#mercenary!bucky barnes

[imaginedreamwrite]

Here’s Your Perfect: Part 2

The lord’s manor was alight with buzzing gossip from ladies in waiting, the few that had been far friendlier to you than most.

Your father had been commissioned to create a few gifts for a visiting Lord of the north and his mate, the two alphas’ journey to the south wasn’t just meant to be a social visit. The Lord was making an appearance in the south to refortify some business contracts and negotiations.

At the news of their arrival, your father, mother, brother and yourself were invited to stay in the Lord’s manor alongside a few chosen guests. The chosen few to stay were on the cusp of being part of the nobility, albeit the lower ranks, and their appearance would have looked good for the Lord of the south.

In preparation for staying at the manor and attending the balls that were being held for Lord Levinson and Knight Barnes, your mother had given your brother and yourself intense lectures about acting accordingly.

Your brother was meant to secure a strong match with one of the noble daughters, a guarantee that your parents would scratch and crawl their way up the social ladder. Your brother had enough charm and charisma to gain the high class and unattached ladies, and he certainly had experience fooling around behind your parent’s backs.

If the maids that worked in the tavern had been any indication then your brother had quite the reputation for being a man of ill-morals.

Still, it was all fine for your brother to bed as many low-class women as he wanted as long as he still managed to marry a fine woman.

“As for you,” your mother had chided you, scornfully studying you with distaste, “I think you should find yourself sparse. No noblemen would be encouraged to be wed to an omega like you lest he be under the guise of alcohol.”

The sharp tongue and blistering insult had once upon a time rendered you a sullen mess while you struggled to gain your mother’s affection, your father’s devotion or your brother’s care.

You had learned to resign yourself to being the blackened stain upon your family’s legacy, the future of being a drunkard’s wife or a common whore was almost a guarantee for yourself. Unless your mother and father could find a man and alpha willing to take you upon themselves as nothing more than a tool for their pleasure, you would become any man’s toy.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten mother, fade into the background and pretend I’m no more important than a phantom.” You had long since come to accept your place as the lingering letdown of your family.

You had given your mother exactly what you wanted once it was announced that tea was going to be served in the sitting room, the first event to welcome the Lord and mercenary, or Knight depending on who you spoke to, to the manor. You had departed like your mother wished, armed with a book and a small satchel of fruit you had left the manor to seek your escape into the garden.

The skirts of your dress trailed with you as you took the path from the back entrance to the endearing peacefulness of the florals and fauna. You had come upon a stone bench set between a wooden arch decorated with fauna and greenery, the delicate nature of the growing vines providing as much comfort as the quietude had.

You had unfolded your book and sank to the bench with the book held in your hands, your eyes reading the ink upon the book as you entered your world and forgot what was happening around you.

Your only distraction had come an hour later when the scent of alpha had permeated the hedges to settle upon your senses. You had found yourself less interested in the book as you were in the lingering alpha nearby, finding that his scent was far less egregious than others you had come across.

“I thought everyone was invited to the party, and here you’re hiding out.” The voice was husky and deep, almost as rich as pure honey as he crooned with natural seduction.

He was standing on the other side of the living wall, the towering hedges that had acted as a topiary maze, and from your secondhand experience had been a good place for couples to hide away for sensual and private moments.

You paused mid-sentence and bit down on the inside of your cheek, humming under your breath as the scent had become thicker, radiating as if the alpha speaking from the other side of the living wall was projecting his natural pheromones as some kind of calling card.

It was a direct response to you as an omega, an alpha who was in the presence of an unmarked omega. You knew you could have felt some integral glimmer of anticipation and fear at the prospect of being so close to a mated alpha, however between his scent and the sound of his voice you were rather curious.

“I’m not one for these kinds of parties.” You snapped the book shut with a click, beginning to rise to your feet when another scent encroached upon you. “It’s the same people and the same conversations, a kind of pissing contest to see whose ego is bigger.”

The alpha had laughed, his voice thick and heady, and you were well aware of his footsteps echoing on the stone path as he started to move. You hadn’t recognized the scent nor the alpha who was speaking, and you had blamed the hedge between you for the boldness in your voice. If he couldn’t see you then he couldn’t determine whose charge you were in.

“A pissing contest?” He was coming close and you’d risen to your feet, still holding the book open to not lose your place, taking two steps for every three of his.

