#fading scars by aikaterini | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1 Ensnared

Summary: The Winter Soldier was cold and calculated, his power raw and brutal. Grace Landon was kind and calm, similar to gentle waves dancing on the shore. She was his mission. His target. But he would soon find out that she was all he could ever ask for; his salvation, his whole world. She held the key to his redemption, the missing piece of his desolate world. But... could his dream of having her come true? James Bucky Barnes was ready to crawl to the surface and discover the truth.

Warnings (whole series): Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering,Barnes Gets all the Love he deserves.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Author's notes: Hello, friends!! Follow Bucky on this path of self-discovery, healing, and love. He will rise from the shadows of his past and turn into a beacon of hope and love.

The events of this story take place somewhere after "The Winter Soldier". Steve falls from the bridge and Bucky saves him. However, in my fiction, Hydra somehow manages to re-capture Bucky and trigger the Winter Soldier in him.

The plot will flow according to my interpretations of the story. I won’t follow canon events and use my own ideas to create an engaging and sizzling romance. Content warnings will be added when needed.

Happy reading, Aikaterini ♡

The room was cold, seeping into his bones. A solitary light flickered in the distant corner, casting eerie shadows as the low thrum of machines buzzed incessantly in his ears. His hands, clenched into fists, gripped the cold metal bars that restrained him. He bit down on the retainer between his lips, a silent testament to his resolve.

Above him, a dome of gleaming metal stretched like a dome, its cylindrical rods encircling him with an unsettling grace. Bolts of lightning came from the rods, igniting a frenzied tempo in his chest. Gradually, the curved rods descended and closed around him, encompassing his head. He had gotten used to the pain, the agony. But lately, the torture had intensified beyond measure, reducing him to a mere doll.

Blinding beams of light seared through his cells, rendering him numb to all but the searing agony coursing through his brain. His hoarse screams echoed like a roar in the room. He was burning, pushed past the limit he had grown accustomed to enduring. It was endless, merciless, and above all, effective; it wiped even the most inconsequential fragments of memory from the depths of his mind.

No matter how hard he struggled to safeguard some of the memories of the past, his every effort crumbled. The early days of his military service were entirely disposed of as was the time spent with Steve, his best friend. Each time he remembered who he was, he was wiped clean again.

The lights drew back, the pressure against his temples gone.

Then everything stopped.

No questions.

No will of his own.

Stars erupted in front of his eyes, his stomach writhing under the onslaught of pain. He did nothing. He stayed strapped and mute; obedient just as they had programmed him to act. His world stood empty, a desolate landscape with no colors. And his heart felt void and poisoned.

And then, came the words.

Longing Rusted Seventeen Daybreak Furnace Nine Benign Homecoming One Freight car

Uttered in Russian, the heavy code phrases triggered his brain, complete submission washing over his entire being. His mind was rewritten by his enemies, it did not belong to himself but to a shadow of a man; a cruel, heartless assassin, bound by the compulsion to kill.

The Winter Soldier.

Blood-thirst coursed through his veins, a raw need to complete his every mission running through and through. The Soldier did not show fear, he did not forgive and he certainly did not spare his targets. He was an elite assassin, infused by the serum that granted him the power to infiltrate and assassinate.

And he was the best because he obeyed.

Every time.

"Soldat?"

A rough voice awoke him from his daze and he turned to face the burly man addressing at him. He was holding a red notebook, a black star etched in the middle of its cover... the cursed book. The Winter Soldier merely nodded at his words, well aware that it wasn't his place to do anything but listen and obey. Pleased, the man sealed the ominous notebook and spoke once more.

"You've got a new mission. Seize and capture. No witnesses," he said and tossed a brown envelope into his lap.

Slowly, the metal restricting him unclasped and The Winter Soldier replied, "Ready to comply."

Walking on shaky legs, the Soldier entered his cell where he was prepared for the task. More leather straps were added across his chest, constricting him over his vest. With deft precision, he secured blades and ammunition, concealing extras within his boots. Two guns were holstered at his sides and he was finally ready.

Once he was left alone, he opened the envelope he was handed and studied its contents. He usually didn't need more than a few minutes to study his mission and devise a strategy. Yet, as he glanced at the scattered papers, his gaze fell upon a certain photograph and the name of his target.

Grace Landon.

His cold blue eyes drifted to the woman's face, lingering on her warm, caramel hair and the depths of her hazel eyes. He memorized everything about her; her name, her age, her childhood, all the way to her daily routine. During the last two months, she had been working at a small bakery in California. And from what was included in the file, she and followed the same pattern every day—work then back home and repeat.

Browsing through her medical files, the Soldier found out she had a fragile constitution. She was weak and asthmatic since birth. Her records also mentioned that she was heavily traumatized and that the slightest exposure to violence led to panic attacks.

She was an easy target. Something unusual in his field of practice.

A sharp kick at the door notified him that his time was up. Clasping the documents in a viselike grip, he headed out. A sharp pain caused him to sidestep and lean against the was. The ache jabbed his skull, feeling as if tiny needles pricked at his nerves. There was so much he had to recall. But the Winter Soldier didn't let him win. He brought him back to his mission, killing his real self, killing James Bucky Barnes.

The assassin prevailed, grasping control of the situation. Wearing the cold mask of a killer, he exited the secret compound and rode his bike, dead-set to fulfill his mission—the mission that, unbeknownst to him, held the power to irrevocably alter the course of his existence.

▪️▪️▪️

Grace murmured a happy tone as she conducted the usual check before leaving the bakery. She made sure that everything was sparkly clean and that the pastries and desserts were ready for tomorrow, meticulously stored and safely refrigerated. She had also come up with a new menu concept for the shop which she was going to share with her boss tomorrow.

As she peeled off her apron, she exchanged the usual goodbyes with her coworkers then headed out with a carefree smile. It was way past 10 and she couldn't wait to go home, cook a delicious meal, and lay lazily on the couch for the remainder of the night while watching TV.

The night's oppressive darkness spurred her to hasten her pace, street lamps illuminating her form with a warm glow. She caught the next bus and got off a few stops later, walking along a pebbled road. She passed through the bustling main street, then veered into a long, shadowed alley, a mere five-minute walk from her apartment.

It was awfully quiet that night and the unsettling silence awakened goosebumps on her skin. She had that awful feeling that someone had eyes on her. The sinister awareness disquieted her. A surge of instinct propelled her forward, the quickening rhythm of her steps halting abruptly with a thin scream.

A cat saw fit to leap in front of her, a thin purr reverberating from her furry chest.

Grace breathed in relief and rubbed a palm over her beating heart. She rushed ahead, swiftly crossing the next two blocks. Her fingers fumbled within her purse, grasping for her keys. Another sound caught her attention, it was supremely faint and she soon realized it. And from the dark silhouette lurking in the shadows. A man. She could feel the darkness and danger he emanated.

Without a second thought, she thrust her feet, speeding away. But she didn't make more than two steps. He lunged at her, his grip clamping onto her shoulder. Whoever that man was, he didn't appear human. She screamed but a large palm slapped over her mouth, and a metal— a metal arm curled around her neck.

A metal arm...

He was working for them; Hydra.

She thrashed and panted, cold sweat running down her temples.

A light kick at the back of her knee and she lost her balance, her back colliding with the ground. Her breath hitched, pain spreading through her. Her gaze was forced skyward, at the towering silhouette looming above her. She couldn't see his face clearly. A mask was fitted over his mouth and nose, revealing a pair of crystalline eyes gleaming in the night, an enigma within an enigma. He was clad in black from head to toe, with leather buckles and belts encompassing his chest.

She struggled against her captor's restraint but he yanked her up as if she weighed nothing and slapped a hand over her mouth. Her muffled screams went unheard as he maneuvered her, his metal hand tightening painfully around her waist. He carried her away, her flailing and wriggling doing nothing to stop him.

Panic burned her chest and she found it hard to breathe, her lungs suffocating. She fought for air but his tight grip on her only worsened the rush of heat on her face. Tears followed, drenching her cheeks, mingling with the hand that stifled her cries. He injected her then, her energy waning to the syringe's vile contents. The grip upon her mouth loosened and she looked up at him, barely hanging on reality.

"You're with Hydra, aren't you?" She shouted with an effort that seemed to squeeze every bit of air from her lungs. "Let me go— I won't let you—"

Pretending to be in intense distress, she went limp in his arms. That caused the Soldier to momentarily loosen his grip. She waited a few moments before twisting, using her flexibility to maneuver her body and slip from his grasp. Her facade took him by surprise, especially when she, delivered her strike, her fingers jabbing into his eyes. The impact didn't hurt him but startled him enough to make him stumble back.

She raced away, swift as a startled deer, weaving through alleyways and screaming out her lungs. But there was no one to offer comfort or aid. No faces appeared at windows or doorways. Her echoing footsteps and hoarse yells turned into a symphony of isolation. What had he done? And then, as if answering her question, his silhouette emerged from above. He seized her, his grasp unyielding and commanding.

"No!" She let out a heart-wrenching scream. "Hydra scum! Release me! I despise them! I despise you!"

He didn't reply.

With robotic movements, he taped her mouth shut and maintained his grip on her, moving forward with unwavering purpose, his strides relentless. Dread flooded her; he had drugged, and stolen her away beneath the shroud of night. She was powerless. Cold sweat gathered at her forehead as the chokehold of terror constricted her ability to speak.

Swallowing the ache that worked its way into her throat, she attempted to beg the masked devil, appeal to his sensitivity, if there ever was one. But in truth, she was merely whispering as if speaking in her sleep. Because with every passing second, she was drifting into the darkness, the drug making her numb and dizzy.

In the end, the tears dried, her eyelids closing, succumbing to the darkness.

She was unconscious, ensnared by The Winter Soldier.

▪️▪️▪️

Grace opened her eyes, reluctantly welcoming the world around her. Her head was pounding, a searing pain hitting the base of her skull. She was lying down, she noticed, in a dark and cold room. Memories of zoning in and out of consciousness flashed through her mind. A stranger had given her water, then injected something into her veins, forcing her back into sleep.

As she looked around, she couldn't miss the red dot flashing at the upper corner, a camera was keeping track of her. She was trapped in a small, sparsely furnished room with just a bed and a tiny bathroom. Grace noticed that the camera couldn't peer into the bathroom. An old bulb hung from the ceiling, its light trembling, fading.

There were no windows, no way out; only metal walls surrounding her.

As her memories cleared, terror ran through her at the thought of the man in black, with inhuman eyes and impossible strength. She could still feel the soreness, a bruise forming from where the metal hand had squeezed her waist. Despite her growing awareness, she still felt exhausted and weak.

Her eyes swept across the dimly lit room until she spotted her captor seated in the far corner of the room, his massive figure cloaked in shadows. Her body jolted from the bed, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was him. The masked captor. He was barely visible from the shadows but she noticed he wasn't wearing a mask. The air charged with his energy. He remained unflinching, like a statue carved from marble, one hand outstretched right next to his gun on the table.

Grace wished she could hurt him with her stare. He had caused all this ordeal. He had manhandled her, drugged her, and imprisoned her in this wretched place. Oh, how she hated Hydra. Anger surged within her, and at the same time, her eyes couldn't stop studying him, searching even the slightest clue in the blue depths of his eyes. What had they done to him to make him so inhuman?

Allowing a rush of adrenaline to empower her, Grace crawled from her spot on the bed, her legs unsteady. Hindered by the drugs, she stumbled, her balance faltering. She tried to re-orient herself but lost her balance. Yet, before she could hit the ground, a pair of arms wrapped around her sore waist. She hissed and he immediately altered his grip before scooping her in his arms.

She wiggled and yelled, terrified to the bone. He ignored her, again and lowered her onto the bed, studying her condition. Seizing the opportunity, Grace examined him just as closely. He was large, towering over her by at least two heads, his build muscular and commanding attention. Defined cheekbones framed his face, and a couple of days' worth of stubble covered his jaw. His hair was long, a tousled mane of dark brown waves, framing his face in an artful disarray.

And his eyes... his eyes were a surreal shade of deep, smoky blue that seemed to hold countless pain within. Despite his cold demeanor, she sensed an underlying loneliness hiding in his irises. Aware of her scrutiny, she scrambled back and retreated to the far corner of the bed. She refused to let her thoughts take such a turn toward the man who had treated her harshly.

"Who are you?" she asked, hugging her legs to her chest.

Again no answer came.

"They are using you, aren't they?" She tried again. "Do you even know they're taking advantage of you?"

She sighed at the silence. "Perhaps you're in a worse spot than I."

"Why are you doing this to me?" She chucked. "Apologies, I forgot. Hydra likes its victims mute and easy to suppress, right? I suppose you're in poor fate as well."

Her words seemed to stir him from his reverie, whether for better or worse. He moved one knee, advancing on the bed and adjusting his posture to match her height. She winched when he leaned in as close to her as he could. An unreadable expression was painted on his face, one that melted away as their eyes locked.

Grace fell victim to his impossibly blue eyes — eyes as blue and clear as the open sky. A desire to resist, to shout, surged within her, yet her body remained unresponsive to her commands. Instead, an intimate unease gripped her, suppressing the fear.

"I've done nothing to harm you. Why subject me to this?" she told him, stunned by her own bravery.

Once more, he remained silent, though his eyes narrowed, slight wrinkles forming at their corners. The first genuine flicker of emotion surfaced, a mix of confusion and distress. She couldn't understand what he was going through. Not even the Soldier himself was aware that Bucky Barnes was struggling to reach the surface.

"Don't fight back," said a husky baritone, the voice of Bucky Barnes resurfacing from his deep sleep.

Her heart slammed in her chest. "Wh... Why?"

"Do as you're told. Submit."

"Submit? To Hydra?" She scowled. "Never."

"Listen here—"

"No. I don't trust you," Grace said in one breath.

He took in the sight of her and exhaled. "Do you think this a game? A dream?"

"I wish it were," she replied, grief in her tone. "Please release me. There's still time—"

"No."

The moment he voiced his reply, he recoiled, distancing himself abruptly. A second later, the door swung open, and two armed men eased inside. Grace ran to the corner of the room, it was futile, she knew, but she couldn't stay still. The men approached her and she bent to her knees, begging. But what was she even doing? She had lost the game. She would never receive help from anyone in Hydra.

She was grabbed by the elbows, strong hands holding her in place. They hauled he to her feet and forced her to walk into corridors surrounded by gray walls, accented with metal in places. They were so many, it was like a maze. Considering the constant whirring of the ventilation system, Grace was certain of it now, she was held in an underground compound.

When the procession halted, they abandoned her in a dark room. The lights turned on and her stare darted on a chilling sight. The room was yet another prison, engulfed by metal bars. It was dominated by computers, with a chair at its center adorned with leather straps and metallic restraints. Above the chair, loomed a thick cylindrical structure that emitted a low, ominous hum. People in lab coats entered, pacing around, entirely ignorant of her, fully focused on whatever their task was.

"Feigning bravery is futile, Gracie. You can't escape."

Grace faltered at the nickname and the disturbingly familiar voice. In stunned disbelief, her gaze fell upon the man easing inside. Dressed immaculately in a sharp suit, he was focused intently on his tablet. Her chin quivered, her voice faltering as she summoned the strength to utter his name.

"Silas."

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 6 Serenity

Author's notes: This is one of my fav chapters in this series. I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs, likes, comments, and whatever makes you feel happy is deeply appreciated! I love to interact with you, and above all, I appreciate constructive criticism. I'm here for whatever you want to share! Happy reading.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Grace trembled in her sleep, lost in a terrifying nightmare. Her lips trembled, her shoulders skating with emotion. She saw her mother, laying limp in a pool of blood, her name tumbling from her lips in a poignant plea. Fear clogged Grace's throat, suffocating her as her trembling hands became drenched in the carnage surrounding her, Sila's voice haunting her mind.

Gracie, you can't get away from me. You're weak. Worthless.

His ghastly voice etched itself onto her senses, freezing the breath in her lungs. She gripped the sheets of the bed, fighting to will away the nightmare. When the terror became too much to handle, she jerked up, clutching the covers while a soft scream escaped her mouth. Reality welcomed her with open arms, and through the haze of fear, she felt the gentle grasp of James' caring hands.

Breathing shakily, she sunk into his embrace as if seeking shelter from the storm. As the terror of her dream receded, she drew back awkwardly, her gaze rising to meet his. Fear lingered in her eyes, but his on the other hand, were crystal clear and impossibly bright, the combination of blue and silver in his irises causing her to fully calm down.

She didn't fail to notice the change in him; gone was the fierce-looking look and attire of the Winter Soldier. Instead, he was wearing a burgundy T-shirt layered with a black undershirt and complemented by casual black jeans. His metal hand was covered, a leather glove concealing it. He was just like an ordinary man, yet strikingly handsome in his simplicity.

"Breathe... you're safe," James said, worry evident in his features.

"Safe..." her voice trailed off, soft yet fragile. "Am I truly safe?"

"You are safe," he assured hoarsely. "Here. Drink this."

In slow moves so as not to scare her, he outstretched a hand toward the bedside table and grabbed the water bottle. He unscrewed the cap before handing it to her she gratefully consumed it.

"Thank you..."

After setting the empty bottle aside, she reclined against the headboard and tried to calm her breathing. She was still wearing his jacket, its comforting weight enveloping her, feeling as if it had become an extension of herself, a shield against unease.

Moments drifted by as she studied her surroundings. The room she was in exuded an antique charm, its furnishings bearing the marks of time and neglect. Dusty tables and velvet chairs of another era adorned the place, casting a nostalgic aura. However, plenty of light filtered through the windows, filling the room with a warm radiance.

"Where are we?"

"It's a safe house in Vienna," he replied, tensing under her steady gaze. "It might not be perfect, but it'll provide shelter."

"Hydra's base is also in Vienna? Is that where I was taken captive?" she called out in shock.

"Yes... But we're far away from them."

Grace stood in silence. So the Winter Soldier abducted her from California and brought to another country altogether.

"I'll explain everything. First, relax and eat something."

"Food?" she said and just in time her stomach growled; it was a full-on roar.

In the hour that followed, they ate the sandwiches he had prepared. There was nothing but flour, bread and some honey in the house but he still managed to create a tasty miracle for their breakfast. He appeared ashamed for treating her so plainly but unlike him, she was grateful. He had taken care of her, in his simple but thoughtful way.

More importantly, he also gave her a pair of freshly washed clothes and her inhaler, which he managed to snatch away before their hasty escape. James revealed to her that his original plan was to escape from Hydra while cooperating with Steve Rogers. He had arranged this safe house a long time ago. Nestled within Vienna's labyrinth streets, it was the perfect place to hide from the enemy.

They chatted for some time and after that, Grace headed to the bathroom to freshen up. She had a proper bath that relaxed her sore skin and tense muscles. As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she traced the bandage covering one side of her neck. James must have taken care of it and she was now certain that he had also given her the cream for the bruises back then.

Without meaning to, she smiled. It was the first time she was smiling after being through so much.

Humming softly, she unfolded the clothes and undergarments he had given her. They were a couple of sizes too large, clearly belonging to him,. She flushed when she saw the black boxers, yet found a peculiar comfort in wearing his stuff. She changed quickly and after some pacing around, found him in the living room.

"Thank you for the clothes," she greeted, stepping towards him.

His eyes sparkled as they fell upon her. Fresh from the shower, her hair cascaded like silken strands while her features, once shadowed by weariness, now radiated with an angelic glow. His clothes almost swallowed her petite form, stirring a surge of protectiveness he had never felt before.

James cleared his throat. "I'll buy you some new ones once I get the chance."

"There no need. They're very comfortable."

"You look nice," he mumbled under his breath before pointing at the armchair next to him. "Take a seat."

Once she settled down, she peered at him warily. "What's the matter?"

