white boys here in my lab. I'm going to be thorough with any and all people I'm fixing up. And their friends too." Shuri snapped before firmly adding "And don't Shuri me again. Right now you're just here to look pretty in front of them." Bucky and Steve's brows shot up to the sky as they looked at the perfectly confident Shuri sweeping the floor with T'Challa's exhausted but dumbstruck gaze- unexpected but never not welcoming for these white boys. They stood there, burying the surprise under a sheet of emotionlessness over their features, trying to be as invisible as possible.

"Steve. There is something you need to know." "What is it?"

“...There is something you need to find." "What?" "My journals. They have the names, places, experiments, anything and everything that HYDRA did...that I did for them. Find those people and make sure their madness doesn't get to see the light of the day."

Shuri, T'Challa and Okoye had gone away to complete the final rites of the King's passage, leaving Bucky and Steve in care of the handful of scientists working around them efficiently to ready the cryogenic capsule all the while evaluating the crux of HYDRA's programming. Bucky's distant look was back. Steve could see a hidden pain behind the still ocean- the tides that ran in the deepest pits, eroding the submerged lands in the darkness but never visible from the surface above. He had seen them before- the waves, though they were not of the same kind, they both were born from the same thing: fear- in the brown eyes of the man he'd come to respect the most recently; the man he left for the dead cold in Siberia. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. Steve waited patiently beside him, a slight worry passing over his face. "Steve, I need you to find someone." Steve's worry changed into confusion before taking the face of resolve. Bucky saw the transformation and something somewhere in the back of his mind rang an alarm. "Who is it? Who do I have to find?" His burning eyes waited for a name. "Steve. No. There is someone you need to find...and make sure she's safe," Bucky corrected. Every stone cold muscle in Steve's body melted as he let the words sink in. After a few moments, his lips found this hint of a smile filled with curiosity and relief over them. "Is she...are you...did you two..." "Please don't say-" "Fondue-d?" Bucky groaned before his face turned red and a delicate laugh left his throat. Steve followed. "What's her name?" Steve was genuinely curious to know about this woman. "Y/N. Her name is Y/N." The light illuminating his eyes was hard to miss. "Where is she?" "In Bucharest." "Not anymore." A figure way too familiar to Bucky entered the lab, altering his soft expressions within seconds. "Kalisha."

After having narrated all that went down after Bucky's disappearance from your life, the green-eyed Wakandan spy apologised for the inconveniences caused by her actions. "But just so you know, Sargeant Barnes, my apology is in no form a regret of any sort of having you deliver to the prince in whatever way necessary." Bucky nodded in agreement. "I understand. Do you know where she is right now?" Both Kalisha and Steve could measure the evident concern in Bucky's eyes and voice, both absorbing it with reasons of opposite polarity that concerned them. "No, I don't. But I can track her down before she gets herself caught up on the wrong side of things again." Kalisha's smaragdine orbs burned with a newfound will. She gathered herself before admitting, "She has always considered me her friend. I would like to return the favour." Bucky's smile found his way back. "But I cannot do this alone." Steve turned his gaze from his friend to Kalisha, "You don't have to," he declared. "I respect your enthusiasm, Captain, but we would be needing more than just one spy and one people's hero gone rogue." "I know some people. Good people. But they're really not in the position to help us unless we help them first." Kalisha smirked at the turn Steve had taken her to. "I know. It's hard to miss the news of a prison right in the middle of an ocean kept for people with a very specific skill set. I'll ask the general if we can borrow a Quinjet." "I'll have a word with his highness." The captain and the spy did a firm shake before he escorted her out of the lab.

"Are you sure about this?" Steve finally asked Bucky as he was being readied for the cryo sleep. "I can't trust my own mind," he forced out a weak smile before it faded into the air around him, "so until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing." "For everybody," he added. Steve heard all the layers of the statement his friend made.

The monotonous pacing had been disrupted by an unusual silence. The number of guards patrolling the prison cells had grown thin- almost negligible. The pacing came to a stop at the glass encasing the cell as a figure came out of the shadows, bringing a victorious smirk on the prisoner's face. "Took you long enough." Sam Wilson announced as Steve got him out.

"So where exactly are we going from here, Captain? We can't really walk back into the country." Sam questioned, climbing aboard the Quinjet, gladly taking in the inside of aircraft rescuing them. He didn’t miss the unfamiliar green-eyed women piloting it. "Barton? Lang?" Steve answered with a question. Clint got Wanda out of her restraints, allowing her to finally move her hands and emanate a release of her energy around her. "I don't care. I'm going back to my family. I'd rather disappoint my kids in person right now," Clint declared. "As much as I'd love to go with you, Captain, I'm with Barton on this one." Steve nodded. "I've contacted Fury. He and Hill have assured me their people will try to take care of this as best possible. And as for the two of you?" he turned towards Wanda and Sam. They looked at each other before turning back to Steve. "Do we have a mission?" Sam asked, his hands going behind his back. "More than one." "Good," Wanda announced, "when do we start?" Steve reciprocated their determination with his. "As soon as we get an old friend out of her exile." Clint laughed. "She's already waiting. I can feel her cursing and wondering what's taking you so long."

^J.B.B., ^Part 2, ^Part 3, ^Part 4, ^Part 5, ^Part 6, *Part 7, !Part 8, ^Part 9, ^Part 10, !Part 11, ^Part 12, Part 13

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