His scent reminded you of the early morning fog that sometimes swept across the ground in early fall, the dense clouds that were nothing more than air slipping through your fingers. This alpha’s scent was being pushed outward toward you and yet it hadn’t carried the overpowering or cringe-inducing pungency like so many other alphas.

This man’s scent was strong, it was an indication of the kind of alpha this man was and the power he heralded but there wasn’t an unlimited ego clinging to the edges.

“I suppose you find it crude.” You turned the corner taking a wide berth around the path you thought he would be taking, further entering the maze. “My mother is always telling me to mind my tongue.”

“I find it amusing.” You faltered, stopping dead when you registered another alphas scent infiltrating your nose, the adjacent power and potency as the second had been as alluring as the first.

They were integrated, engrained indicating that they were mates. The two alphas, both males, had a woven bond that was encased in metal, unbreakable and unwavering.

“I feel outnumbered.” You chimed, still feeling safe enough despite being caught with two alphas somewhere around you.

The two alphas hanging around in the garden hadn’t triggered your fight or flight instincts, their presence hadn’t made you feel as if you were being closed in on. You had almost felt more at ease with their presence here than without, and that security had your hindbrain scrambled. You didn’t know what to expect or anticipate with the two alphas, however, you didn’t immediately think you were in danger.

“Are you frightened?” The second had spoken, the second alpha’s voice as rich and suave as the first.

“Should I be?” You called out to them, their footsteps on stone coming almost in synch with your own as you turned another corner to head back to the entrance of the Lord’s manor. “Are you giving me a reason to be scared?”

The silence was pensive and it was oddly comforting, like being in the presence of an old friend that enjoyed the quietude as much as you had.

“Y/N!” The silence was golden until it was tarnished by the sound of your mother’s voice and the assault of her altered and artificial scent, the pungency irritating your nose. “Come here, now!”

The alphas had silenced themselves, even their footsteps had been stalled, they had resisted moving but you could still pinpoint their scents among the natural essence of the fauna.

“Mother, I was making myself invisible as you wanted. Out of sight and out of the minds of others.” You quipped, scurrying out of the maze-like garden straight to him.

She had put her hands on your arms and shook you once, her cathartic display of irritation with you as she dragged you behind her to the French doors leading to the manor was ritualistic at best. It was a common occurrence for your mother to be annoyed by your presence even if you were doing exactly what she wanted.

“Your brother is contending to court some noblemen’s daughters,” your mother looked upon you with disgust, her eyes narrowed as she studied the plain and simple dress you had worn, the contexture was meant to hide much of your body as possible, “and you…you could have a future as a fisherman’s wife.”

“Or his whore.” Your self-deprecating comment was one that you had heard many times over from your mother, father and brother.

As a woman and omega, who was neither delicate in size nor your composure, there was little hope for your future.

You were an omega who carried more weight than other women, you were an omega who was looked down upon because of your appearance and the manner in which you carried yourself. There were so many more omegas who were far more delicate and elegant than you, so many more omegas who were highly sought after.

“You should be lucky to get a single offer to be married and if you can’t find yourself a husband and mate, then you can consider yourself a common whore for anyone with a cock.” Your mother spoke lewdly, terribly detrimental to you as she yanked you out of the garden back into the manor.

The taste of fruit on your tongue was almost as delectable as the soft stroke of his fingers against your arm as he drew you toward the edge of the stream, the stop coming to a near end.

You had brushed your hand down the front of your dress and then took a step forward, the crunch of stones under your boots was the precursor to the splash of the water. You had stepped into the stream and reached down into the water, closing your hand around a small freshwater minnow, and when you had stood properly, you felt the steady hands of Bucky upon your hips.

“You caught a minnow with your bare hands,” he observed, pressing his chest against your back and dusting his lips against the shell of your ear, “how did you do that?”

“I spent a lot of my childhood, and adulthood, alone. I spent more time reading and running wild in the woods on the back half of the village behind my mother’s back.” You opened your hands watching the minnow in your palms for a moment before you bent back down and let it go free, watching the small fish swim away from you.

“You didn’t deserve any of the treatment inflicted upon you.” Ari had called from the far left, his hands brushing down the horses’ necks as they ate the small bushel of oats set before them. “You will never be treated like that again.”

“Why didn’t you ever find an omega before?” You questioned Ari and Bucky as you stepped out of the stream, shaking the ends of your skirt off, neither caring about the dirt that would cling to the ends or the nature of you willingly getting your hands on a fish in the way you had.