"The matter is that I still can't believe that you risked your life for me. Don't ever expose yourself like that." He rubbed his eyes wearily, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Not for me, not for anyone."

"But I hurt you first. Because of me—"

"Enough." His tone was firm, his gaze locking onto hers with unyielding determination. "Give me your word. Promise me you won't place yourself in harm's way."

"I promise..." she said softly. "But you must also promise to take care of yourself."

"Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it. You've endured so much because of me. You—"

"I treated you horribly. I must apologize for everything." He stared at her, fierce blue eyes piercing through her. "I can't fully control myself... what they've put inside me is still there."

"But you managed to uncover the truth. Despite Hydra's brainwashing, you never abandoned yourself. Do you know what triggers your memories?

"Pure force of will and a bit of luck," he said, rubbing his unshaven cheek.

"And who were you talking with that day when I interrupted you in your room?"

"Steve. I was talking to Steve Rogers."

She smiled. "Captain America."

"Yes," he said, the corners of his lips tugged. "He was the only one who could contact me. We were planning to take down Hydra from the inside."

"Until I came and ruined everything."

"No—"

"It's the truth. You've suffered so much because of me."

"I'd go through it again if I could keep you safe," he said and immediately regretted his bold statement.

"That's foolish. You hardly know me, yet you risked everything, your mission..." Her words faded and instead of meeting his eyes, she stared awkwardly at her clasped hands.

"It was worth it. And to be honest, I think it's better that things turned out this way. Now, I can freely join Steve and face Hydra head-on."

"What will happen to us? With Silas out there, our moves are limited."

"We'll be fine. I will make sure you have a normal life, far away from danger."

"And you? What about you?" she asked and felt a deep sadness inside.

"I'll do what I do best," he replied, rising from his seat. "I'll head outside and bring us some supplies. Is there anything you need? I can buy it for you."

"I'm fine."

"I trust you to stay here. Please wait for me," he said, his voice emitting kindness and fear at the same time.

Grace nodded gently. She had no intention of leaving.

▪️▪️▪️

Bucky walked along the quiet street, stopping near the empty playground. Adjusting his cap and slipping his hands into his pockets, he stood there, a solitary figure amidst the hush. Several seconds passed before the faintest footfalls drew near, a presence stealthily approaching. He turned his gaze in the direction of the sound and offered a subtle wave.

"Looking good, pal," Steve's voice carried warmth as he came to a stop before his childhood friend.

"As good as I can..." Bucky replied, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Steve lightly tapped Bucky's shoulder, his concern etched into his features. "How're you holding up? And Grace?"

"We're both fine. She's a bit stressed but she's hanging in there, considering the situation."

"You were reckless, Buck." Steve breathed a shaky breath. "You could've waited for me. We could've rallied some backup—"

"They were about to inject her," Bucky cut him off. "And you have no idea how harshly she was treated all along."

"You really care about her..."

"I have to protect her. At all costs." Bucky said, scrubbing a hand over his tired face.

"Does she remember?" Steve asked, worry painted on his face.

Bucky's mouth hung agape for a moment until he finally spoke, "No..."

Steve furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, Bucky."

"It's for the best..." he said, though a pang of remorse lingered beneath his words.

"I don't believe you," Steve said and when his friend didn't reply, he added, "You are troubled, alright. I won't burden you."

Bucky released a slow breath, finally breaking his silence. "What's our plan?"

"I suggest you keep a low profile for a couple of days."

"Silas must be having every man searching for us," Bucky figured and rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"My sources say that he is ready for a manhunt. He's even more dangerous now."

"I'm prepared." Bucky paused then met his eyes and said, "And Steve? Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me. Trusting me. It's thanks to you that I gained control," he said, ashamed to hear his own voice break. "That day on the helicarrier... you triggered my memories. Even when Hydra dragged me back, you kept supporting me."

"You've done so much more for me." Steve smiled and hit him friendly on the shoulder. "You're family, Buck."

"So are you."

"I won't let Hydra harm you or Grace. I'll be right by your side."

"Right back at you. We'll be in touch," Bucky said as he slowly stepped back.

"Hey... Buck?" Steve smirked. "Don't do anything stupid."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "How can I? You've taken all the stupid with you."

▪️▪️▪️

Upon returning to the safe house, Bucky's gaze darted around, his heart quickening with each footstep. Where was she? Did she leave? The questions stressed him as he ventured further inside until he found her in the kitchen. A sigh of relief escaped him, the tension that had gripped him dissipating. Wearing a pair of oven mittens, she was taking out a baking form with what seemed to be a delicious cake. A sweet scent filled his nostrils and Heavens, she looked so lovely.

"Welcome back," she said, her lips curving in a smile.

"What are you doing?"

"I decided to bake a cake. I hope you don't mind."

"I love cake." He smiled, raising his hands to display his haul. "I went to the store, but I might have gone a bit overboard."

"You think?"

Amusement on her face, she approached him and blinked at the multitude of bags he was holding. She could distinguish at least six transparent bags brimming with a colorful assortment of vegetables and fruits. And there were two more paper bags that remained a mystery.

"I'll sort these out, and then we can get dinner ready," he suggested, gently placing the items on the dining table.

"I'll help you."

"I can manage." He sifted through the contents and handed her the mystery bags. "These are for you."

"What..."

Curiosity piqued, she peered into the first bag, her mouth opening in surprise. Inside were jeans, an array of colorful shirts, a soft jacket, and even underwear, neatly folded as though fresh from the store. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she realized the effort he had put into selecting such personal items, but deep down, but she also found it highly pleasing. Turning her attention to the second bag, she discovered a pair of slippers and another set of sneakers. Their size was just right and she positively beamed at the thoughtfulness of his gifts.

"I hope you like them," he said with an air of nonchalance to conceal how nervous he was to hear her reply.

"They're amazing!" she said, genuine delight reflected in her eyes. "Thank you! Really. I promise to repay you. I won't forget your help."

"You don't owe me anything. And since we're talking about money... here," he said and extended a thick stack of 50 euro bills towards her. "Take these as well."

Grace took a step back. "I can't accept these."

"Please, take them," he insisted, his hand hovering in the air.

"I won't take your money."

"It's necessary. You should have some funds on hand."

"No," she said, her voice clear and strict.

He sighed, persistently holding out the money. "I'm asking you to."

"Oh, but I can't—" she began, but seeing how stubborn she appeared, she eventually relented. "Fine... but I'll only accept 50 euros from that insane bundle. The rest will stay on the dining table, to be used only in emergencies."

He breathed out in relief. "As you wish."

"Is our situation that bad?" she asked and studied him. "I can tell you didn't just go shopping. You seem worried."

"I met with Steve earlier today."

"Is it safe for you to contact him?"

"My movements are untraceable," he assured. "I've learned that Hydra is on high alert, and Silas is particularly agitated."

"As expected," she muttered. "So, what's our plan? What do we do?"

"We have to keep hiding for a while longer. I want to catch Silas off guard."

"I understand..." she hummed. "When it's time to act, I want to help."

"What? Absolutely not." His voice was firm and he crossed his arms with resigned irritation.

"It's my choice. I want to be a part of this," she insisted stubbornly, met with his unyielding gaze.

"I didn't save you so that you can risk your life again."

"Nothing will go wrong if I'm with you."

"I..." He hesitated, uncertainty in his chest. "I can't allow this. You can't handle violence. Do you think I'll engage in a simple discussion with Hydra? Of course not. I will fight."

Grace brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a determined expression on her face. "I want to be useful. I don't want you to bear all the risks alone. Besides, I have knowledge about my father that might prove valuable—"

"You don't need to do anything," he interrupted, his intense blue gaze holding hers. "Hydra is far more dangerous than you realize. You've tasted their cruelty, but trust me, it's even worse than you can imagine."

"But I can be useful. You can teach me how to protect myself."

"You're certainly persistent," he muttered, his brow furrowing.

"So, I'm just supposed to stay here? Hiding while you go out and gamble with your chances against Silas and Hydra?"

Bucky was meaning to say 'yes' but knowing that his answer would frustrate her, he decided to change tactics and play along with her plan. He was scared that she might do something foolish and get herself hurt if he denied her. For the time being, Grace had to remain safely hidden in the safe house, far away from danger.

"Alright," he finally said. "I will include you but you must give me some time to form a formidable plan against Silas."

"That's what I like to hear. Thank you. It means a lot to me."

He looked at her radiant smile and couldn't help the pang in his chest. "I understand it's difficult, but I need you to trust me. I'm not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore."

"I know that. Can I call you James? Or do you prefer Bucky?"

"James?" he said, completely unused to hearing someone call out his name. Especially from her lips. The sound rolled out so smoothly. It was... beautiful, peaceful and carried a sense of belonging.

"Isn't that your name? James Buchanan Barnes?" she asked as their eyes met.

"Yes, it is," he admitted with a faint smile. "You can call me James, yes."

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aikaterini-drag · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 18 Reunited

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Tony swirled in the air, gliding in his suit. Using his tech, he scanned the building Grace had instructed him to infiltrate. Felicity Landon's secret work lay concealed within an abandoned hotel in Croatia, safeguarded within a vault buried several meters beneath the ground. However, the entire structure was rigged to collapse at the slightest sign of a break-in. And even if they somehow managed to access the vault, all the critical information was secured within an impenetrable metal case, programmed to unlock only through Grace's iris scan.

Felicity Landon had meticulously planned every detail of this operation, accounting for potential risks and unwanted attention. Unfortunately for them, their operation was bound to attract a lot of attention. So that was their plan for today: Tony would take to the skies, launching missiles at the building while Grace and Braylon provided support from their jet. They had chosen a specific date and time to minimize civilian presence.

Once the building was torn down, Tony would analyze the scale of the collision and proceed to the vault. He'd use Iron Man's strength to dig through the remains, reach the vault and hack it open to retrieve the suitcase. Then, he would return to the jet, passing the case to Grace for her to unlock. So far, their plan unfolded seamlessly, with Braylon and Grace closely monitoring the situation.

"You're doing great, Tony," Grace's voice reverberated in his ear.

Tony let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "These new sensor missiles are pretty nifty!"

"Boss is going all out!" Braylon chimed in, deftly steering the jet away from the crumbling building.

"So much for being subtle," Grace muttered with a soft laugh.

"Subtlety isn't really my style," Tony quipped while he cleared away the wreckage and advanced to the vault.

Grace's concern surfaced. "What if Hydra is nearby?"

Braylon grinned confidently. "We'll take 'em down without breaking a sweat."

"Can't you practically smell the sweet smell of success?" Tony said as he dismantled the debris and headed toward the vault's entrance. "Found it. I'll get the case and—"

"Uh, boss, we've got unexpected visitors," Braylon interrupted. "As it appears, Captain America and his friends are on their way. Wakandan forces are intercepting our signals, taking charge of our communications—"

"Great, just what I needed," Tony grumbled, his earpiece making jagged sounds.

"Stark," Steve's stern tone resonated, cutting through the static.

Tony released an exasperated sigh. "Alright, Cap. What's the occasion?"

"The question is, what brought you here?" James echoed through the intercom, angry and anxious.

James is here... Grace thought, the mere sound of his voice filling her like warm sunshine. His sudden appearance caused her body to numb and her throat to tighten. She remained silent, completely moveless in her seat.

"Unfortunately, I can't answer that question," Tony replied in his usual cheeky tone.

"We're tracking Silas," T'Challa's voice joined the conversation as he disembarked from his aircraft. "He owes me some explanations."

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Tony responded with his trademark charm. "By all means, go ahead and have him."

Sam intervened. "Hydra soldiers approaching from the South! They're coming in real fast, probably because of the serum. Silas must be hiding somewhere close."

T'Challa hummed. "I shall deal with him."

"Where's Grace?" James asked, his voice filled with worry and impatience.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Tony replied, feigning ignorance. He let out a frustrated sigh upon noticing the glint of Barnes' arm in the distance. The ex-soldier had joined the battle and he didn't look pleased. On the contrary, he was smashing one super soldier after the other, his face a rigid grimace.

"Don't play games with me! Is she aboard your jet?" James said and peered at the floating aircraft above him. "How can you bring her out on a mission?"

"She's a guest with a special request," Tony replied. "I'm assisting her."

After some digging in cement and metal, Tony emerged from the barrage of the ruins, clutching the invaluable suitcase in his hand. Nothing could stop him from snatching it, not even the sudden commotion. He was ready to fly away when two Hydra operatives lunged at him, coming out of nowhere. He had not expected that and as a result, he got punched and tossed aside like a discarded rag.

"More company? Seriously?" Tony muttered under his breath as he quickly regained his footing, countering their assaults with swift precision. He hurled himself toward the opponents, unleashing bursts of energy from his armed gauntlets.

"I'll provide backup, boss," Braylon declared, maneuvering the jet into a strategic combat position.

"Much appreciated, Babo," Tony said, his focus on the ongoing battle. Braylon swiftly joined the battle, his shots synchronized with those from Steve's jet and the combined forces of the Wakandans.

"Why isn't she responding? Grace?" James's voice reverberated through the intercom. "Grace!"

At the sound of her name coming out of his lips, she fidgeted, butterflies churning in her stomach. Pure terror enveloped her and she did the only thing she could think of and turned off her earpiece.

"Tsk..." Tony breathed out and checked the data on his screen. "You made her turn off her earpiece. Anyway, I'm taking charge. Fend off the Hydra agents while I do my stuff."

"No!" James cried out but it was all in vain. The signal was forcefully cut off.

▪️▪️▪️

Almost an hour had passed, the fight leaving them all panting and blinking through exhaustion. James hoisted himself from the ground and approached Tony, who had just removed his iron helmet, clutching a metal suitcase in hand. They had taken down the super soldiers, but Silas was once again attempting to escape and a serious decision had to be made. Cap and Sam were chasing after him.

"Is she up there?" James said, eyes wide and icy with panic.

"Why meet her?" Tony faced him and took a cautious step forward. "It was your choice to leave her behind."

"I need to see for myself that she's safe."

Tony was about to respond, but Sam interjected, "Hate to break it to you, but T'Challa and the Dora Milage are on Silas's tail. I had my eyes on them, but they refused my help."

"In that case, we should let the Wakandans handle it," Steve advised. "Capturing Silas is a matter of honor for them. It's best if we don't interfere."

"Agreed. My job here is done," Tony said, his thrusters preparing to take flight. Yet, James seized his collar, causing them both to hover in the air.

"I'm coming with you!"

"Seriously?" Tony grumbled, grappling with the added weight. With little choice left, he adjusted their trajectory, moving through the air at a more deliberate pace. When they set foot inside the jet, they were welcomed by Babo, but Grace was nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome aboard, boss," Braylon greeted them, his gaze shifting from Tony to the huge man beside him. "And who's this? If I may ask, where—"

"Step aside," James said and strode boldly, slightly shoving him and causing him to stumble back.

"You're being a little rude, don't you think?" Tony said, trailing closely behind as they made their way inside the jet, with Braylon in tow.

"I apologize..." James slowed his pace and looked at him. "I'm grateful for what you've done, but you shouldn't have brought her on a mission."

"It was her mission," Tony corrected. "And you'll be very thankful once you hear more about it."

"That can wait," James continued, resuming his determined stride. "Right now, I need to see her."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't wish to see you," Babo said, unaware of how ill-advised his statement was.

"Don't test my patience." James clutched Braylon by the lapels of his suit and looked him dead in the eye. "I know Grace. She will see me."

"Braylon, don't provoke him. Go away." Tony gave Braylon a gentle shove then handed James the metal suitcase. "Give her this. She'll know what to do."

Bucky clutched the case tightly in his metal hand, his super soldier senses working on overload to locate Grace. Her faint scent and the rhythmic beat of her heart guided him, and when his gaze finally settled on her, a surge of relief and adoration swept through him. She stood there, safe and unharmed, as beautiful and soft as he remembered. But her eyes were weary, just like his.

Ironically, she waited for him at the very spot where he had abandoned her. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut at the realization. He took a few steps forward, and when she didn't flinch, he closed their distance. She raised her chin to glare at him, a thin stripe of air separating them.

"Give me the case," she said, attempting to appear brave and unaffected by him.

"Grace..." He set the bag down and whispered her name like a prayer. It was the only word he could utter and his voice shook uncontrollably. He just stared at her, his piercing blue eyes holding her captive.

Breathe... Grace reminded herself as the moments stretched between them. She couldn't move, breathless. His beautiful eyes were studying her, no longer striking blue but pale and worried. These were the only eyes that gave her the sense of security she had missed. She had never before experienced this fluttering sentiment, feeling as if one look from him was enough to crush all her defenses.

"I'm sorry," he said, sensing the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"You're sorry?" she breathed in fake disbelief.

"I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry for everything. I missed you." His gaze never wavered, and she felt the weight of his regret. "How long are you going to stay angry with me?"

She looked away, her heart conflicted. "I haven't decided yet."

"I missed you. I missed you so much..."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I didn't know you could be so heartless."

"Heartless?" She let out a soft chuckle. "Between the two of us, you know very well who wears that title."

"Yes... and I paid for it dearly." His eyes plunged into despair. "I missed you. I missed you so much..."

She mumbled a hurried whisper under her breath, something he didn't quite catch. "What?"

"I said... I missed you, too," she muttered and gazed up at him, her eyes misty with tears.

"Oh, sweetness..."

He pulled her to him, his fingers curling around her with a possessive hold that stole her breath. But before she could voice her surprise, his mouth descended upon hers, capturing her in a kiss that held a raw, untamed hunger. She gasped, her initial protest melting away as his touch ignited a fire within her. Her soft lips were coaxed apart as he moaned her name and licked inside her mouth.

Her fingers instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his vest. The taste of him was intoxicating, his closeness overwhelming her senses. He pushed her back against the wall and realizing that he was getting way too bold with her, he broke away from her sweet tempting mouth.

"I'm sorry, I... I took it too far," he said, "fuck I can't. I can't stop!"

He kissed her again, swiping his tongue across her lips, parting her mouth and getting his head filled with her sweet taste. She responded eagerly, head tippling back in the cradle of his palms. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him in desperation, small delectable moans escaping her as his tongue tasted her mouth, probing in between hot and quickening breaths.

"James—mmph... we must talk," she moaned in between breathless kisses and he replied with a hum, catching her bottom lip between his teeth.

"Please, don't pull away," came his whisper, soft and wanting. "Don't ever pull away."

"I won't," she said, her fingers tracing his unshaven jaw. "I'm here."

"I know, I just—" He tightened his hold around her waist, drawing her close. "Forgive me. Please. I'll never leave you again. Never."

"Leave me?" She squeezed his face in her palms. "I've got my eyes on you, Sergeant Barnes. If you ever—even for a moment—think about leaving me again, I swear I'll give you a piece of my mind."

She attempted to wiggle away, but he thrust her against his chest. "What are you doing?"

"You said I can't leave you. I won't ever let you go."

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 2 Nightmare

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Despite his polished appearance, Silas was an old man. His features betrayed the passage of time—aged skin etched with wrinkles, a pallid complexion, a narrow jaw that remained tensely clenched, and deep, black eyes. He smiled with a sinister satisfaction and inched closer to her frail, hunched figure. With a snap of his fingers, the man who had abducted her came into view.

"I'm hoping your acquaintance with our asset was pleasant, Gracie dear."

"Asset?" she spat, her face contorting.

"Hm. Though, he's most commonly known as the Winter Soldier."

The Winter Soldier?

"He is our most successful experiment," Silas said. "Hydra used a specialized serum for him because he was too damn against our treatment. We also added cybernetic enhancements to transform him into the efficient operative you see today."

"You heartless monsters," Grace muttered. She was aware of Hydra's experiments, their manipulation techniques and the pain and trauma its subjects went through.