If your mother would have seen you, she would have struck you with her hand for causing you to embarrass yourself and her. She would’ve taken a few weeds to your backside despite being a grown woman, and an omega who could make her own decisions.

“Bucky had been stuck in the arena for longer than he wanted, and when he was out he had become a mercenary for hire earning himself the reputation of The Winter Soldier but with it had come certain hesitating perceptions.” Ari had stepped away from the horses and bent to retrieve the satchels that contained their tools.

“Not many omegas would willingly be happy living in the North with a man who had killed many before with his bare hands.”

“That seems like it would be less of a deterrent,” you hummed under your breath, studying the faint scars upon his hands and forearms, the signs of his successful career as a brute, “and more of an incentive.”

“We are glad we waited.” His hands felt rough and heavy against your cheeks as he cupped your flesh and tilted your head, his blue eyes studying and analyzing you with warmth. “You are the perfect omega.”

“You’re the only offer I would have received.” You stated, pulling away from Bucky when his gaze had become too intense, too captivating for you to hold without having your stomach flip end over end. “No one else was willing to put up with me.”

“Put up with you?” Ari’s gentility had taken a hard edge, his hands stalling during the process of him closing the top of the satchel.

His blue-green eyes were much darker than before, and the flare of his nostrils had you wondering if you had personally crossed a line. It wouldn’t have been the first time that you would have said something that angered those around you, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You had broken eye contact with Ari before he stood fully, and looked back over your shoulder toward Bucky. His eyes weren’t nearly as dark at the moment as Ari’s were and he hadn’t appeared to have taken such a stark offence to the claim as Ari had.

However, you had seen the subtle shake of his fingers as he continued to tie his hair behind his head, the thin leather strip holding Bucky’s dark brown and silver streaked hair out of his face.

“Put up with you?” Ari questioned again, the physical appearance of him now had sent a shiver, not out of fear but out of appreciation for this massive alpha who was standing straight and tall.

He, like Bucky, hadn’t appeared to hold any kind of disparaging ire toward you although it was clear that Ari in the basest possible manner had taken offence to your statement.

“It’s clear that you weren’t shown your true value and treated as well as you should have been dewdrop.” Ari had exhaled in a huff, his eyes still darkening despite his voice starting t even out and return to the honey-laced words you were getting used to.

His anger, his vehement ire was aimed directly toward everyone who had done you wrong, and Ari had taken offence for you.

“That’s all going to change,” Ari’s tone of voice had produced another shiver, another illusive surge of promise and pleasure to come, “you are ours now. You are our omega and we are going to show you how much you mean to us, how valuable and precious you are.”

Bucky had agreed with Ari, giving him a subtle and soft kiss on the lips before Bucky loaded the satchels and bags again. Bucky had communicated seamlessly with Ari, a synonymous effort to undo all the bitter and unrelenting toxicity that had been inflicted upon you.

You were no longer going to be treated like you were a problem. You were going to be treated like you were the missing piece in their universe, the one they knew they always needed.

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @daydreaminginthechaos @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @undecidedsworld @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @miss-rebel-without-applause

[aqueeriumwrites]

has anyone ever written a marvel/dc crossover fic with bucky x slade

cause i word vomited a fic idea for one into my ideas doc a while back and it's kinda my roman empire because BADASS GAY MERCENARIES (who are both disabled!!!) seems amazing but. it would be really long. the basic idea (i.e. the aforementioned word vomit) alone is almost 500 words. and the longest thing i've posted on ao3 was under 4k words. so, like, if anyone wants to co-write or cheer me on or smth, it would be much appreciated😭

[moeitsu]

Explaining the James Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Lore for the new fans :)

I made this as a little cheat sheet for all the new Logan/Wolverine fans, in case you’ve never seen the movies or read the comics. Hopefully it’ll help with your fanfics and understanding his character better <3

Logan is my favorite of the Marvel superhero’s, and he and I go way back….so far back that my Dad dressed up as Wolverine and I as Rogue for Halloween in 2006. So he holds a very special place in my heart.

Lore - Part 2  Wolverine Comics

If you’ve seen X-men Origins: Wolverine, I hate to break it to you, but that backstory is not canon to the X-men universe. The later movies really screwed up the timeline. So the information here is strictly from the comics.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Pre-Adamantium Binding:

His real name is James Howlett, ‘Logan’ is later used as an alias to distance himself from his past.

He was born sometime around 1880, in Alberta Canada.