"Foolish woman! Hydra's intervention will pave the path to the future!"

Before she could react, Silas signaled the Soldier, who made his way to her. Grace was astounded by his rapid movement. A cry left her when the metal hand snaked around her waist and even if she struggled against him, she was easily immobilized. Desperation in her eyes, she glanced up at him and tried to ward him off with her fists.

"Please, it hurts! Release me!"

Unmoved by her efforts, the Soldier maintained his grip but for a moment there, she saw distress written in his eyes. Unfortunately for him, Silas also noticed.

"It appears you've struck a chord with the Winter Soldier," Silas said, his calculating glare analyzing them both. Could it be that the wiping hadn't been complete?

"Do you desire her, asset?" Silas asked, his sinister eyes fixed on him. "You can't have her. You can never have her!"

The Soldier remained impassive.

Silas stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. "Her purpose holds a significance far beyond your reckless cravings."

"How dare you! You have no right to treat us like this!" Grace cried out, her chest heaving.

"Why defend him, my dear? He could easily break you in two if I ordered him to. Beyond his primal instincts, he has no will of his own. He's but a puppet under my control. Ah, perhaps a demonstration might convince you."

Ignoring her protests, Silas gestured to the Soldier. "Secure her head. Make sure she can see the screen at all times."

"No, what—"

Grace fought against the Soldier until she felt his metal hand, cold and merciless upon her. His big palm spammed her skull, thumb and forefinger pressing into her temples, sending an ache straight into her skull. Having no option, she bore with it and remained frozen, watching as Silas turned around and tapped some buttons on his tablet.

A video began playing on the wide screen in front of her. She watched her own abduction, from beginning to end. Tears welled up as she witnessed her unfortunate fate. Another video followed, again, the Winter Soldier was in it, easily overpowering a man twice his size. There was no fear in his eyes, no drawback in his technique. No matter his opponent, he fought brutally. His metal hand ripped apart metal bars, and smashed thick walls of concrete before delivering the final blow to his victim.

Grace's breath hitched in ragged gasps. The unmistakable signs of trauma overwhelmed her, her soul haunted by the weight of violence. Tears and snot ran down her face and they only made the tightening of her airways worse. The Soldier loosened his grip on her head and she turned pale, her breath stopping as panic took hold.

"I n-need... my in-inhaler..."

The Winter Soldier looked at his handler for permission. Silas, remaining unfazed, tossed a purse in front of her. Grace collapsed on the floor and rummaged inside the bag, grasping the little device and taking in a sharp inhalation. Everything went numb and blurry as she exercised her breaths, trying to control the straining in her chest.

"A panic and an asthma attack at the same time. So it's is true," Silas said. "The slightest hint of violence reduces you to pieces."

"Y- you... y-ou..." Grace's words came out disjointed, laden with pauses.

Silas mocked her with a chuckle. "I—I—I what?"

"You-you're sick."

Drawing closer, Silas peered down at her. "Oh ...my dear Gracie. Are these the proper words to say after reuniting with your father?"

"Don't call me that!" she said, her voice growing stronger.

Silas laughed. "I could never accept having such a weak child. It was a pity... until now."

"You killed my mother in front of me! You abducted me. You caused all this trauma. You sick monster!"

"Ah, and you changed your surname, thinking you could escape me. How naive," Silas chortled. "Nonetheless, you've done well for yourself, considering you're nothing more than a fragile little brat."

"Where exactly am I?"

"That's something I can't reveal. But you know who we are. We are Hydra."

She hesitated then said, "Hydra was destroyed. It was all over the news."

"Captain America and his stupid friends can never defeat us," Silas said, scrutinizing the Winter Soldier for any hint of reaction. "I'm developing a new Super Soldier serum, similar to the one in his system but vastly enhanced." Another look at him and added. "I wish to enhance my body and mind, take a couple of years off my back."

"And what on earth do you want from me? I bake cakes, I'm not a scientist," she blurted out, her regret immediate.

"Attempting to humor me now, are you?"

"I... I'm of no use to you," she muttered, fear taking root. "And my absence from work won't go unnoticed. You can't keep me here forever."

"I disagree." Silas raised a brow. "I've already spoken to your boss. As your father, I've informed him that you're seriously ill and unfit for work."

"You did what?!" Grace's anger surged. Her hard work to get away from him, secure another job... All her progress—ruined.

"You're not indispensable, Grace. They'll manage perfectly without you."

"You're ruining my life!" she cried out. "What about my friends? What if they look for me?"

"Friends? What friends?" Silas shook his head. "You have no one. I know you well. You moved from one place to the other, thinking you can evade my grasp. But Hydra is everywhere. Hydra is your family."

"I hate you. As if being your daughter isn't enough punishment what more do you want from me?!"

"When the serum is ready, I need you to try it out."

"So I'm your test subject? You're mad!"

Silas grasped her arm, her agonized whimpers resonating. "I'm quite rational. My blood courses through your veins. Scientists will observe the serum's effects on you, so when I decide to take it, my health won't be endangered. That way I can lead Hydra to glory and crush those who oppose us. I'm doing you great honor."

"I'm weak and frail. I'm the worst possible option."

Silas shook his head. "The serum I'm crafting is unparalleled. It's based on a new method, never tried before. If you obey, everything will go smoothly."

"I refuse to be your test subject!"

"You will serve Hydra! You will cooperate with the doctors here—"

"Never! I will never consent to this!"

Out of patience, Silas slapped her, his hit propelling her to the floor. "I couldn't care less." He flicked his disinterested eyes at the Soldier and said, "Start running the tests. Now."

▪️▪️▪️

Grace hated Hydra. She hated their inhumane motives, but, above all, she hated Silas. Not once had she considered him her father. The thought of being his daughter felt like an unbearable burden, a living nightmare, a reminder of her blood connection to that maniacal figure. The memories of his heartless actions played on a loop in her mind, the lives he had destroyed, the innocent souls he had crushed— including herself.

Exhausted and heartbroken, Grace was almost tempted to give up. With every effort to be set free, Silas's wrath swallowed her up. He always found her but this time it was worse. She was in the clutches of the Winter Soldier. He wielded the power to make her submit, her resistance futile. No one knew that she was held in a godforsaken tomb of metal.

Grace scowled at the fluorescent lights of the infirmary and cursed her luck. The room reeked of disinfectant, its confines bustling with doctors and nurses clad in pristine white coats, focused on their tasks. Some shuffled through documents, while others prepared syringes and equipment. She braced herself for what was inevitable—submitting to the grueling tests.

"Undress," commanded a female doctor, thrusting a pale blue gown into her hands. "Get yourself cleaned up. Put this on afterward," she added, gesturing towards the bathroom at the corner. Or lacked walls and doors. It was made of glass, hiding nothing.

Grace stared at her. "I demand some privacy."

"Do you think you're special?" said another doctor, his lips curling disdainfully. "Follow your instructions."

"But—" she said, only to be met with indifference as another man pushed her forward, forcing her to move. Grace clutched the thin gown in her palms, her knuckles turning white. A distant noise diverted her attention—a shuffle of movement and resonating baritone voices. Then, the infirmary doors slid open, and the Winter Soldier walked in.

"Leave," he ordered the staff and it was obvious by his sharp tone that he wouldn't take no for an answer. The medical personnel exited the room, leaving just the two of them in close proximity.

"Stand there," he said, pointing at a spot within the shower where the camera didn't have access.

"Can they hear us through the camera?"

"No."

"What about you?" she said as she shuffled across the floor, clutching her flimsy gown.

"You have five minutes," he said and turned around, bearing his back to her.

Murmuring a curse beneath her breath, she hurried to the blind spot and without taking her eyes off of him, she began fidgeting with her blouse. She pulled the fabric over her head and with shaking fingers, unhooked her bra. The garment slipped away, cool air meeting her breasts. When she took off the last of her garments, she heard him inhale sharply. Her heart thudded but he remained moveless, presenting his back.

With a heavy heart, she stepped into the shower. Her tears mingled with the flowing stream, her sobs indistinguishable from the rhythm of the falling water. She washed quickly and got dressed, her eyes red, her wet body shaking beneath the thin fabric of the hospital gown.

"I'm finished," she whispered, her voice barely recognizable, even to her own ears. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her naked feet, too sheepish to even face him.

Unfazed by her unease, he watched her intently, similar to a hawk. A spark lit up his eyes but it vanished the moment the medics returned to the room. From then on, everything happened in a blur. They drew her blood, checked her vitals and evaluated her physical condition, all while scribbling notes and speaking in the background.

Throughout the examination, the Soldier didn't leave the infirmary. He stayed rooted to his spot in the shadows, his stare locked on every person who was treating her. Grace didn't know whether to feel relieved or scared. As time wore on, her exhaustion deepened. She was ready to fall asleep from exhaustion when one of the doctors spoke up.

"We're done for now. Asset, take her to her room. Ensure she rests and follows the prescribed diet."

Coming out from the shadows, the Soldier nodded and clasped her elbow, leading the way. She staggered and commanded her feet to walk and take her away from the infirmary. Back in her miserable room, her glare fixated on the small red dot of the surveillance camera, a constant reminder that her every move was under watch. She yearned to escape but the anguish in her chest threatened to consume her. How could she ever escape Silas?

Her thoughts scattered when the Soldier guided her toward the bed. He ushered her toward the mattress and cupping her shoulders, moved her to sit on the hard mattress. With a subtle bob of his head, he prompted her to lie down and rest.

"Do you have a name?" she asked before she became too tense to function.

Predictably, silence met her query.

"You must have a name."

The Soldier stared at her, his lips set in one thin line.

"You keep staring at me. Why?"

"I'm keeping an eye on you. It's my job."

"How can you be working for Silas?" Her voice was resigned, desperation creeping up her tone. "He's evil. Hydra is evil!"

"Rest," he said coldly, leaving little room for further inquiry.

"Wait!" Without considering, she raised her hands to clutch his fleshy arm. "Help me and I swear I'll forget what transpired between us."

He removed her grip and scowled. "Submit."

"I can't." Grace reached out, her desperation spurring her forward. "Help me escape. I promise I'll find a way to repay you. I'm not like my father. Please... Please."

"Rest," he said, his tone devoid of emotion.

"Please," she pleaded, collapsing at his feet in a heap of sobs.

He remained impassive, his gaze fixed on some distant point, avoiding her tearful eyes.

"No one can help me escape this nightmare." Grace shook her head, her heartache palpable. "Silas has been stalking my life without end. If I can't bear this any longer perhaps..."

Tears continued to cascade down her cheeks as desperation fueled her words. "I don't care about the danger. Anything is better than this."

Recklessly, she dashed past him and toward the door. Her fingers were about to clutch the doorknob when he yanked her back, her body pressing against a solid wall of muscle. Her struggles were futile against his unrelenting hold, her attempts to break free met with unwavering resistance.

"That was the most foolish thing you could do," he hissed into her ear.

"What does it matter?" she spat back. "I'm trapped, my every move is watched. What do I have to lose?"

His grip tightened as he attempted to maneuver her toward the bed, but her resistance was fierce that he couldn't make her settle. Amidst the fighting, she managed to evade him, her unsteady steps sending her off balance. She sidesteps and, unsteady as she was, she stumbled, a painful sound accompanying her fall. She swallowed back her sobs, despite the fat tears rolling down her pale face. She was on overload, hanging between hope and insanity.

Eventually, she passed out.

Falling into pieces.

Unconscious from tiredness and severe stress, she didn't register when he carried her into the bed. Her form curled, appearing so small in contrast to his physique looming above her. Her tears still clung to her face and her cheek was stark red, from where Silas had slapped her. But the true pain lay deeper and was caused by none other than himself. The gown she was wearing was almost transparent, bearing the marks his metal hand had left along her waist, all the way to her stomach. He had branded her, compressed her unbearably tight.

The sight of her bruised body was tearing him apart. Without arousing suspicion, he retrieved a small vial from the pocket of his vest and placed it into her open palm. Then, he left, the heartless facade of the assassin plastered on his face.

What did he give her? Show some love ❤️ Please?

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aikaterini-drag · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 19 Unravelled

Warnings (this chapter): MINORS DON’T INTERACT‼️, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Soft Bucky Barnes.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

"James, that's enough hugging. Let me go," she chuckled playfully, trying to wriggle out of his tight embrace.

"I can't leave you. I must make up for the time we spent apart," he said, and to prove his point, held her a little closer.

"All these months apart... have you been doing alright?"

He mustered a weak smile. "As okay as I could. I'm a super soldier, you don't have to worry about me."

"No, you are Sergeant Barnes—foolish, reckless and stubborn." A single tear escaped her eye, and she quickly brushed it away, resting her head against his chest.

"Oh, Grace..." Gently, he tilted her chin up, his fingers caressing her cheeks.

"Don't 'Grace me'," she muttered, her voice quivering with restrained sobs.

"Then don't cry."

"I'll do what I want."

"Anything else but crying," he said. He couldn't stand the sight of her crying. It broke his heart.

"James..." she said, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

"Don't 'James me'," he teased with a soft kiss on her lips.

"You're like a never-ending headache," she muttered, lightly play-punching his chest.

"I'm sorry. A thousand times sorry."

"Sorry for what exactly? For leaving? Or for hiding the past?"

"What?"

"I remember, James. I remember it all. I know that you were the one who saved me the day my mother was killed," she said, her voice laden with raw emotion

"H... how..." he stammered, mouth agape. "When did this happen? How did you—"

"It just happened." She sighed. "Why did you hide the truth from me?"

"Because I didn't want to bring back painful memories you had chosen to forget," he explained. "The pain, the anguish... it wouldn't do you any good if you recalled them."

"Well, things have changed now... I give you my word that I'll do better from now on."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'll hold you to that, James. No more secrets between us."

"No more secrets."

"Thank you for saving me," she said, her fingers tracing the contours of his face tenderly. "You've always been my protector."

"No. Thank you," he said and reached to hold her hand with his good one, squeezing it tightly in assurance. "For some reason, you triggered me. You always do."

You are my world... he thoughtbut kept this thought to himself.He stayed silent for a few moments, mustering the courage to say what was troubling him lately. And she sensed his inner turmoil. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"What's wrong?"

"If I ever..." His throat constricted as he tried to talk. "If I were ever to... lose control again if my mind were to be manipulated, I'm afraid of what I might become. I need you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

"If I'm brainwashed, I might need some time to return to normal. Or none at all. I might lose it, Grace." She tried to speak, but he cupped her face, determined to get his point across. "Promise me that if it ever comes to that, you won't hesitate to defend yourself. Even if it means using force against me.

Her face contorted. "James, I can't—"

"If I ever get too close, you can use any weapon against me."

"I won't need to." She inhaled a sharp breath and looked up at him. "We'll work together from now on. There's a lot to do because this time, I plan to be the one to protect you."

His eyes crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"You'll find out in a matter of seconds."

His worry only seemed to deepen. "Now you've got me even more curious."

She dismissed his obvious concern and explained, "I came here today to retrieve some of my mother's belongings. I knew I couldn't do it alone, so Tony agreed to help and keep me safe."

Not a wise move. Hydra was there. It was sheer luck that we managed to locate you," he remarked, a tense edge to his tone. "What if they had captured you? What if..." he trailed off, his unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air.

"I'd do it all over again," she replied, drawing a widened look of disbelief from him.

Nothing will ever be worth losing you, he thought, tense and sentimental.

"I understand these were your mother's belongings, but even so—"

"Not just any belongings," she said and gestured toward to suitcase. "What Tony retrieved from that building is a priceless treasure."

"The suitcase?" James asked blankly. He knew, from his days as The Winter Soldier, that Felicity Landon was a remarkable scientist, and perhaps the only person to have challenged Hydra. But he was never given any details, as usual.

"Inside the case lies the cure against Hydra's most powerful weapon." She paused and fondled his temples. "Brainwashing."

"Impossible..." His voice trailed off, a mixture of disbelief and hope warring within him.

"That's impossible..."

"Trust me. This is the real thing. My mother confided this secret to me, and only to me." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips sweetly. "Let's find the others and sort things out as soon as possible. Are you ready?"

"Wait," he said, his arms coming around her, pressing her breasts to his chest.

"What— hmm..."

The rest of her words dissolved under the gentle pressure of his lips against hers. His kiss was unhurried, a testament to his patience and the depth of his emotions. Fingers brushed a tendril of her caramel hair behind her ear, the touch both comforting and electrifying. His other arm encircled her with deliberate care, the intimacy arousing a sense of security and longing.

She melted against him, her own arms finding their way around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss intensified. A deliciously sweet moan left her when his tongue traced the seam of her mouth before delving inside. She fitted herself in the cradle of his thighs, his hard bulge swelling and enlarging.

"We—we...I...I need to behave," he rasped, even as her teeth grazed sinfully along his jawline.

"And I say... let's go to my quarters."

"If we do that, I'll lose all semblance of restraint," he protested even as desire flared in his eyes.

"Sometimes it's okay to follow your impulses," she cut him off and leaned up to meet his fiery stare. Warm brown met bright blue and she knew, she knew that there was no going back.

They trudged through the narrow aircraft corridors with Grace clinging to him, her lips tracing tender paths on his cheeks and then his mouth. Once inside her room, James locked the door and set aside the suitcase. They collapsed on the bed with him squeezing her down on the mattress. His wide shoulders formed a protective curve around her, his arms enveloping her protectively.

Grace smiled at him, perfectly content and comfortable with the silk sheets brushing against her back. She was impossibly aroused, a deep red blush coloring her neck, sweet essence leaking from her center. Their mouths melded together, tongues intertwining in a sensual dance, bodies feverish with the need to release.

"Ah... Grace... I'm... " he drew back, but she clutched his vest and pushed him back down.

"Shh... stay here, Sergeant." She took his fleshly hand and laid atop her beating heart. "I missed you. I missed having you close."

"I couldn't sleep knowing you weren't close to me," he whispered, his lips pressing a loving kiss against the spot above her heart. He had missed her scent, her softness. Only she felt so good. She was a soft place of relief and safety. Home.

With this thought, he leaned down to kiss her again, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She provoked him and nipped at his lips, catching the flesh of his bottom lip between her teeth. He moaned and guided his fingers to remove her clothes. She did the same and tugged at his outfit until there was nothing left but a thin strip of air separating their naked bodies.

"Grace..." he rasped, their heavy breathing mingling as he devoured her lips.

"James.... mnn...need you inside me."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her words startled him to the core. She sent him a sultry gaze from beneath her lashes, and he immediately gripped the sheets with both hands, torn between restraint and desire. She was warm and inviting, in every way, doing nothing to help him gain his composure.

"Slow... we must—"

"We must make up for the time we missed," she countered, her hands tracing the contours of his sculpted chest and strong shoulders.

"Do you really want me to touch you?" he drawled as her lips peppered kisses across his jaw.

"I do. Don't you want this?"

"I want this with all my heart," he murmured in her ear.

"Then stop holding back."

"It's..." he sighed. "It's not that simple. It's been so long since I've done this and—"

"So what? You know I've never slept with another man—"

"Are you saying these wonderful things on purpose?"

"I'm only speaking the truth," she smiled, sending a startling jolt through his heart.

He kissed her roughly, eliciting a moan from her sweet lips. "You're seducing me, little temptress."

"Please... making love to another is simple."

"I'm far from simple. I'm a super soldier. I'm not normal. What if—"

"You won't lose control," she said and closed her hands over his cock, rubbing circles on the leaking head. "You'll never hurt me. I trust you. Completely."

He growled, her touch driving him mad with longing. "At the slightest sign of discomfort, you tell me. I will stop. Understood?"

"Hmm... I promise."

At her confession, he could no longer think. He rocked eagerly into her hand, his cock filling further. Drawing back on his haunches, he admired the splendid view. She looked so beautiful, her body porcelain soft yet flushed with marks of his kisses. Her thighs lay parted on either side of his legs, exposing pink pussy lips and glistening wetness. Her breasts swayed gently with each breath, her back arching towards him, calling him to her.

James accepted the invitation, pressing his right hand against her mound while his lips brushed hungrily over her breasts. He took each nipple between his lips and suckled gently, moaning softly at the taste of her. Her stomach somersaulted at the double sensations, shivering at the feel of his metal fingers, cold and hard as they played with the petals of her womanhood.

He wanted to kiss her. Taste her.

Moistening his lips, he trailed one fleshly finger across the seam of her pussy, then rubbed across the sensitive bud on top. Meanwhile, his mechanic hand teased her breasts with utter care, the coldness of the metal causing shivers to travel through her. He planted a sweet kiss on her folds and drove one thick finger inside her, her surprised moan causing him to stop.

"Too much?" He watched her with his face painted with worry. "I can stop if—"

"No, please don't. Keep going," she begged softly.

"Is it good?" he whispered as he slowly resumed thrusting his finger, studying her every expression closely.

"Hmmm... feels amazing."

Raising her hips up, he rested each leg over his shoulders, opening her up to him. Then he devoured her in earnest, the tip of his nose nudging her clit as his finger stretched her walls. With a desperate whine, she forked her fingers through his hair and gyrated her waist, buckling against his sinful mouth and finger.

Moist-sucking noises resounded through the room, his metal hand settled comfortingly over her stomach. She shuddered when a second digit joined in. The intrusion was strange at first, but she quickly stretched around and accepted. He was touching her so expertly, desire coursing through her.

"Oh... James... I'm—"

Her words ended abruptly, white-hot fires lighting up inside her. It was a wonderful sensation; her body was so hot and before she could stop it, it shattered into a million pieces. She cried out his name and came undone, her chest rising and falling with shuddering breaths. He swallowed her moans, giving her a taste of her sweet and spicy essence.

The head his cock fell hard and heavy over her stomach, the head leaking pre-cum in her belly bottom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, legs draping over his thighs as his swollen shaft came to rest against her folds. He teased her without penetrating, his hardness glistening with her juices. She attempted to get the head inside her, but his palms held her steady.

She shuddered. "Mnn... Please... want you."

"Trust me... I'll get there. I want you so much."

With a low growl deep within his chest, he kissed her, softly, tenderly, and at the same time, he slowly eased the tip inside, raw and pulsating, his lips never leaving hers. She moaned in his mouth at the initial breach, pleasure and pain mixing together. He pushed his hips forward, filling her up inch by inch. Molten pools of blue peered at her when he buried himself to the hilt, surrounded by her in every sense.

Her breath hitched at the incredible fullness and her hands scrambled over his biceps, clawing at him. The pain of the burn and stretch slowly faded and got replaced by liquid heat. Strangled moans followed from both of them as he drew his hips back, watching the delicate lips as they tried to suck him back in. When he noticed the streaks of blood around his shaft, he froze, his face pale.

"Please don't hate me. Please, please..." he pleaded, kissing lightly all around her face.

"James Bucky Barnes," she said, fondling his cheeks. "I could never hate you. Never."

"Should I stop? I hurt you."

"No. You are so sweet and gentle." She traced his lips with her fingers, basking in the sensation of having him so deep inside her. "I'm not hurting. I need to feel more of you. Please."

The faith he saw there convinced him and he slowly moved his hips, claiming her body. A soundtrack of pleas and wet kisses played out as their bodies collided. She squirmed and answered his thrusts, feeling every delicious ridge of him, tendrils of rapture coiling. She sensed his fleshly fingers teasing her folds, exploring the stretched area as they moved together as one. When his fingertips circled around her clit, she shifted restlessly, seeing stars at the combined ministrations.

"That's it, sweetness. You're almost there. Let go, come for me. You're so warm, so perfect and soft."

In an instant, an electric sensation coursed through her body, igniting a fierce and uncontrollable convulsion. She clamped around his cock, hard and dug her fingers into his back, exquisite ecstasy washing over her. She squeezed his throbbing cock like a vice, and he continued to push into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over again.

When the first tremors of release rippled through him, he pulled all the way out and pumped his cock in his fist, spilling himself onto her belly. Her eyes, though hazy and misty from bliss, never left him as he touched himself. He panted violently and she brought her fingers to thread through his hair and caress him lovingly.

When he came back to reality, he stood still above her, gazing at her glowing face and twinkling eyes. The fact that she had trusted him and given him her first time... he couldn't fathom how fortunate he was. Finally, some positivity and sweetness had crept into his life, proving to him that dreams did come true.

Grace committed the beauty of their union to memory, her lips stretched in a blissful smile. She moaned in contempt when he settled beside her, slipping his right hand under her head to cradle her close. She curled into him and nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck while he placed a loving and tender kiss into the crown of her hair.

"This was dreamy," she said, fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on the smooth expanse of his chest.

James lifted her chin and met her gaze. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"Do you have to ask?" She half-laughed. "I practically melted in your arms."

"You did. You're right. I'm a fool."

"It's to be expected. You've had little practice."

"Is that irony I detect in your tone?"

"Perhaps just a touch..." she teased, tracing her fingers over his cheekbones. "I am eager to help you practice the art of lovemaking."

A mischievous spark gleamed in his eyes. "That’s… a tempting proposition."

"So... you accept?"

"Do you have to ask?" he said, kissing her sensually on the lips.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x ofc #alpha bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x fluff #fading scars by aikaterini

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aikaterini-drag · 8 months ago

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Chapter 15 Wronged

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Almost a month had passed ever since the team of three began to infiltrate Hydra compounds. Using his experience as the Winter Soldier, Bucky guided Steve and Sam through a series of potential locations. At first, their attempts yielded no results. Five bases had been checked out, each revealing nothing but desolate remains.

But when they arrived at the HYDRA Herefordshire Facility in England, chaos erupted. Armed agents swarmed the vicinity, engaging in fierce combat on all fronts. Steve and James counterattacked from carefully chosen positions on the ground, while Sam fought from the distance, using his wings to fly above his targets. Silas was giving orders to his men from his hiding spot and engineered the perfect distraction: Rumlow.

The Hydra operative came running through a fortified wall, creating an opening with the sheer force of his body.

"Watch out! On your left!"

Sam's voice cut through the battle as Bucky turned to face Rumlow, who was charging straight at him. Bucky changed direction and ran fast down a corridor, but even with his superhuman speed, Rumlow caught up with him. Bucky found himself tackled to the ground, the impact jarring his body. His weapon was flung aside, and when he attempted to retrieve a concealed gun, Rumlow's fist collided with his nose. Strong palms clamped around his throat, Bucky's eyes narrowed, his efforts concentrated on breaking free.

But the Rumlow he was looking at was different, evil and had near-godly strength.

That meant only one thing; he had been injected with the new super soldier serum.

The serum had affected Rumlow. Though the scars on his face had disappeared, his flesh had turned unnaturally brown, too many veins protruding from his skin. With a grunt, Bucky kicked the vulnerable spot beneath his ribs, then propelled him away. Dragging himself up, he rose to his feet, retrieved his firearm, and began to fire.

"Pathetic," Rumlow sneered, skillfully evading Bucky's shots. "I'm beyond your reach now! I'm superior!"

Bucky didn't reply and rained punches, kicks and slaps against Rumlow.

"Where's your pretty girl, Soldier?" Rumlow taunted, evading a sweeping attack with a grin. "Where's your precious Grace? I've missed her."

Well aware that Rumlow was playing with his sentiments, Bucky clenched his teeth and gripped his neck with his metal hand. He forcefully slammed him to the floor and delivered a forceful kick to his abdomen. But he was careless. Rumlow thrust a knife out of his holder. James sensed the weapon a little too late and watched it in slow motion as it headed straight for his head.

"Oh no, you won't!"

Steve's scream resounded as his shield blocked the lethal attack, successfully saving Barnes. Bucky let out a sigh of relief as Cap launched himself at Rumlow with a dive-kick. The enemy lost consciousness, out of strength. Panting, James and Steve drew back and searched around for Sam.

"Sam, where are you?" Steve's voice resonated through the communication device. Most of the Hydra agents had vanished, and a sudden quiet took over.

"I'm holding up," came Sam's voice. "I've got visual on Silas. He's heading northeast, escaping. I need backup!"

Bucky and Steve pumped their legs and followed Sam's instructions, making it closer and closer to Silas. They saw his chopper and what was left of his men when an unexpected opponent lunged at them, coming out of nowhere. The sudden assailant headed straight for Bucky, tackling him backward. James grimaced, disbelief in his eyes. The man attacking him was clad in a black suit, his face hidden beneath a panther-like mask. Lethal claws extended, they pierced through Bucky's vest and scored his flesh, igniting searing pain.

Poison...

Bucky's vision went fuzzy in the corners, the venomous claws of his opponent sending him into the darkness.

▪️▪️▪️

Bucky blinked as his consciousness grappled with the onslaught of pain. He tried to move, only to realize that his limbs were restrained, secured by unyielding metal clamps. He was sitting in a chair– a cold, metallic contraption. Heavy clamps encircled his chest, hands, and ankles with an iron grip, rendering any movement futile. Blood trickled down his cheeks, from a gash Rumlow had carved into the flesh just inches from his left eye.

Steve and Sam were five feet away, defensive but safe. Two women were keeping them at arm's length. They were fierce-looking and intimidating. Adorned in red tabards embellished with beads, charms, and rugged leather studs, these fierce figures wielded long spears with an air of unwavering confidence.

The enigmatic warrior who had donned the panther suit had discarded his mask, his intense gaze fixed firmly upon James. The dark costume seemed out of place in this confrontation, leaving Bucky pondering the nature of these people. Why the strange suit? What sort of people were they? Were they even human?

"You're awake..." the man in black declared, his thick accent resonating with authority. "I am T'Challa, King of Wakanda and the son of the man you killed in the bombing attack."

"I didn't kill your father," Bucky said feebly, his voice glazed from the sedative.

"Your words are hollow," T'Challa responded, his tone unyielding. "You killed my father. And you shall pay for it."

"I assure you, I did not—"

"Do not deceive yourself or me," T'Challa interjected, his conviction unshakeable. "My father's blood stains your hands, and you shall answer for it!"

"You can't condemn him like that!" Sam said with a surge of frustration. "You've got it all wrong, he's not the one!"

"Then you must prove your innocence," T'Challa said to the accused with a bitter smile.

"Your accusations are misplaced," Bucky breathed out, closing his eyes then reopening them. "I wasn't even in Washington!"

"He possesses spirit, my King," Ayo, one of the women, commented with disapproval. "I like that and I shall enjoy it all the more if you give me the command to break him."

"We can solve this without being so hostile toward each other," Steve said and glared at the spear threatening his best friend. In any other situation, he would have taken his chances and attacked, but with Bucky there, he had to be cautious. "Trust us. Isn't my word enough?"

"I know you, Captain Rogers. But that is not enough."

"I swear on my shield's honor," Steve said. "Can't you at least discuss it peacefully with us?"

"The Black Panther has been a protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior. Now because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of King. So I ask you, as both warrior and king, how can I remain indifferent to my father's death?"

"Let's reason together," Steve said. "We can find a way to uncover the truth without further conflict."

"Barnes orchestrated the explosion that claimed my father's life," T'Challa said, raw pain written in his features.

"Hydra is manipulating you, using your grief—" Steve attempted to interject.

"I don't care," T'Challa said, his voice a reflection of his turmoil.

Bucky lifted his gaze and addressed T'Challa. "Check the camera footage then."

T'Challa frowned. "What?"

"I'll prove my innocence," Bucky said. "The day your father died, I was in Vienna. Check the footage of the town of Hollabrunn. That's where I was at the time of the bombing."

For once, T'Challa looked at the man he was condemning with a look other than hate. Repressing his pain and agony, the King of Wakanda tapped the button on his watch and activated a holographic screen. Using Wakanda's unparalleled technology, the advanced algorithm scrutinized every face captured by the CCTV systems.

The display painted an unexpected truth—James Barnes had indeed been present in Vienna at the time of the bombing, confirmed by the footage from the town of Hollabrunn. And he was not alone. T'Challa witnessed him smiling and walking along the roads, a young woman embracing him fondly. Quite fondly.

A wave of confusion washed over T'Challa. "How can this be..."

Could it be that on his path to revenge, he almost convicted an innocent man?

"I'm sorry for your loss, but I didn't kill your father," Bucky said with determination.

"How do I know that you're not an imposter?" T'Challa said, but this time, he was less hostile toward him.

James let out a harsh sigh. "Seriously?"

"Someone is impersonating him!" Sam supported him. "A simple comparison is enough to prove that the man from Washington is wearing prosthetics and a wig!"

T'Challa's gaze shifted towards his female guards, who appeared to have been convinced by the evidence and said, "Where is the woman from the footage?"

"That's none of your business!" Bucky said, breathing rapidly through his nostrils. He was going through all this hell for Grace to not get hurt. He didn't bring so much pain upon himself only to ruin it.

"The woman's location must remain secret, for her safety," Steve said calmly. "Silas is actively pursuing her, and we can't risk her falling into his hands. Please listen to reason, King T'Challa. Trust us."

With a measured nod, T'Challa instructed his guards to release Barnes, willing to consider their perspective. "Who's Silas?"

Bucky sent him a nod of appreciation and answered, "Silas is the current leader of Hydra, an organization created to rule the world. Both the girl you saw in the footage and I are his targets. He's the one who set off the explosion and framed me."

"But why? What motive drove him to such an act?" T'Challa asked, his previous rage completely bleeding away.

"Because I refused to surrender and escaped with the girl."

"I... I... almost killed an innocent person..." T'Challa was struggling to come to terms with his incompetence and how he had been deceived. He wanted to apologize, but the man he had accused spoke up.

"It's alright," Bucky said. "You were misled. Work with us and I'll forget what happened today."

T'Challa nodded with a readiness to forge an alliance. "Your compassion is appreciated. I will help you in any way I can to redeem myself. Let's bring Silas down."

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 13 Aching

Summary: Bucky is devastated at the way he treated Grace. While she, deals with his decision to hide his true intentions from her and leave her behind.

Warnings (this chapter): regrets, emotional Bucky, separation feelings, Tony Stark sass is here to make up for the sadness.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Three hours had passed. Three excruciating hours since James had deceived and forsaken Grace. Three hours in which he couldn't rest nor free himself of his rueful conscience. Guilt was ripping him apart from the inside out. A boulder thrown at his face would have been better than the mental anguish he was experiencing.

Restless and consumed by anger, he raked his hands across his face in a futile attempt to erase the traces of his torment. He shook his head vigorously as if by sheer force he could expel the haunting memories that clung to him. Clasping his hands together, he concentrated on the mission ahead of him, the only welcome substitute for his broken reality.

"You shouldn't have left her behind," Steve's voice broke through the silence as he approached. Clad in his signature navy blue suit, shield slung across his back, he settled beside Bucky, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Couldn't agree more. You made her cry," Sam added, joining the conversation.

"I didn't want to hurt her," Bucky said and swallowed heavily.

"Last time I checked, lying to someone is the main cause of pain," Sam said despite Cap's gentle nods to keep it low.

Bucky breathed out and looked at him. "Simply staying quiet would have sufficed, Sam."

"I'm not one to stay silent," Sam quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Remind me, why exactly are you helping me?" Bucky addressed him and set his mouth into a thin line.

"Ask him," Sam said, pointing at the Captain. "He believes in you. And if Steve believes in you, then I support you too."

"Sam..." Steve said, curving his lips in a proud smile. "Now can you two stop bickering?"

Bucky just sighed. "I'll stop. Hydra is my primary concern."

A brief silence hung in the air until Sam spoke up again. "So, how do we track down Silas? We're navigating without a compass, flying blind."

"We can start attacking every Hydra base I know. There are at least six potential facilities," Bucky suggested.

"What makes you think this is worth our efforts?" Sam said with skepticism.

"Silas needs a base suitable for his dirty work," Bucky said. "He needs fortified facilities, medical rooms, torture chambers..."

"Do you think he has injected the serum by himself?" Steve asked, not excited at the idea of fighting against another super soldier.

"No. He won't risk it." Bucky exhaled. "He won't hesitate to use other test subjects, though. That serum is unlike any other serum ever created. It's impossibly strong, wicked even, formulated to poison the human body and mind. There's a high possibility that the person will lose his sanity after taking it. No human is strong enough to bear its power."

Sam's brows knitted. "And where does Grace fit in all this?"

"They're family, hence Silas wants to test it on her and analyze its side effects. That monster wants to sacrifice his daughter for the sake of a stupid experiment!" Bucky said with a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Steve ground his jaw. "We'll get him. Let's start by infiltrating some of the possible Hydra facilities."

"I agree. I'm sure we'll eventually find some clues," Sam said. "What's our first location?"

Bucky cleared his throat before saying, "Hydra's Laboratories in North America.

▪️▪️▪️

Grace gazed outside the airplane window, her thoughts distant, lost in the vast expanse beyond the glass. Sunlight filtered through puffy clouds, casting a warm and inviting glow on the landscape below. Rolling hills and lush valleys passed by, a vibrant tapestry of nature's splendor. But her eyes remained vacant, her mind consumed by a storm of emotions that no view could dispel.

She groaned and shifted on her seat, evading the intruding sunlight that hit her eyes. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes but she wiped them away and curled up in her seat with a heavy feeling in her chest. She should have known better. James was trained in the art of misleading people. And she was such a fool, melting into his arms, completely disregarding the signs until it was too late.

It irritated her that he had taken a personal risk so he could keep her safe.

Alarms were ringing in her mind because, despite his actions, she was worried about him. What if Hydra recaptured him? What if they tortured him beyond saving? What if she never saw him again? The fear of his absence, of never setting eyes on him again, clutched at her heart, refusing to loosen its grip. She attempted to push these thoughts aside, but they clung to her consciousness relentlessly.

The soft sound of boots clacking against the floor brought her back from her silent thoughts, followed by a soft hand cupping her shoulder. Grace cringed at the sudden touch and readjusted her position at the sudden disturbance. Her gaze met that of a woman draped in a tactical ensemble, vibrant crimson hair framing her face like a fierce halo. The piercing green of her eyes held a hint of mischief, and her lips were painted a deep red.

"Natasha?" Grace uttered, her eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

"Grace Landon, I was hoping our paths would cross again," Natasha replied, her lips curling into a warm smile.

"How long has it been?!"

Grace exclaimed, springing from her seat to embrace her in a swift, heartfelt hug. Natasha had been a constant presence in her life during the time when she was tasked with guarding her and her mother against Silas. They had grown close and turned into good friends.

"Over four years," Natasha answered, her tone carrying a sense of both nostalgia and regret. "Grace... I'm so sorry about your mother. I—I failed—"

"Natasha, don't blame yourself for my mother. You did everything you could to keep us safe."

"I wish I could have done more." Natasha didn't have the heart to meet her eyes. She felt sorry for not being able to protect Grace's mother and for going on with her life when the poor girl had gone through so much on her own.

"I've never forgotten you all these years," Grace confessed, her voice a brew of gratitude and affection.

Natasha's eyes met hers, her demeanor softening. "Is that why you disappeared without a trace?"

"I'm sorry..."

Natasha sighed. "I thought you were dead ..."

"As you can see I'm still... I'm still out of power. What about you?"

"I've been following orders, going on missions."

Grace smiled. "I'm proud of you. You joined the Avengers. You seem to have found your place. And I'm sorry again. I should have kept contact with you."

"I understand," Natasha said. "It's all in the past now."

"James put you up to this, didn't he?" Grace said, a harsh breath escaping her. "Ah... even saying his name makes me angry."

"Barnes did this to protect you," Natasha said after pondering for a few seconds. "He's a good man."

Grace's frustration resurfaced. "I don't care. He shouldn't have agreed to this plan. Turn this jet around. I want to see him."

Natasha's tone was gentle but firm. "I can't do that."

Grace let out a bitter laugh. "This isn't fair. I'm being dragged along against my will."

"Bear with it for a little while." Natasha peered at the way her face had paled and for a moment there, she was vexed. Damn it, Barnes. The young spy was insecure about all this, but Steve had also agreed, so she had to follow the plan.

Grace rubbed her throbbing temples and asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"I'll let you know soon."

"That's not an answer."

"Grace, please try to be patient."

"I can't be patient. I've been manipulated into something I don't want."

Natasha's resolve wavered. "Alright. We're headed to the Stark Tower. New York."

"The Stark Tower?"

"Yes, you're to stay there until further notice." Natasha hesitated but continued, "I'll be there with you, providing whatever assistance you need."

Grace forced down the sickening feeling in her gut and exhaled. The Stark Tower represented safety and luxury, yet its walls felt like a gilded cage, confining her freedom. And Natasha wasn't staying with her just to make friends. She was there to guard her in case something went wrong.

"Will he ever return?" Grace muttered, her throat tightening.

Natasha didn't reply and that was answer enough.

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 7 Comfortable

Author's notes: This chapter contains sweetness, fluff, and an adorable Bucky Barnes that you simply want to squeeze in the warmest hug! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Please show some love! ♡♡

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

James Bucky Barnes could cook.

No. That was an understatement.

He was a culinary magician!

These were Grace's thoughts as she savored every bite of the delectable chicken and vegetables he had prepared for their dinner. The dish was a symphony of flavors, each ingredient blending together to create a masterpiece that surpassed even her own attempts at cooking, particularly her spicy meatballs. She was so grateful to finally settle down and have a decent meal.

Cooking together really helped them get away from the harsh realities that surrounded them.

While they ate, he slowly started to open up to her, sharing tales from his past and how he grew to be the best friend of Steve Rogers. As the minutes rolled by, he shed his shyness away, his tongue running wild. Grace Clio have enough of his humorous and foolish escapades with Steve. They were such dedicated companions.

"There was a time," James said, sharing an old fond memory, "Steve and I decided to have a picnic in the park. He had this fancy necklace he wanted to show his then sweetheart.

"We had just settled down with our sandwiches when out of nowhere, a little dog appeared and snatched the jewelry box right from our picnic blanket. That little rascal bolted away like a furry whirlwind!"

His laughter rumbled through the air.

"Steve, ever the genius, took off after it running through the park, arms flailing, shouting 'Stop, stop thief!'"

"And what did you do?" Grace asked, her eyes sparkling.

"I was right behind him, trying to catch the dog by its tail. I couldn't just let it swallow that ring! I mean, imagine Steve explaining to his girl that her gift was now a dog's chew toy!"

Grace burst into laughter. "So, what happened next?"

"We managed to corner the little bandit, pried its jaws open, and retrieved the necklace. That poor dog looked positively guilty when it realized it had been caught. I'm pretty sure we were the star attraction in the park that day."

"It must be incredibly heartwarming to have such a friend," Grace said, a gentle smile on her lips.

"He's the only one I have," James said, his voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and melancholy.

"Having a good friend is a blessing."

"And what about you?"

A subtle shadow danced across her features. "I haven't been particularly fortunate in that aspect. It's hard to forge a relationship when I'm constantly on the move..."

"Trying to hide from Silas?" he completed her sentence.

She nodded, her gaze dropping. "Ever since I was little, my mother and I kept moving from one place to another, changing locations so we could stay away from him and Hydra. The only friend I had was the bodyguard assigned to us some years ago. But I eventually lost contact with that person as well."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You get nightmares because of him," he said, reluctance coloring his voice.

She offered a soft hum in agreement. "Silas caused all my trauma."

"How old were you when your mother—" He stumbled over his words, attempting to find a delicate phrasing. "I apologize, you don't have to—"

"Eighteen," she said in a single breath, the weight of the revelation hanging heavily in the air. "Six years have passed, and still, I have nightmares and panic attacks."

"You need time. Don't put pressure on yourself."

"If only it were that simple," she mumbled, staring absently into the distance.

"I know firsthand how scary it is; the nightmares of the past feel as if they steal away every breath of peace."

"You're right..." she muttered and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I talked about my sad story and reminded you of things you'd rather forget."

"No. I bear the weight of my own choices and actions. I deserve the consequences."

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of compassion and resolve in her gaze. "You were a victim, just like me. You were coerced by manipulation."

He grimaced. "Not quite. My hands are stained with blood and I remember everything. It hunts me every minute of the day."

"Then you should take your own advice and let time heal your wounds," she offered softly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

James sighed and redirected his attention back to his meal. He had opened up more than he had in decades, revealing vulnerabilities that had remained buried deep within. A maelstrom of feelings gnawed at his chest, leaving him unsettled. He doubted whether time alone could ever truly mend the wounds that scarred him. Silence, was, for the time being, the best treatment.

▪️▪️▪️

The next morning, Grace woke up to the sounds of the birds and the caress of warm sunlight on her face. Stretching luxuriously upon the bed, she let out a satisfying groan, savoring the tranquil moment. Blinking her eyes open, she rose from the bed and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Once presentable, she sauntered around the house in search of James.

She glanced at the small room next to hers, but his bed was already set and tidy, so she guessed he had gotten up earlier than her. Calling out his name, she found him in the living room, in front of an antique TV, surrounded by an array of intricate devices, open boxes brimming with screws, and an assortment of parts. She could only see his back but he appeared fully focused on his task, his commanding presence filling the room despite its spaciousness.

"Good morning," she greeted softly, causing him to tilt his head and meet her gaze.

"Good morning," he said, his brows furrowing as her laughter bubbled forth, echoing through loud yet sweet.

"What's wrong?" he asked while she struggled to stop her wide smile from spreading all over her face. When he rubbed a hand along his cheek, she burst into more laughter, almost doubling over.

"You are covered in slime," she explained, approaching him with suppressed giggles. Grabbing an abandoned towel from nearby, she gently wiped his cheek and then his nose.

"Why can't I get it off?" she murmured as she rubbed his nose harder, eliciting a small groan from him.

"I can do it myself, you know..." he muttered weakly, though not entirely displeased with her actions. Not in the least displeased.

"If you do it yourself, you'll look like a camouflage-clad commando," she said and heard him chuckle. After a few seconds, she drew back and smiled. "There. Now you're back to normal."

"Thanks."

"What are you doing with this TV?" She folded her arms, observing as he returned to his task, fiddling with some cables and coils.

"I'm trying to fix it."

"But it's so old. I doubt it can even catch a signal."

"It is possible if I link it to a digital converter," he said with a note of pride in his voice. "I found one in the storage room."

"Have you had anything for breakfast?" she asked and suppressed a smile at how absorbed he was in tinkering with the TV.

"Some cake," he replied, his attention on the screw he was fastening.

"What about coffee?"

"No. Didn't have time," he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his good hand.

Satisfied with his answer, she swiveled around and headed to the kitchen. She measured the coffee beans and put water to boil in the kettle. She devoured a slice of cake then poured the steaming water over the awaiting coffee grounds. When the coffee was ready, she poured a generous amount in two mugs and carried them back to the living room.

"Here you go," she said, placing the steaming mug a few inches next to his things. "Would you like some help?"

James took a few sips before answering, "You already helped by making coffee. I needed the boost but I didn't want to stop the repair process."

"You certainly have a talent for it." She looked at the TV, then at his hands, tracing the contours of his veins and the texture of his skin. Grateful that he remained occupied and unaware of her scrutiny, she cleared her throat and said, "Is it going well?"

"We'll find out soon..."

Finished with his work, he meticulously connected the cables and securely fastened the cap of the TV. With synchronized movements, he plugged in the TV, pressed some buttons, and voila! — the screen flickered to life and he let out the most beautiful and genuine cry of triumph.

"Wow! It's working!" she said and stared at him in gobsmacked wonder.

"I told you I could do it."

His eyes lingered on her, soft and warm, saving the features of her smiling face. She was so goddamned sweet and lovely. Realizing the intensity of his stare, he contained the emotions within, tucking them away where they belonged – hidden behind the façade he had grown accustomed to.

"Now you can watch TV when you're bored," he said and dragged his eyes away from her.

"You mean we can watch TV," she corrected, playfulness in her voice. "You're also here with me. Or do you plan to leave me all alone?"

"No!" His response was quick, almost too emphatic. "I didn't mean that. I just wasn't sure if you wanted me around."

"That's foolish," she said softly. "Besides, watching TV with company is much more entertaining."

"I suppose..."

"You suppose? Haven't you ever enjoyed a movie or show w—" she stopped abruptly, realizing how stupid she had sounded. James had been under captivity for so long, it was no wonder he had no time to enjoy carefree moments like these.

"It's been a while," he hesitated. "I'll slowly catch up on the things I missed."

She smiled broadly. "While we're here, I'll make sure to introduce you to the best movies and series. You can count on me."

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 5 Barnes

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

A week passed ever since Barnes' wipe. Silas and Rumlow stood within the confines of an office, nestled deep within the compound's metal walls discussing their plans. The facilities were once under full control but sadly Grace was in a horrible mental state. She was sleepless and frail, troubled by frequent asthma attacks, caused by her guilt and the pain she had inflicted upon the Winter Soldier.

"From now on, Grace falls under your supervision," Silas said to Rumlow.

"Oh, that will be my pleasure," Rumlow responded then, after a brief pause, added, "And what of the Winter Soldier?"

Silas exhaled audibly. "He's wiped and under my control. I see no cause for concern."

"Is it possible the Soldier has some prior connection to her?" Rumlow asked, slumping against the wall beside him.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've been hunting Grace for years. The Winter Soldier was on separate missions, there's no connection."

"Then he was simply aroused by her. This has never happened before but it's possible. She is, after all, a woman."

"She is not a woman. She is a very valuable asset," Silas said strictly.

Rumlow cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be wise to maintain some distance between the two."

"No." Silas' lips curled into a calculated smile. "Grace needs to embrace her new role and the Winter Soldier is the means to make her obey."

"What do you propose?" Rumlow asked, hands clasped in front of him.

"Pain and discipline," Silas said. "They almost messed up my plans, so I'm going to shatter their bond before it's too late."

Rumlow wasn't excited to hear that. He'd rather keep the girl away from Barnes and discipline her himself. But he held his tongue, cautious about voicing his opinion. He observed as Silas made a series of calls, then pivoted to face him.

"Grace will be injected tomorrow. The serum is ready and I'm eager to test its side effects."

"But she is in a horrible condition," Rumlow said. "The doctors—"

"When did you become such a wimp, Rumlow?" Silas snapped. "Grace is here for a very important reason. She must serve her purpose and help Hydra ascend. Do you desire another assault from Captain America and his allies? Need I remind you of the burns on your face and the substantial loss of our forces?"

"I'll never forget," Rumlow ground out, his jaw clenched. "I'll never forget the havoc they wrought upon us."

"Fear not. Justice will be served," Silas said. "Now, bring the Winter Soldier to Grace. Order him to prepare her for the procedure."

Rumlow scrunched up his face. "You said I'd be in charge of her."

Silas shot her a look. "Keep her in check but without making your appearance known."

"Why are you doing this? I just don't understand."

Silas laughed. "As you said, Grace is in a horrible condition right now. Reuniting her with her cherished Soldier will not only shatter her spirit but turn her into a vulnerable mess for us to use."

"She's your daughter, though. Doesn't this affect you?"

"I'm touched by your concern, but you must not forget: I am an agent of Hydra," Silas retorted icily. "Affections are not allowed."

"Hail Hydra," Rumlow said, bowing his head in deference.

▪️▪️▪️

Exhausted and mentally bleeding, Grace felt nearly undone by the relentless events of the past days. Guilt, heavy as a shroud, coiled around her heart, each beat a reminder of what she had done. Sleep refused to visit her and even if it did, the nightmares attacked her nonstop. Visions of her mother's death hunted her, their tendrils of sorrow coiling around her consciousness. Another painful memory added to the agony; the Winter Soldier's screams, a piercing reminder of the pain she had unwittingly contributed to.

Did Hydra do this to him every time he tried to be himself?

Did they wipe him each time he attempted to show even the slightest sign of kindness?

Their treatment of him was brutal, unfair, and inhuman.

No human being, regardless of their past, deserved to endure such unrelenting brutality.

Grace wanted to forget everything that had happened lately but she knew it was cowardly of her. Relenting, she focused her mind and tried to remember fragments of the conversation she had gathered that day when she eavesdropped on the Soldier's conversation. The mysterious person had called him 'Bucky'. Silas had also shown great disrespect to him and Captain America.

Captain America or Steven Rogers was a renowned hero, loved and respected for his legendary status. She had read about him in a museum. During World War II, he led an elite squad called the 'Howling Commandos'. Their images were plastered all around the museum on huge banners and video screens, turning them into living legends. Grace mentally sifted through the faces of those courageous soldiers and almost cried out at the realization.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky!

There had to be a connection between him and the Winter Soldier! She faintly remembered the Sergeant's facial structure from the museum's banner and she now recognized the uncanny resemblance to the Winter Soldier. How hadn't she thought of that earlier?! Apart from the long hair and stubble, those two were one and the same. Bucky Barnes was a glorious hero, a symbol of the nation, a hero to the world.

And Hydra had manipulated him, forced him to forget all about his distinguished past.

Grave finally understood why the Soldier seemed to change moods from time to time. It was as if a battle raged within him, a constant struggle to uncover his true self and defy Hydra's insidious programming. But, thanks to her, all his efforts were in vain. Her childish curiosity and her inability to reign her emotions had created all this mess. He had been subjected to yet another brainwashing, and it was her foolishness, her inadequacy, that had put him in that devilish chair.

Consumed by regret, she sunk into the bed, tears rolling down her red-rimmed eyes. She couldn't stop thinking, begging some higher power to give her an answer. A solution. She had to find a way to save him, to get him out of this hellish place. There was no chance to save herself, but she could at least set him free and, in doing so, find a path toward her own absolution.

The sound of the door unlocking caused her to jerk, preparing herself for the worst. She placed both hands flat on the mattress and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. She wasn't sure she was prepared to face Silas and his demands. But the person who stood before her wasn't the one she expected to see.

Barnes. He was there.

And he looked completely dehumanized. The Winter Soldier.

She could only see his eyes. The rest was hidden beneath a cruel mask that covered the lower part of his face. He sported a thick leather jacket, one sleeve artfully removed to reveal the striking silver arm adorned with a crimson-star emblem. Guns and knives were secured around him as if he was ready to go out on a death mission.

As she gazed up to meet his eyes, it was clear that there were no emotions in him. The ache in her heart intensified. He was a shell. An empty shell. She swallowed a deep breath and studied whatever she could see on his face. The only positive perhaps was that he was healed. He was no longer covered in bruises and scars. And he wasn't feigning indifference this time. He was a Hydra agent to the bone, ready to strike and mistreat if they ordered him to.

A marionette, a puppet at the master's mercy.

And she was certain that Silas would find great pleasure in doing that. Just to hurt her and teach her a lesson.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's all my fault," she let the tears fall and stared at his cold face. "Forgive me."

Despite her plea, he remained unmoved, advancing towards her with purpose. His footsteps resonated with authority on the grimy floor, bringing him to a halt before her.

"Get ready. You are getting injected today."

"James? Is there nothing? For real?" she asked groggily, voice quiet. She deliberately mentioned his name, hoping to whole a reaction from him.

Yet, he held his silence, his cold demeanor unrelenting. Grace bit back her tormenting thoughts and, arming herself with courage sprang to her feet. She held back a wince at how weak her body felt and took two shaking steps, effectively closing the gap between them. She reached out with trembling hands, her fingers curling around the fabric of his vest. He instantly cupped her wrists and twisted them away but she persisted, clinging to him.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes! You're a hero," she said, her guts twisting with every word.

He did not speak and pushed her away.

"Bucky! Remember, Bucky!" she whimpered, seeking his eyes that held darkness and pain.

"Quiet."

"No! Shove me all you like, beat me but I still won't stop!"

Once again, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his sleeve. He shoved her away, his resolve unshaken. His repeated shoves were a clear indication of his desire to keep her at bay. But she didn't stop. Not even when he pushed her against the wall. She winched and pressed her nails deep into his fleshly hand as if trying to bridge the gap between them.

"This is not who you are. You're not the Winter Soldier! Your name is James! James Bucky Barnes. You must remember!"

She dragged off the hideous mask, his handsome face finally bared to her. She pinned him with her eyes, but he remained unaffected and distant. His face betrayed no emotions, even when she gripped his vest, pressing his huge body down until her chest pressed against his. They stood closely, faces inches apart, his broad frame enveloping her smaller one.

Next thing she knew, he wrenched her away and took three steps back, causing her to lose balance and fall to her knees. He quickly put his mask back on, his indifference unshaken. Grace trembled, her palms pressed against the floor. In seconds, agents swarmed around her, invading the space alongside Rumlow. Her chest clenched painfully, realizing the horrible situation she was in.

"Seducing the Winter Soldier again?" Rumlow clicked his tongue. "We can't have that, Grace. You've got a mission to focus on."

With that, she was grabbed and ushered to the test room. The nurses had changed her into a hospital gown and dictated her to take a seat in the medical chair. They had also hooked her up to an IV and forced her to swallow some sort of sedative pill to calm her down and make sure she stayed obedient. She could only look around as everyone wandered in a frenzy, getting ready for the anticipated injection.

Silas stood a short distance away, observing the scene with a critical eye. Rumlow was beside him, carefully assessing the doctors and nurses. As for the Winter Soldier, he was ordered by her father to stay close to her. As she had expected, Silas was having fun toying with her mental state, his smirking face proof enough.

"As you found out, you can no longer affect him," Silas said and sent her a strict glare. In response, the Winter Soldier remained stoic, eyes dead and focused.

"The way I see it, James Barnes can recover his true identity whenever he chooses," she said and made sure to emphasize his name. "You have proved to me that Hydra's control is utterly futile."

Silas' nostrils flared as he replied, "Behave or else I'll wipe him in front of you again."

"You're so weak," she countered boldly, tired of hearing his threats.

"What did you just say?" Silas snarled, approaching her with hostility.

"So you are deaf as well?"

"Watch it," Rumlow said. "Don't forget who you're talking to and what he can do to you."

Ignoring him, Grace glared at her cruel father and, if she wasn't mistaken, felt the Bucky tense up beside her. It happened too fast for anyone to notice but she was certain he had flinched. For one second, he had broken his facade and that was more than enough hope to make her weave a reckless yet daring escape plan for him.

In a heartbeat, she surged from the chair, the IV tearing free from her flesh. Exploiting the closeness to Barnes, she snatched one of the knives tucked in the holders on his vest. The blade gleamed in the room as she poised it against her neck. Guns pointed at her, Barnes widened his eyes but she retreated, waving her free arm, commanding them not to come any closer.

"Do not approach."

"Grace put the knife down. Now!" Silas yelled, his voice resonating with urgency.

"Release him. Let James Barnes leave. Now!" She pressed the knife deeper, causing blood to leak out. "Release him and I will stay here in his stead. I give you my word. You'll get what you want."

Silas hissed, his features contorting. "You're crazy!"

"It runs in the family," Grace said. "I'm your precious test subject. You need me, otherwise, you can't take the serum. You won't be able to revive Hydra."

"Is this your ultimatum?" Silas grumbled, observing her steady hands that betrayed no hint of hesitation. She wasn't lying, she had decided to free the asset, her strategy hitting him where it stung the most. He needed her. He couldn't proceed without her. And damn her, because she had backbone and determination.

"Yes! After everything you've put me through, I have nothing to lose. The least I can do is free him from being your puppet doll!"

Clutching the knife's hilt, her fingers went clammy with sweat. The room seemed to close in around her, the effects of the sedative spreading through. No. She had to hold on until he was safe. Her breath, though quick and shallow, carried the weight of her determination. She was intending to threaten Silas one last time when a metal hand gripped her blade, bending it with ease before tossing it away.

"Good thinking, asset," Silas said, a breath of relief escaping him.

"That's not my name."

That wasn't the voice of the Winter Soldier. That voice belonged to James Bucky Barnes crawling back to the surface and emerging victorious. Shedding his black mask, his gaze fixed upon her, his eyes penetrating her very soul. He was barely holding back the whole time, fighting not to succumb to her. Yet, she had caught him off guard. Grace believed in him, strongly enough to risk her safety to free him. And he decided to return the favor.

"Asset get away from her!" Silas bellowed. "You can't escape! Obey your handler."

"You've forgotten what I'm capable of," James said. "I'll clear a path if I must. We're both making our exit."

Grace could hardly believe what was happening. She was too awed yet too tranquil by the sedative to properly process the unfolding scene. James was shielding her with his body, confronting Hydra without an ounce of fear. She heard Silas laugh, and after that Hell broke loose at his command. James dragged them both into cover and gunshots erupted, echoing like thunderclaps. Shell casings clinked and clattered as they were ejected.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, Bucky pushed forward, his desire to save Grace stronger than any manpower Silas possessed. No one could match up to him and his skills— the skills Hydra had taught him. He was now using every bit of that knowledge to escape.

Following the escape route in his mind, he ducked, shot and weaved through the metal corridors, all while protecting Grace with all his might. His actions were choreographed with precision, each step calculated. Having lived in that godforsaken basement for years, he knew every single crevice, corridor and secret pathway.

Grace lost track of time, all the violence and noise made her dizzy. She saw every fight in slow motion as James ran past the terror. He was constantly holding her, guarding her with his body. He ran so inhumanly fast that sometimes her legs dangled mid-air as he swiveled her around.

Her eyes closed tightly at certain moments, willing away the blood that caused her stomach to lurch. She managed to control her erratic heartbeat, for once thankful that Hydra had sedated her. Without it, the violence would have been far more overwhelming to bear.

She was certain she lost senses for a while but when her brain caught up with what was happening, she found herself on a bike, her hands secured around his waist. A leather jacket enveloped her, his jacket. Her head found its resting place on his warm back, nestling against the contours of his body. The motorcycle roared and soared through the road, the wind whipping around them, tousling their hair. Grace smiled when she felt the bright sun kissing her face. Through hazy eyes, she watched the buildings around her fade away and smiled.

Freedom.

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 4 Wiped

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Time seemed to stand still as they stood facing each other, the world around them fading into insignificance. Their breaths mingled, warm and uneven, creating a fragile bridge between them. His chest, firm and solid, molded against the softness of her breasts, the subtle pressure igniting a wave of sensation that pulsed through her veins.

His metal fingers flexed against the wall, but soon, their closeness seemed to strike him like a lightning bolt. He reeled back, his chest rising and falling with a deep, unsteady breath. He forked a hand through his long hair and intentionally evaded her stare. She didn't make it any easier by peering at him so closely.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said, startling them both back to awareness. He could still feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric that separated them, the heat of her body seeping into him, the rhythmic beat of her heart against his own.

"Silas allowed me to walk around the facilities. A nurse accompanied me but she left and I...I got lost," she murmured, and his response was a strangled moan.

"Get out before—"

"Who's Bucky?"

"Shh!" He brought a fleshly finger to her lips. "Speak nothing of this."

She nodded in understanding, watching him through wide eyes. Her warm brown globes met the intensity of his impossibly blue ones, a magnetic pull between them that almost drew her in completely. Grace was convinced that there was more to him, that he was not the cruel man everyone had made him out to be.

"Get out. Now."

"Wait," she muttered, her hands clutching his metal one. "Speak to me. You can speak to me."

"Have you no fear, woman?" His mouth formed a strict line, though his eyes remained emotional and warm. "I've hurt you and I'd easily do it again! Get out!"

"No. You're lying. Your voice is totally different from before!"

"Leave Grace. Leave!"

His own words echoed in his ears as he attempted to pry her hands away. She clung to him, looking at him with the softest eyes and the most beautiful expression he had ever seen. But, their moment was cut short. Rumlow, burst inside, a cold snicker plastered on his marked face.

"Well, well... it seems the Winter Soldier has taken a liking to our new toy."

Grace stepped in front of him. "It's my fault! I accidentally—"

"Take her back to her room, Rumlow," the Soldier's voice sliced through the tension, his tone unwavering. "She got lost."

Rumlow clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "What a convenient excuse. She got lost and you decided to play savior."

"Take her back."

"I'm not your lackey. You, on the other hand, should know your place and obey orders," Rumlow sneered. "This won't end well. For either of you."

▪️▪️▪️

Silas glanced away from his tablet, his brows curved in irritation. He hadn't expected the situation between Grace and the Winter Soldier to escalate so fast. He was mad at himself, for disregarding his suspicions. The Winter Soldier was his most valuable asset. The sergeant within him, on the other hand, was foolish and stubborn. It wasn't the first time the phantom of Bucky Barnes had managed to break Hydra's strict techniques and effectively bend them into his own.

It was infuriating ... how powerful this man was. Yet he needed him. He couldn't bring Hydra to its full glory without him.

"What happened exactly?" Silas demanded, a deep furrow etching between his brows.

"I found them all cozy and close to each other. She must have awakened something in him," Rumlow explained, his arms crossing in front of him.

Silas rubbed his eyes wearily before turning his gaze to Grace and the Soldier. They were both restrained, the Soldier held captive by four men to prevent any sudden outbursts. His chest heaved, and his metal arm clenched involuntarily, but he maintained his obedience for his daughter's sake for sure. And that could serve as a valuable lesson for Grace.

Treading purposefully, Silas approached the young man and didn't even blink before giving him a sharp punch to the chin. The force of the blow made him stagger, and then Silas followed it up with a violent kick to his stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. Grace screamed and thrashed but Rumlow constricted her movements. The Soldier pressed his lips into a thin, taut line but did not return the hits. He merely stood with a blank look in his eyes.

"See that, Gracie?" Silas called over. "He's going to take every hit like a good boy! That's how it should be. He has no right to speak back, no will of his own."

"You are hurting him! Stop!" Grace's voice trembled with anger as she struggled against Rumlow's restraining grip.

"He was supposed to obey, but you've bewitched him," Silas said, an agitated twitch playing at the corner of his mouth. "I have to hurt him because you tried to change him."

Before Grace could reply, Silas snapped his fingers, and the Soldier was beaten right in front of her. He accepted the blows, his eyes blank and yielding. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his pale skin. Her heart ached at the sight, her breath catching in her throat.

"Stop!" She screamed, her voice piercing the air and resonating with desperation. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please, don't do this! I'll pay the price instead."

The men kept hitting him mercilessly.

Grace's eyes locked onto the brutal scene, the memories of her own past trauma surging to the forefront of her mind. The violence, the helplessness, the terror—it all came rushing back, threatening to engulf her in a suffocating grip. Panic tightened her chest, her pulse thundering in her ears. Tremors wracked her body and she let out ragged gasps.

"What's happening to her?" Rumlow asked, loosening his grip on her.

"Experiencing any form of violence triggers panic attacks in her," Silas responded, cruel amusement in his eyes. "It's quite the reaction."

"Then we must show her the main event," Rumlow suggested with a sickening smirk. He passed her quivering frame to her father and stepped in front of the Winter Soldier. With a vice-like grip on the back of his neck, he proceeded to rain down blows upon him, the impact of each strike sending his hair flying.

Grace squirmed, her body contorting in an attempt to break free. But Silas held her back, enjoying every bit of her agony. With each second, her voice got more and more desperate, panic began overpowering her. Her eyes locked on the Soldier filled with a plea for help and understanding. Yet, to her dismay, he remained passive, accepting blow after blow.

In the end, he crumpled to the ground, an anguished groan leaving his battered lips. Blood and bruises marred his face and exposed torso. When Silas ordered him to rise once more, he mustered a resilient effort, his body quivering as he shifted his weight onto his feet. A tremor coursed through him as he pushed himself upright.

"No more. P-Please," Grace pleaded. "I deserve to be punished, not him. Leave him be."

"Hydra does not forgive. We believe in order and order only comes from pain." Silas released her and laughed when she collapsed with an audible thud, her legs buckling beneath her weight. "Let's wipe him," he ordered. "And use the trigger words, too."

"But..." the doctor faltered. "It hasn't been long since the last session. He might be damaged beyond repair—"

"A necessary risk for the betterment of all... for the greater good of Hydra."

"Please, please, don't... " Grace said, kneeling before Silas. "Ha...haven't y-you done enough? Leave him alone. He did nothing wrong. He's always obeying you!"

Rumlow clamped a hand over her mouth and made sure her gaze was fixed on the asset. "Funny part is, James Buchanan Barnes is the gentlest soul amongst us all. Yet, thanks to the wipe, he'll transform into a remorseless killing machine. Stay silent, relish the spectacle."

Muffled screeches echoed from her as the Soldier was forced down the devilish chair. Metal clasps immobilized his limbs, while a network of belts bound him further, rendering him utterly helpless. A stifled sigh slipped through his gritted teeth when they fitted him the retainers. His whole body quivered, his chest heaving.

"In a matter of seconds, you will be nothing to him," Silas taunted. "He'll be a stranger even to himself."

The metal dome descended over Bucky's head, making fine circling movements. And then the torment began. He convulsed under the onslaught, his head attacked by two machines that shot electric currents into his mind. Grace cried and yelled, feeling completely useless. Her heart seized at the barbaric treatment, his dreadful screams seeping in her mind for eternity.

Mere seconds turned into eternity, the anguish appearing unending. When the ordeal finally ended, the Winter Soldier was half awake, trapped in a trance-like state. His face was blank, no fear written on it. On top of it all, Silas used a set of harsh-spoken words to ensure that the Winter Soldier would comply. Rumlow made sure to whisper perverse explanations into her ear, describing the purpose of each word and how it triggered the mind.

"Know this," Silas told her. "I can wipe his memories until his brain is completely fried. I don't give a fuck for his feelings or your own."

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #sebastian stan hot #sebastian stan #writer #ao3 writer #fading scars by aikaterini #fanfic by aikaterini

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 3 Risk

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Was it morning?

Was it night?

What lay beyond her room?

What was the weather outside?

Grace had no idea. Her sense of time had become a blur, lost in the hazy fog of exhaustion. She only remembered succumbing to sleep after collapsing on the floor. A wince left her as she attempted to sit up on the hard bed. Her body felt unbearably heavy but apart from being bruised, she hadn't broken or twisted anything from her fall.

As she stirred, she noticed a tiny tube resting beside her. With narrowed eyes, she grasped the plastic container and read its label. To her astonishment, she discovered that it contained an ointment meant to alleviate bruising and swelling. The sharp ache in her side served as a painful reminder that the cream might come in handy.

One question lingered though. Who had left it for her?

In the whole compound, no one cared about her. Even the doctors and the nurses treated her with bitterness. As for the Winter Soldier... her feelings were tumultuous. She couldn't had witness first hand what he was capable of. He was not to be trusted. The possibility of kindness in him contrasted sharply with the brutality she had experienced.

A long sigh escaped her lips as she rubbed her weary eyes. With some effort, she managed to rise from the bed, her steps feeble as she made her way to the bathroom. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and traced her hands over her pale features. Even after washing and tidying her appearance, she was still a mess, a spectral remnant of the woman she once was.

She wished she had something else to wear other than the transparent hospital gown. The flimsy material exposed not only her bruises but the lines of her body. She unscrewed the lid of the cream and applied it to her cheek, then lifted her gown and smeared a generous amount along the bruises on her waist. The sound of approaching footsteps jolted her senses to alertness.

"Who's there?" she called out and let the gown drop, shielding as much as she could of her body with her hands.

The Winter Soldier appeared in her line of vision, his presence an eerie testament to his stealth. She was meaning to ask for some clothes when he closed their distance, his cold reflection melting as soon as their eyes met. His cold blue gaze clashed with the warmth of her brown irises. He drew closer and towered over her. She could feel his breath against her skin, see every detail in his mysterious eyes. There were tinges of silver spinning about his irises.

"Put these on and come out," he ordered, ending her trance. He extended a small backpack toward her and she reached for it eagerly, her hands trembling as she examined the contents—a collection of shirts and pants. Just what she needed to escape the accursed gown. She also found her inhaler and some basic toiletries.

"Still not dressed?"

His deep voice questioned from outside— he had moved again! Grace had never encountered someone who moved so quietly. She swiftly put on her new clothes and exited the bathroom. He found him sitting in a chair by the bed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. A tray laden with food awaited her, the sight of it causing her stomach to growl in hunger. She hesitated, too scared to taste the sinister things that Hydra was offering. And as if he could sense her denial, he approached her and, before she could resist, guided her to sit on the bed.

"Eat," he said and pushed the tray in front of her. There was a steaming bowl of soup, bread, and a cup of chamomile tea. The sight of the steam coming out and the delicious scent caused her stomach to somersault.

"I'm not hungry," she protested weakly.

His voice remained unwavering. "Eat."

"No!"

"I won't repeat myself. It's plain food. Eat it."

"I'm not taking a single bite," she said but squealed when his metal hand drew nearer, wrapping around her wrist. Her complexion drained of color, a stark reminder of the terror she felt in his presence.

Realizing how tactless his moves were, he retracted his arm. "If you resist, they will order me to force it down your throat. So eat."

A tense silence hung in the air before she began to eat, each bite a cautious exploration of the unfamiliar food. The flavors filled her senses, and despite her reservations, she couldn't deny how tasty it was. She handed him the empty tray and slowly sat up as if she was trying to maintain a safe distance from him.

"Did you give me the ointment?" The question tumbled from her lips, it had been haunting her thoughts since she awoke.

He didn't reply.

"I asked you a question," she persisted with a huff.

His lips remained sealed.

"Then who was it?"

He rose from his seat, evading her gaze.

"How typical..."

"Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Whenever I ask you something that you don't want to answer, you conveniently ignore it."

"I don't owe you any answers."

"What's going to happen to me? Will they run more tests on me?"

He nodded.

"I want to go out. I'm suffocating," she said, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

"That's impossible and you know it."

"Did they hurt you as well?" she asked, her unexpected question catching him off guard.

"I'm honored to serve Hydra."

"You can't be that heartless, can you?"

His eyes darkened at her words and she could swear she saw self-loathing in the depths of them. Turning away from her, he ran his fleshy fingers through his hair and tried to ignore the gnawing sense of unease enveloping him. The urge to act irrationally was back, and he had to swallow hard so he could speak without his voice giving him away.

"Keep quiet and do not provoke anyone."

▪️▪️▪️

Grace hadn't seen the sun for what felt like weeks. There was no day-night cycle, only pain, and isolation. She was alive but that didn't even cover all the agony, the hurt, the bruises, and the brokenness Hydra was inflicting upon her. The scientists probed and prodded, subjecting her to a number of tests and from had she had overheard, the first stage was almost complete.

She was ready to accept the serum and Silas was impatient to inject a small dose in her. She was getting dizzy at the thought of the hellish liquid being inserted into her system, even more at the possible downsides of it. She was informed that there was only a 50-50 chance of her surviving once the dose was administered. Either she'd survive the effects of the serum and successfully boost her system or shatter entirely and die.

"A few more days and we can conduct the first dose," Silas said, awfully oozing with satisfaction.

"I'll try to contain my excitement," Grace muttered with a sneer that didn't escape his notice.

"Shut up," Silas spat. "The serum will be administered in three phases. It'll be more effective this way."

Grace wrinkled her nose in disgust. Three doses? Did he intend to dismantle her entirely? She doubted her system could withstand the serum. This was murder. He wanted to kill her, just like he did with her mother. She closed her eyes for a few moments, concealed her grief then opened them and let out a heavy breath. She was suffocating and being close to Silas wasn't helping.

She looked around her, at the mean doctors and inconsiderate nurses and concealed a grimace. The medics were of no help and the Winter Soldier, who normally stood guard beside her was nowhere to be seen. He was present at her every medical test but not that day. And though strange, he was the only one who gave her a sense of safety.

"Looking for someone?" Silas taunted, a lewd grin twisting his lips.

"Yes," Grace replied coolly, "I'm looking for someone to accompany me on a walk. I have been the most obedient test subject so is it too much to ask for a brief respite?"

"Don't make ridiculous demands."

"Am I such a threat that you restrict my every movement?"

He laughed. "Threat?"

"Let me stroll around then. The place is swarming with cameras and armed agents. I couldn't escape even if I tried."

Silas clicked his tongue. "No. You might try something funny."

"And what exactly is that?" she countered. "I'm going crazy here! Do you want to inject the serum when my mental state is at its most fragile?" Her words seemed to have agitated him and she concealed a smile. "Allow me to stroll back to my room."

In the end, Silas gave her the green light. Escorted by a female nurse, Grace went on a short walk inside the compound. She counted her steps and studied every corner and door. She committed everything to memory but kept an emotionless expression in order to fool her company as well as the agents that patrolled the facility.

The oppressive weight of the underground confinement weighed heavily on Grace's realization. It was terrifyingly huge. The number of floors remained an enigma, though the sheer depth was undeniable. The building exuded an air of suffocation, with metal walls and imposing bars.

At some point, the nurse who was escorting her was summoned back to her rightful position, leaving her a few steps away from her cell. In no mood to be isolated, Grace ventured further only to come face-to-face with an armed guard, bristling with muscles and a face full of scars.

"What are you doing here?" His voice cut through the air, commanding and wary.

"Silas has given me authorization. I can move around for a few minutes," she said as proudly as she could and held her breath because she had uttered half the truth. She was indeed allowed to stroll but not without an escort.

Hesitant, the agent grabbed his radio, pressed a button, and spoke, "This is Brock Rumlow. Silas's daughter is taking a walk."

Grace's heart pounded, a mixture of dread and hope intertwining within her. Everything went hazy and blank until she heard the reply from the other side and rejoiced.

"Affirmative."

Rumlow tucked the radio inside the side pocket of his trousers and gave her a once-over. "I'll check on you in five minutes. You'd better be in your room."

Grace nodded briskly, eager to move away from his unsettling presence. She could feel his eyes on her and that unsettling glare gave her the creeps. She didn't like him. At all. Only when she put enough distance between them, did she finally relax. She wandered aimlessly but she eventually got lost in the maze of metal. All doors and corridors appeared the same and she was tired from all those tests and Hydra's constant mental abuse.

Taking a leap of faith, she decided on a door at random, hoping it might lead her back to her own room.

Worst-case scenario? She would be beaten and dragged back to her room.

With a deep breath, she turned the knob and peered inside. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted her—she was inside the Winter Soldier's room. He stood with his upper body exposed, his broad back commanding attention as it stretched before her eyes. Oblivious to her presence, he paced the room, engrossed in a phone call.

His arms flexed, the well-defined muscles in his forearms and biceps contracting with each movement. She inched closer, her bare feet barely making a sound against the floor. When she saw the skin around his bionic arm, a pang of sympathy stabbed at her chest. The part where the metal arm melded with the skin of his shoulder was red and swollen. It appeared so painful.

"We can't proceed the way we originally planned. Things have changed," he said in a rushed voice.

Who was he talking to?

There was an unfamiliar quality to his tone, a warmth and decisiveness that contrasted sharply with the Winter Soldier she had come to know.

Furrowing her brows, she strained to catch the response from the other end of the line.

It's too risky Bucky.

Grace made a soft grimace at the new information, the name she had just heard circling her mind. Bucky? She didn't have time to process more because the Soldier replied in hushed tones, each syllable a distinct murmur that reached her ears.

"I know it's risky, and I don't know how I'm going to cover this up, but right now—"

His words were cut off the exact moment he finally sensed her. His eyes met hers, his mouth parting in shock. The phone slipped from his grip, clattering to the floor with a muted thud. Grace heard faint cries from the other man dying out. He kicked the device away, tossing it under his bed then snapped back to her, his features painted in terror.

Charged tension crackled between them, a palpable silence hanging heavy in the air.

And then, with a sudden surge of raw emotion, he squeezed her against the wall.

His strong arms encircled her, one hand flat against the wall by her head, his chest pressing against hers.

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aikaterini-drag · 8 months ago

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Chapter 17 Courage

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

It was a quiet day. Almost two months passed since the last time Grace had seen or heard from James. Sometimes, Natasha would reveal a tiny bit to her. Until now, Grace knew they were on the hunt, looking for Silas, aiming to destroy Hydra. Their group had apparently expanded, receiving support from the people of Wakanda.

It was a relief... that James was no longer a criminal in King T'Challa's eyes. Finding Silas could clear James' name, leading to a pardon from the government. He could finally lead a normal life, safe and no longer chased by anyone. Grace sighed hopefully, sinking into the chair beside her. She imagined James enveloping her, his musky scent and warmth embracing her.

Longing and need replaced her frustration.

Ever since arriving in Stark Tower, she had made a promise to herself; to find her inner strength and help James. She understood and accepted his rush actions to protect her but she refused to remain a powerless pawn in Hydra's game. She wasn't powerful and strong in matters of strength but she could help him.

"Grace?" Braylon's honeyed voice interrupted her thoughts. "What's with the deep frown?"

Grace turned to him, her lips curving into a small smile. "Nothing. Did you bring the files I asked for?"

"Sure did," he replied, placing envelopes, papers, and a USB on the table. "I'm just curious why you wanted this info."

Grace opened a file, pointing to the name on top. "See this? Felicity Landon."

Recognition dawned in Braylon's eyes. "She has the same surname and... and she looks like you!"

"She's my mother, of course, I resemble her greatly," Grace said with a nostalgic smile. "I need to study these and meet with Tony Stark. Can you arrange it?"

"Consider it done," Braylon said, contacting Tony through his phone. "He'll come down in a jiffy. How can you read these?"

"My mother and I bonded over her work."

Grace delved into the papers, with Braylon curiously crouching beside her. There were reports, medical charts, and mathematic formulas that he had no idea what they meant. Soon, Tony made his entrance, waving his arms in a grandiose manner. He noticed the mess of papers and leaned down, his sunglasses sliding down his nose.

"What's all this?"

"My mother's files. Thanks for hacking Hydra's database," Grace said, acknowledging Tony's effort.

"No problemo. So, your mom was an anti-Hydra researcher?" Tony asked with interest.

"Yes. She was a brilliant scientist, struggling to take down its most cruel power; brainwashing."

"I'm curious... How did they brainwash people?" Braylon asked, genuinely intrigued.

"They manipulated personal memories, used hypnosis, and some sort of mental reprogramming," Tony answered. "They came up with certain trigger words for those who held great potential for their operations... like Barnes."

Grace tried to remain calm and push aside the haunting images of James's ordeal. His every scream was embedded in her mind and she thanked God that he was so resistant to Hydra's brainwashing, fighting against it with all his might. With her mother's knowledge, she could help him once and for all and free him from the Hydra's sickening control.

"However, even if you save him, you can't guarantee his safety..." Tony's voice carried a somber note. "The knowledge of what he did for Hydra... the burden is too heavy. It will be hard to make amends, to confront the person he used to be and the person he has to be."

"And what should I do?" she muttered, troubled and weak. "Leave him be? With those things they've put in his mind?"

"I think what boss means to say is that James deserves to be saved but he might never return to normal..." Braylon explained. "It's not easy to escape from one's past."

"I understand that," Grace replied weakly. "But I'll stand by him, help him if he lets me."

Tony exhaled. "Did your mother have a plan to revert the process of the brainwashing?"

Grace smiled bitterly. "She developed an algorithm to neutralize the vocalized codes without erasing memories. She named it Project Meminero."

"Smart," Tony mused. "Meminero means 'I will remember' in Latin."

"Yes..." Grace said, her features pale. "And that was why Silas approached her. He seduced her by pretending to be a kind, soft-hearted man in order to gain intel about her project. They married and I was born. I was always afraid of him... I could tell that he did not want me. Though an excellent scientist, my mother failed to see his true colors until it was too late."

"What happened next?" Braylon asked.

Grace's lips trembled as she spoke. "When I was a child, we joined SHIELD's protection program. I was eighteen when tragedy struck. Natasha was the head of our security, still, Silas managed to find us... he killed my mother but I managed to escape with knowledge of her work."

Her tone shifted, mournful. "I changed my identity, but he still... well, you know the rest."

"What a terrifying man," Braylon said.

"That's why I need your help," she said and met Tony's stare. "Hydra is also your enemy. We can combine our data and cooperate to take down their most monstrous project."

"And what is it that we must do?" Tony asked, eager to get this mission going.

"This is where it gets tough." She paused meaningfully then added, "My mother hid everything in a place only I know of."

"Then all we have to do is take it," Braylon said. "Grace... you hold the future in your hands."

"You've found your strength, your courage," Tony smirked. "Revealing all of this shows your dedication to him."

Grace let out a nervous chuckle. "I just want this nightmare to end. Ignoring the pain won't lead me forward. Confronting Hydra and Silas is the way to save James and myself."

Tony nodded. "You have my unwavering support. Prepare yourself. We're heading out. Let's uncover your mother's work and make her proud."

"But... what about Natasha?" Grace asked, well aware that the redhead spy wouldn't let them off so easily.

"You forget who I am," Tony smirked. "So... where are we heading?"

▪️▪️▪️

James rolled out of bed, a long groan escaping him. Once again, his sleep had been plagued by frightful images and screeching voices. He rubbed his throbbing temples and swallowed hard, tasting the agony, the disrepair. The nightmares persisted, he couldn't rest, and not even the sleeping pills could help rid him of the nightmares.

With a heavy sigh, he lifted himself from the makeshift bed on the floor, berating himself for being so foolish, so heartless with Grace. Leaving her had affected him more than he had imagined. She had been a comforting refuge, a warm embrace in a world rife with chaos and pain. And he had turned away from her, deceiving and abandoning the only person who managed to make him feel such precious feelings.

For all the above, he refused to break his resolve. He cared for Grace, more than words could possibly describe, and it was precisely the reason that compelled him to keep his distance. Danger followed him at every corner and she had to remain safe, pure, and gentle. That was what he repeated to himself day after day. It had turned into a mantra as he focused on his mission.

With these thoughts in mind, Bucky navigated the corridors of the jet, eventually reaching the upper level. In a matter of hours, they would reach Croatia, following one of T'Challa's leads. He stared outside blankly, lost in the sight of the night sky and its shimmering stars. He stared blankly until the sound of approaching footsteps grabbed his attention.

"Can't sleep?" Steve's voice carried through the air.

"Got a lot on my mind," Bucky muttered, discomfort and vulnerability in his tone.

"You're having nightmares..." Steve was now only a few steps away.

"Every damn night," came Bucky's response, hoarse, almost inaudible. "But I can handle it."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "This is not good, Buck."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... the same old stuff," he replied, though his haunted eyes betrayed the true weight of his ordeal.

"Why don't you call her?" Steve suggested. James yearned for Grace. He called out her name in his sleep, begging her to come to him.

"No," Bucky said, ignoring the bittersweet pull on his heart at the mere thought of hearing her voice.

"Why are you so strict with yourself? Why deny happiness?"

"What happiness, Steve?" James said, his red-rimmed eyes focusing on him. "I'm a lab experiment, a bomb about to go off. Silas can hurt Grace just by using the goddamn words on me."

"You are strong and resilient. You always find your way back."

"What if I suddenly can't come back? What if I break down?" Bucky replied, the context of his words more frightening than death itself.

"Buck..."

"Look. I need to eradicate Hydra and disappear from the world. Find peace, someplace where I can no longer hurt people."

"Grace trusted you. Even with her memories gone, she trusted you." Steve knew he was venturing into sensitive territory but refused to give up. "You must speak to her. No more hiding the truth."

With a pathetic sigh, Bucky covered his face with his hands. "After what I've done?"

"She might lash at you. I'm sure. But once I tell her what a moody slump you've been ever since you two separated, I'm sure she will forgive you."

For the first time after so long, Bucky laughed. "Really?"

"Really," Steve half laughed. "Think it over. If you lose her, you'll regret it forever."

Bucky cleared his throat and changed the conversation. "So what's our plan once we arrive?

"T'Challa's intel suggests unusual activity at an abandoned house in Krapina, Croatia," Steve explained. "CCTV spotted a jet resembling the one Silas used."

"It's worth checking out."

"Silas might have created more super soldiers with the new serum," Steve said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And judging by what we saw from Rumlow, it is incredibly strong."

"Hydra is more dangerous than ever. With nothing to lose, I say they definitely injected most of their agents," Bucky said, coiling in disgust.

"We'll manage—"

Steve's words were cut short by the insistent ringing of his phone. It was the ungodly hour of the call and Natasha's number flashing on the screen that instilled a sense of urgency. And once he did, her news plastered a worried expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Bucky strained his ears, catching snippets of conversation, and his heart skipped a beat as he heard Grace's name. "Grace?"

Steve grumbled. "She and Tony Stark have left the tower."

James released a heavy breath. "We should figure out where they're headed." Without waiting for a response, he strode forward. "I'm altering our course to track her down."

"Hold on!" Steve interjected, grabbing his shoulder. "No need to change direction. Grace is actually quite close by."

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 10 Intimate

Chapter Summary: Our couple has its very first intimate moments.

Warnings (this chapter): 18+, MDI, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, No P in V sex but a lot of sexy action.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Cuddling... James thought, was truly one of the most exquisite joys life had to offer, a sensation he savored as he enveloped Grace in his embrace.

Ever since their last kiss, it was as if a switch had flicked and everything had changed for the best. In the days that followed, Grace was constantly in his arms, shyly touching his chest while he got soft whiffs of her scent. He found himself yearning for her warmth, her lips—those sweet, irresistible lips—without a hint of shame.

He had grown addicted to her, a slave to her sweetness, holding an overwhelming urge to protect her. And so did she. Together, they found peace within each other's arms, especially during the night. Their sleep was no longer filled with nightmares. When drew close, nothing and no one could harm them.

They had security and he could swear, he had never slept that purely in his life. Still, he couldn't help but entertain other thoughts—undeniably improper ideas—especially when her fingers grazed his chest, their journey daringly venturing toward his lower stomach or upper thighs.

"James?"

He gazed down at her, smiling at the sound of his name on her lips. "Hm?"

"Care to share what's on your mind?"

"You," he murmured, his lips tracing a tender path from her collarbone to her shoulder.

"I'd like more details," she said and squeaked when he nuzzled her neck.

"Some thoughts are better kept as secrets."

"But I'm the subject of these thoughts. I have a right to know," she protested, a flush coloring her cheeks.

"You're exquisite," he breathed, his lips tantalizingly close to her ear.

"You're an exquisite man, too."

"Thanks for letting me be close to you. You have no idea, no idea..." he exhaled softly— how you bring me to life, how you light up my existence.

The words remained buried in his head as he bent down and captured her lips. The bed seemed to shift beneath them as he rolled, enveloping her with his weight and pinning her back against the mattress. She severed delightful, moaning when his tongue requested entrance to her mouth. She opened up and they kissed languidly, their tongues lazily sweeping.

Caught up in the sensations, she clutched the fabric of his shirt, slightly irritated by the barrier between them. She hauled it up and sneaked her hands under the fabric to trace the contours of his muscles. He groaned into their kiss, attempting to dissuade her, but she persisted, unconsciously challenging his resilience.

In a matter of moments, his resolve crumbled. He broke away from the kiss with a moan to swiftly remove his shirt, casting it aside without care. He hovered above her as she brushed her hands over his wonderfully broad chest and stopped a few inches from the wound where his metal arm met the upper skin of his shoulder.

Her eyes lingered on the matter skin, her eyes misty. The extent of the unhealed scar was horrible. She had noticed his distinctive gait due to its weight but she had never considered the profound agony it caused. Her heart ached just by imagining what he had endured in the hands of Hydra for nearly a century; a century of torture and pain.

"Grace..." his gentle murmur broke through her thoughts.

"Does it hurt?" she said, trying hard to hold back the tears.

"You can touch it," he said, guiding her trembling hand toward the patch of skin. "Right here. It doesn't hurt."

Gently, she outlined the patch of skin, her chin trembling. Of course, it hurt. He was only concealing it or had probably gotten used to the pain throughout the years.

"Such bravery," she whispered, her voice quivering as she looked up at him, a small, sincere smile on her lips. "You're incredibly brave, James. Never doubt that. Never."

Before he could respond, she cupped the back of his neck and drew him down to her, claiming his lips in a delicious come-and-get-me motion. She tasted his deep moans and felt his metal fingertips on her forearms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Their touches burned, an insatiable hunger driving them headlong into desire.

He covered her with his body, a knee sneaking between her thighs. Her legs opened up on their own volition and she swallowed hard, struggling to keep her breathing even at the feel of him against her. Heat flooded her core when he pressed against the apex of her thighs, her fingers tangling in his hair, every moment of contact making her delirious.

He kissed her again and again, wet noises echoing, mixed with their little pants of pleasure. They had never been so close, with him rubbing provocatively between her legs, her knees seated on either side of his strong hips. His hands toyed with the edges of her shirt, blindsided between taking it off or preserving the fragile barrier between them.

Mirroring his want, she reached for her shirt, watching as his eyes darkened and locked on her. The garment slid up and over her head, baring her breasts and leaving her exposed. Her cheeks flushed with vulnerability and anticipation and he kept looking at her, his stare stronger than his touch.

"As I said... so beautiful..."

His words trailed off as he marveled at the bare body beneath him, his brain short-circuiting. She was incredibly slender and delicate compared to his rugged frame; slender but with gentle, curvy features. He was impossibly aroused by the pale, smooth breasts that swelled with each heavy breath and the pink little nipples that hardened in the cool air.

James felt his muscles tense, his inner turmoil evident in the taut lines of his body.

Did he deserve to have such beauty under him? Was it right to allow his desire to take control? Especially when— when she didn't even remember him?

"Grace..." he said in a warning tone, drawing slightly back.

"What's the matter?" She cupped his scratchy cheeks and brought him back to her.

"This is getting dangerous."

She offered a tender smile, her fingers brushing against his lips. "You really are old-fashioned, Sergeant Barnes."

"I just don't want to overstep any boundaries," he groaned, feeling her lips against his throat. "And it's been so long since I've been with anyone..."

"I haven't been with anyone at all," she whispered, her confession causing him to flinch.

"What?"

"You were my first kiss..." she admitted, a warm flutter in her chest. "With Silas on my tail, I never... I never settled with anyone. No one felt right."

"Your first... I'm sorry— we... we can't... of all the people I'm not the right one," he stumbled over his words, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

"You are wrong. Believe me, please..." Her plea was a whisper. "I've never felt this way before. Don't you feel the same?"

He looked at her with a shocked expression. "Y—you truly want me?"

A small, confident smile tugged at her lips. "I believe I've made that quite clear."

James suppressed a moan; she was pure temptation. Speaking to him so sweetly, with her eyes so big and honest, her breasts provoking him with every soft breath, her lips sore and rosy from their kisses. He clenched his eyes shut, attempting to banish the overwhelming sensations, but found that things only got worse; he could still see her, feel her.

"Why resist this? Don't you feel—"

"I want to care for you, more deeply than you realize," he said. "But I am a super soldier. My instincts are not meant for—"

"You are James." It was her turn to cut him off. "You've already touched me and I want you to keep going."

"We'll take it slow. Step by step."

Blushing furiously under him, she trailed her fingers over his chest, then down to unfasten his trousers. He stopped her and led his hands to tug at the rest of her clothes until she was exposed, wearing nothing but her sweet scent beneath him. He remained fully dressed as his lips and tongue explored her skin, leaving red marks and trails of his scent.

He cupped her breasts in his palms and dove down to kiss around the pink buds. Her neck strained and she squealed under him, clutching his shoulders feebly. He took his time caressing and suckling the throbbing tips before leisurely moving onto her belly, her hips and then the moist center between her thighs. Warm fingers circled her entrance, liquid warmth flooding her core. Wet kisses were peppered along her thighs then closer, closer still until—

He kissed her mound, tongue licking at the pussy lips.

Her eyes snapped open, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She arched up and grabbed a handful of his hair, wiggling and whining. He caressed her thighs, his palms keeping a gentle hold on her while he teased the heart of her, revealing reactions she didn't even know her body possessed. It was sinful yet every inch of her burned and shivered for more.

"James.... m... more."

"Hmm..." was all he managed, too focused on gathering her wetness and rolling it beneath two gentle fingers.

"Please..." she said, her voice strained and desperate.

"Feels good?" he drawled, teasing a stroke over her clit.

"Good... so good," she licked her lips, his gentle movements driving her higher and higher.

Grace sucked in deep breaths and amid the cloud of desire, resumed removing his clothes. He resisted again, too engrossed in kissing her pussy. But she coerced him into cooperating, forcing him to leave her sweet taste and lean back on his heels. His pants and boxers slid off immediately, and she finally let her eyes run over his fully exposed body.

God, he was exquisite.

Like a finely sculpted statue, all lean muscles and strength. He appeared so big and powerful, bared above her—all the rippling muscles and his weight pinning her down. His stomach was taut, a light trail of hair leading to the prominent and well-endowed hardness jutting up from between his legs.

"You are staring at me," he said, shyness in his voice.

"You are huge." There wasn't a more delicate way to phrase it.

"That's because I'm aroused. It's not always that way."

"I doubt it'll shrink much either way."

He half-laughed. "I promise I won't enter you."

"Why not?"

"Did you forget already, little temptress?" He tapped her forehead gently. "We're supposed to be taking things slow."

"What if I want to speed things up a bit?"

"Nothing will change. I'm not taking any chances."

"Stubborn," she muttered, her cheeks flushing. "May I at least touch you? It's only fair."

"Feel me."

Lower lip caught between her white teeth, she reached out, palming the thick, hard length of him. The feel of him stunned her. He was so thick and warm, so hard yet soft. She studied his heated gaze when she stroked him, her fingers tracing the veins along his shaft then all around the swollen sack and repeating the same motion again. Was she doing ok? He growled and moved closer to give her more access while bringing his hands back to her core.

She smiled. She was doing more than okay.

But her satisfaction was over before it even started.

He rolled her onto her side and pressed behind her, his fleshy hand cupping a pert round breast, his mouth bending to suck each rosy nipple into his mouth. Squeezing her thighs together, he guided his shaft between her closed thighs. She bucked against him, her breath catching when the head of his cock passed through her thighs, kissing her clit. His lips latched on her neck as their bodies moved in harmony, the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh loud and vulgar.

He rocked over and over without penetrating, peppering thorough kisses as his hands cupped and toyed with her nipples, playing with the sensitized flesh. Heat rolled through her veins, his increasing strokes lightning bolts of fulfillment inside her. Her belly tightened, her walls clenching in a wondrous feeling she was experiencing for the first time.

She could barely contain her moans as she convulsed around aching nothingness and felt him follow almost immediately, spilling pulse after pulse on the bedding. His shoulders trembled, the veins in his neck pumping. She marveled at the new side of him that she had witnessed, the sheer beauty of his vulnerability.

A few moments of silence rolled by, during which he sagged into her, boneless and out of breath. He fondled her hair and purred in satisfaction as he carefully settled back and took a few seconds to realize what had happened. He breathed in and out, gazing at her smiling lips and flushed cheeks. She was happy, satisfied. He hadn't lost control of his superpowers. Sighing in relief, he snuggled into her neck as their legs tangled together.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his fingers fondling her hair.

"It was so perfect that I want more," she said and curved her back into him.

"You are a heartless temptress," he suppressed a moan and pulled the blanket over his lower body, seeking some semblance of restraint.

She laughed and turned over to fully face him. "Alright, Sergeant. I have a request, unrelated to what just happened."

"I'm listening."

"I was wondering if we could go for a walk tomorrow morning. I miss the sun, the breeze..."

Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her. "Silas is still out there. It's too dangerous."

"But you've ventured out before. Why can't I?" she asked and mustered what had to be the cutest puppy-eyes look. "Nothing will happen to me as long as you're with me."

He hesitated for a few seconds but as he gazed into her hopeful eyes, his resolve began to crumble, and he couldn't bear to disappoint her.

"Alright. We can go out, but just for a short while."

"Really?" She let out a cry of excitement and pulled him into a swift kiss. "Thank you!"

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 9 Cuddles

Chapter summary: Grace and Bucky have a quiet night, cuddling in the couch and making out.

Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings (this chap): Fluff, Kisses, Discussion of Emotions, Sexual Tension, Soft Bucky Barnes.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Silver stars hung in the dark sky. The night was quiet and beautiful, with rays of the glittering moon passing through the windows. James lingered in a corner of the living room, pretending to read a newspaper. He watched Grace secretly, hesitant about whether to approach her or not. She was nestled on the couch, surrounded by plump cushions, paying attention to a music program on TV.

At times, she would sing along and she had such a calming voice that, for some reason, it made his chest vibrate. The softness of her voice held an inexplicable power as if it had the ability to soothe his restless soul. He stepped closer, his footsteps silent yet she still turned her head, her gaze meeting his, her song tapering off into the stillness.

"Sorry, was I singing too loudly?"

He swallowed thickly and replied, "No, you shouldn't have stopped..."

"Really?"

He hummed. "You have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you." A rosy blush crept across her cheeks, and she shifted on the couch, making room for him. "Don't stand there. Join me."

"Um... m-maybe... I d-don't know..." he mumbled awkwardly, very deliberately not meeting her eyes.

Noticing his rather cute reluctance, she outstretched her hands. "Come over. Let's cuddle Sarge."

Her words lit a fire in him and the next thing she felt was his warm body against her. As she positioned herself, he gathered her into his embrace, his arms enveloping her in a protective hold. She snuggled up against him, chest to chest, burying her head in the crook of his neck. She smiled and her my eyes for a second, silently inhaling and exhaling his natural musk.

James moaned in contempt, marveling at the way her body fit against his, her warmth seeping into his very being. She affected him in more ways than one, and it was beginning to scare him. Thoughts danced in his mind, the stark contrast between their worlds a reminder of the darkness he carried within. She was a beacon of light, delicate and precious, while he was a tempest of shadows and violence.

They were so different.

She was soft and scared of violence, while he had spent decades killing people for sport.

He could never truly have her yet... a part of him, the greedy part in him yearned to hold her, to feel her; even for a few greedy moments, even for these days they would spend together. She was the only ray of sunshine setting alight his black life, the only person willing to face him as an equal.

"Tighter," she said, shaking off his thoughts.

"What?"

"Hug me tighter." She raised her head and kissed his cheek. "You aren't going to break me."

"I kind of did... back then, when I was the Winter Soldier... you bore the bruises, the pain—"

"You weren't yourself. I thought we settled that," she said while playing idly with the fabric of his shirt.

"I still have a metal arm. I need to be careful."

"You are brave and strong," Grace began, "qualities I wish I possessed more of. I often feel like I bring nothing but trouble."

"Don't say that."

"But it's true... I can barely handle watching a fight without falling apart."

"You're not weak. There's a different kind of power in you; kindness, a rare quality in this world." And as for violence, you can simply close your eyes and stop watching."

She frowned adorably. "Close my eyes? Isn't that weird?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I think it's a perfect solution. Violence can't harm you if you're not looking."

"Alright, I'll give it a try," she said and felt his breath hitch at her words.

"You will never witness anything that will stress you out. Never again."

"I'm confident you'll be there to protect me. Just as I'll be here to chase away the nightmares that haunt you."

"No one can save me from Hydra..." he muttered. "I must be careful, very careful because if I accidentally get brainwashed again, and god forbid, I do something to you—"

"Stop," she said, her voice rising proudly. "Make positive thoughts. Don't draw the darkness. Hydra can not control you. You're long immune to their sick ways."

"I hope you're right. I don't want you to be hurt..." he said and buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent.

"You underestimate yourself. You won't hurt me or anyone else. With time, I'm sure you'll learn to release the blame you've carried for far too long."

He looked up at her aghast and when she smiled, she was so sweet, causing his heart to thud so loudly he feared she might hear it.

"How do you always manage to make me speechless with those words of yours?"

"Hmm... Maybe because I can only think of you and the way you hold me with your strong hands."

"You're the only one who thinks of me like that," he replied, pressing a tender kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Does that mean I'm unique?"

A soft hum escaped him, a barely audible affirmation, followed by a gentle brush of his lips at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were moist and warm against his own. He tightened his hold on her and inhaled sharply, all the sounds around them fading. She moaned happily and curled into him more comfortably, leaning up to kiss him deeper.

"You are unique," he whispered into her mouth, his fleshly thumb caressing her cheek.

"Ah, the classic sweet talk," she playfully teased, peppering kisses along his jawline.

"Flirting, I believe they call it flirting," he chuckled softly. "Though I suppose I am a bit old-fashioned."

"Well... you're old school, but I happen to really like that." Her curiosity got the best of her. "So, when was the last time you... well, you know, were intimate with someone?"

A thoughtful pause and he finally replied, "During World War 2, I believe. It was actually a double date, with Steve and Peggy. Stark Expo, if I remember correctly."

"Ah, inseparable best friends, I see."

He nodded. "Steve is one of a kind. He was—is my best friend, my family. And he's the only man to have taken the serum and remain the same. Brave. Virtuous. Untainted."

She raised an eyebrow. "He's not the only one! You've taken the serum too, and you're the one and only Sergeant James Bucky Barnes."

"I have a past—"

"Your past doesn't define you," she interjected firmly. "What Hydra did to you is not a reflection of your true self. You're not a killing machine. You have feelings. Don't degrade yourself. If you do, I might just have to deliver a friendly punch to that handsome face of yours."

His laughter rang out, a melody of genuine amusement. "I thought you couldn't stand violence."

She grinned mischievously. "I can't watch it, but I can inflict it. And besides, you're a super soldier. A little punch won't hurt."

He chuckled, a warmth spreading through his chest. "I'll try to do better. Alright?"

"You've almost convinced me."

He raised a brow. "Almost?"

"Hmm... you need to give me more kisses, Sergeant."

He chuckled. "I believe your intentions are to thoroughly take advantage of me."

"Are you complaining? I'm gonna leave then," she attempted to squirm away but he drew her onto him.

"I'm not letting you go that easily."

She feigned a mock pout. "And what are we supposed to do now?"

"Do you want to spend the rest of the night with this old man, kissing and occasionally watching TV?"

A soft smile tugged at her lips. "I'd be more than happy to—"

The rest of her words melted when he kissed her, a warm sensation buzzing inside her. Her arms snaked around his neck as his tongue traced the seam of her lips, seeking entry. With a soft sigh of surrender, she welcomed him, their mouths melding in a passionate dance. She molded herself against his chest, fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back. All the sounds died out as their connection deepened, the television utterly forgotten.

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

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Chapter 8 Caress

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Bucky grunted in his sleep, ragged breaths moving in and out of his lips at gasping intervals. Flashbacks clawed at his mind, tormenting him with chilling scenes of his past. He saw the things the Winter Soldier had done, a haunting playback of his own actions. He could hear the people he had killed, their screams, and he could see their poor eyes.

Every detail etched into his memory.

Blood.

Screams.

Innocence shattered.

Victims left in the wake of merciless brutality.

And then, amidst the turmoil, even Grace's face emerged.

In the delirium of his dreams, the Soldier was unable to stop the bloodthirst and the cursed programming that surged within him. His mechanical fingers formed a brutal vise around her delicate neck, a relentless pressure that suffocated her. She appeared so fragile in his grasp, trembling and tears streaming down her face, a haunting reflection of helplessness.

Stifled cries emerged from his lips, his mouth quivering with each gasp. He jolted awake, the shock so severe that it sent him lurching upright, his body falling off the couch where he had been sleeping. He landed on the floor with a thud, his chest heaving as if it were an overinflated balloon suddenly punctured by a needle. He was sweating with fear, his hands cold and clammy.

With trembling hands, he rubbed away the remnants of tears that clung to his eyes, his gaze darting toward the nearby clock. Nearly 6 a.m. ticked the hands, a merciless reminder that his mind refused to grant him even an hour of peaceful sleep. Sighing, he dragged his feet into a sitting position and right at that moment, a soft gentle voice caught his attention.

"James?"

Then he saw her. His stare wasn't supposed to be so focused on her, but there was a magnetic pull, an undeniable sense of safety that drew him to her. She was so alluring, bathed in the pale light of dawn, her loose waves cascading around her face. She was holding a glass of water in her palm and she was a sight for sore eyes.

"Are you alright?" She stepped closer, drawing nearer with a gentleness, closer still, until she was within arm's reach. His cries had pierced the silence and she couldn't help but worry.

"I woke you up... I'm sorry," he said softly and bent his head so she couldn't see his pathetic state.

"No, you didn't. I couldn't sleep." She could tell that he was still hazy and all she wanted to do was reach out and hug him. "Breathe. It's over."

A knot of gratitude formed in his chest. "I..."

"Here, have some water," she said, offering him the glass of water.

"Thank you," he said after he downed its contents in a few gulps. He rubbed his temples as if trying to dispel the previous horrid images from his mind.

"I'll stay with you," she said, her voice a whisper that held unwavering support. "Until you find your way back to sleep."

"I'm not going back to sleep," he said. "But you should go back. Don't worry. I'm fine."

"That's okay. I'll keep you company."

He tried to summon a reassuring smile, despite the fatigue that clung to him. "You should go back. I'll be fine."

"You're still pale."

"Why do you care about me?" he replied, his sudden question catching her unprepared.

Her response was tender, honest. "I don't know. It just feels right."

"You're already aware of this, Grace, but I think it's important to remind you. I've done terrible things. Horrible things. I am a horrible person. And that is an understatement."

"You're not talking about yourself right now. You're talking about the Winter Soldier. And that's not who you are."

His doubt lingered, self-damnation threatening to engulf him. "No. I am one of the worst men you'll encounter. I've manipulated and killed people in cold blood."

"You were being controlled. You were a victim and everything was committed against your will."

"My hands..." He clenched his fists and said, "My hands did all those things."

She gave him a compassionate smile. "But those hands also helped me and comforted me. They saved my life."

He stood speechless at that and she continued.

"You're constantly at war with yourself when you clearly want to change."

"Change into what?"

"Into yourself. You're Sergeant Barnes, and that's the person you should embrace and accept." She sent him a tender look and that made his heart clench.

"I don't deserve this."

"Alright then, no more talking about stuff that will make you feel worse. We need to loosen up."

A wry chuckle escaped him. "What exactly can we do at 6 am? Dance?"

Her eyes sparkled. "That's a fantastic idea! Dancing can banish those haunting dreams from our minds."

He laughed. "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious."

"I haven't danced since... well, since 1943!"

"Then we should remedy that immediately," she said, rising gracefully from her seat. "Come on, let's dance those worries away."

He blinked, not moving at all. "What— no! I don't even remember— and there's no music!"

"Stop complaining," she countered and motioned him to join her. "I can sing. I'll pick a song that you'll definitely like. Stop being so grumpy and let's dance, Sergeant Barnes."

Hearing her call him by his rank, melted his heart. Oh... she had done it. Unable to deny her request, he stood and closed the distance between them. Since he was too shy to touch her, she reached for his metal arm and looped it around her waist. The other interlocked with hers and rested over his chest. With a trembling breath, he drew her close, their bodies pressing together.

"Close your eyes and erase every single thought. Right now, you're Sergeant Barnes enjoying a dance. Just that," she whispered, her warm brown eyes taken in by his intense blue ones.

"I'm Sergeant Barnes."

She leaned her head against his chest. "Now, let the music take over."

With a soft hum, she began to sing.

Kiss me once Then, kiss me twice Then, kiss me once again It's been a long, long time Haven't felt like this, my dear Since can't remember when It's been a long, long time You'll never know How many dreams I dream about you Or just how empty they all seem without you So, kiss me once Then, kiss me twice Kiss me once again It's been a long, long time...

"This song..." he muttered, affected beyond imagination. The tune carried him back to a bygone era, a time when he was a soldier heading into the fray. Her voice, tender and melodious, seemed to caress his tormented soul, stitching together his raw edges and soothing his aching wounds.

"I know a few vintage songs," she shared as they swayed in each other's arms.

He chuckled. "Vintage songs for a vintage man."

"I had this notion that Sergeant Barnes would be quite the charmer with the ladies. You're ruining my fantasies."

A small smile came over his face. "I'm terribly sorry. As it appears, I've misplaced my charm."

He grinned remained as he made a graceful turn, their bodies moving in perfect sync. He was lulled by their dance, their connection. He wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss her senseless or keep dancing with her forever.

"Dancing is nice indeed," he whispered, his voice deep and husky.

"See? You're already feeling better," she said, her head tilting to meet his gaze. "I'm feeling rather relaxed myself."

His eyes crinkled at the sight of her unstoppable smile. His heart felt warm all of a sudden, a gentle fluttering sensation coiling in the pit of his stomach. No other woman had dragged these sorts of emotions from him. No one. Her soft features seemed to beckon him, a silent invitation he felt compelled to answer.

For the first time in his life, he listened to his premonition and... kissed her.

Grace yielded to the kiss and arched against him, the sensation of his lips against hers sending tingles racing down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut, while his remained half-open. His lips were velvety soft, warm and tantalizingly moist. With every gentle press of his mouth against hers, her heart surged, blood coursing through her veins at an electrifying pace.

"James?" she breathed in his mouth and playfully brushed her nose against his.

"What did I just do?" Shocked at what he had done, he reeled back. His eyes raked over her and it was a dire mistake; she was flushed, her lips still glistening from their shared kiss.

She smiled. "You gave me a kiss. A rather hurried one though..."

"Hurried?"

"Hmm.... but I understand. You haven't had much practice."

"I-I... I'm sorry..." he said and heard his own voice shake. What the hell?! This had never happened in the past. He never stuttered and he certainly did not feel that hot and bothered.

"Don't be. I liked it. A lot. Although, it did end rather abruptly..."

"In that case..." He cleared his throat, his eyes piercing through her. "I-I would be more than willing to give it another try."

"Please do so."

And with her encouragement, he leaned in once more, a soft sigh escaping him as he reclaimed her lips. His arms wrapped securely around her waist, and she reciprocated by tangling her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and savoring the sensations. They shared the same breaths, their bodies molding incredibly close.

Cupping his unshaven cheeks, she tilted her head to one side so she could fully savor the sultry kiss. Their moans echoed in the room that encased them, eventually leading them to collapse onto the nearby sofa. Her body pressed him into the cushions as he settled atop him, her legs straddling his thighs. Never straying from his mouth, she tightened her arms around his neck and squealed in delight when she felt the hardness of his arousal, firm and throbbing, vibrating against her core.

Their touches burned and he groaned, unable to take the need throbbing in his pants. They broke apart, their chests rising and falling with rapid breaths. His hand, warm against her skin, tenderly cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. His eyes traced her kiss-swollen mouth, the evidence of their shared intimacy, and he couldn't help but admire the blush that adorned her cheeks.

"How's that for a kiss?" he drawled, a thumb rubbing circles into her cheeks.

"I will never underestimate you again, Sergeant Barnes," she said, giving him a lopsided smile.

They remained locked in a tight embrace, their bodies molded together as if they were always meant to fit perfectly. As the minutes stretched on, their eyes began to feel heavy, soothing fatigue tugging at their senses. They slept in the warmth of each other, no nightmares daring to intrude upon their precious moment.

▪️▪️▪️

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, and met with the delightful sensation of a soft, warm body pressing him down. Their positions had shifted during their slumber, and now he lay stretched out on the couch, while she rested comfortably on top of him. Her head found solace in the crook of his shoulder, and her right hand rested over his heart. She was breathing rhythmically, her half-open lips almost touching his neck.

A jolt of both surprise and arousal coursed through him, sensations he had programmed to forget resurfacing. The kiss they had shared played vividly in his mind, so tantalizing and exhilarating. Somehow, miraculously, he had slept soundly beside her, without interruptions and horrible dreams. And as it appeared she was equally cosy, no bad memories hunting her.

He willed himself to remain still, to enjoy the intimate connection between them. But the guy hiding beneath his pants chose to say hi, rising to full mast. He had never sported such a raging erection, never before so affected. His heart beat erratically as his thoughts ran toward forbidden territory. A mini freak-out consumed him and no matter how much he tried to control it, it became worse.

Decades of suppression and isolation had left him unfamiliar with the demands of the female body. He hadn't touched himself or craved a woman for so long, and with her tempting him, his body was practically going into shock. Suppressing a groan, he attempted to gently flip her over, but she woke up and snuggled even closer. Her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment before drifting shut once more.

"Uhm... Grace?" He suppressed a moan, his hands gently anchoring her hips to still her restless movements. "Moving like that isn't exactly helping."

"Oh..." Was the most eloquent word she could muster, too hazy from sleep and the undeniable pressure that pulsed between her legs. Before matters could escalate further, he tenderly lifted her and settled her beside him on the couch. She sighed when she lost the feel of his body and sat against an arrangement of cushions.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked shyly.

"Yes..." He shifted, crossing a leg over his knee. "I've never slept so peacefully in my whole life."

"Me too."

"Do you regret this? The kiss, I mean," he said, the tremor in his words betraying his uncertainty.

"Regret? Never." He leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. "I'd kiss you again. Would you?"

He brushed their mouths together in a featherlight kiss. "Does that answer your question?"

"Hmm... I am very pleased with you, Sergeant."

"You keep calling me that and I can't have enough."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, latching onto the hem of his shirt, her touch a gentle affirmation of their newfound closeness.

"You shouted my name back at the compound, remember? You helped me, Grace. You have no idea how much."

"And I hope I can keep helping you if you'll let me."

"You're so willing to risk your life," he said, a shadow of melancholy gathering in his eyes.

"For both of us and for the greater good. We've both been victims, but we can save the future."

"You are right..."

"Now," she said and cupped his shoulders, "where were we?"

James suppressed a growl when her fingers threaded through his hair, tenderly caressing the nape of his neck. Their world seemed to tilt, ever so slightly, as he mouthed at her lips, softly grazing his facial hair against her smooth skin. His tongue licked over her bottom lip, tasting her again, getting his head filled with her taste.

"I suggest we sleep together from now on," she sighed, moving her lips against his. "It's for the best."

"You are an incurable tease," he whispered on her skin, one calloused finger rubbing at her chin.

"Perhaps I am. But you seem to enjoy it, Sergeant."

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