He is the illegitimate son of Elizabeth Howlett and Thomas Logan. He grew up on the Howlett estate and believed John Howlett was his real father.

His mutant powers first appeared when he was a child. He has accelerated healing, heightened senses, and retractable bone claws.

The trigger was caused by Thomas Logan killing James Howlett. The overwhelming fear and anger made his power manifest, blinded with rage he kills Thomas.

As his biological father dies, he reveals to Logan that he is his true father. The event is deeply traumatizing, and Logan runs away from his family estate. His mother commits suicide shortly after.

Logan has a half brother known as Sabertooth (Victor Creed) who has similar powers to the Wolverine but is more ‘animalistic’

The details vary across the comics but the brothers are always seen as rivals. And often pitted against eachother.

Logan served in WWI, WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

He also served in a Canadian military force known as ‘Department H’ that specialized in superhuman affairs. (This was after the experiment, I’ll go into more detail later)

Sometime before the Weapon X program: On Earth-616, Logan had a wife (Itsu) and son in Japan where he was training at the time. They were killed by the Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes)

Weapon X Program - Adamantium Binding:

The Weapon X program was run by multiple people working in secret for the Canadian government. Originally beginning in 1845, their goal was to experiment on mutants and create their own super-soldiers.

Logan was deceived and manipulated into undergoing the Weapon X experiment. He did not consent to being a test subject.

For some reason the X-Men Origins movie makes it out to be that Logan willingly chose to undergo this process, only to later reveal that he was tricked into doing so.

Before being captured, he was still struggling with his identity, he was close to 100 years old at the time. His life was filled with violence and loss. Making him physically and mentally vulnerable.

He was a prime target for exploitation.

Part of the experiment was to completely erase his memories and replace them with false ones. This allowed them complete control over him.

This also made it difficult for him to recall how he ended up in the program to begin with.

I repeat: they completely wiped his memory. His whole identity was gone.

100 years of memories were gone.

The bonding process turned his entire skeleton and bone claws into indestructible metal.

Due to his regenerative nature, Logan was not given anesthetic or put under for the procedure. It was excruciatingly painful.

Logan worked as a mercenary for private military contractors. He took on these assignments without fully understanding their implications because of his fragmented memory.

Sometime later he became a member of X-Force, a private military unit (affiliated with the CIA) that dealt with incredibly violent operations.

The purpose of the project was to create an unstoppable killing machine. With their end goal being to erase his humanity all together. However Logan’s mental fortitude allowed him to resist the conditioning and make his escape before it was too late.

After escaping, Logan developed a mistrust with authority. And just people in general. He felt deeply betrayed by the Weapon X program. And he struggles with the fear of being used as a weapon.

The escape and aftermath of Weapon X:

After everything Logan went through, the intense trauma and confusion significantly impacted his actions and mindset.

He was left with extreme psychological damage, and behaved more as an animal than a man for the first few years of his freedom. Living in the wilderness of Canada.

Quite literally a feral man. He lost touch of his humanity. Embracing his animalistic abilities, turning him into an apex predator.

Logan has the ability to enter something called “Beserker Rage” which he becomes entirely driven by animalistic instinct. Turning him into an unstoppable force and exerting himself for very long periods of time.

Think of when you see him running on all fours…

Over time, Logan began to regain bits and pieces of his humanity. He was later discovered by Heather and James MacDonald Hudson who took him in and helped him recover physically and mentally.

(Logan actually fell in love with Heather, and James became his best friend. They were the closest thing he had to a family)

After he recovered, he was recruited by the Canadian governments ‘Department H’. They were responsible for a lot of his training and became a key member in Canada’s superhero team: Alpha Flight.

This is where he took on the code name “Wolverine”

His time with Alpha Flight was short lived. And soon he was approached by Charles Xavier, who was looking for mutants to join his X-Men. He recognized Logan’s potential and offered him a place on the team as well as the promise to help him regain his memory.

Logan accepted, and his time with the X-Men marked a critical and significant moment in his life. Under Xavier’s guidance he was able to rebuild his identity and gradually piece together his past. All while fighting for the rights of mutants.

Being part of the X-Men gave him a sense of purpose and direction. Although his main goal had always been to uncover what he had lost, which was himself. He still struggles with trust and relationships, but eventually forms strong bonds with the other X-men.

His past with Weapon X still haunts him. And he has vivid and terrible nightmares about what he had done and what was done to him.

I won’t go into detail about his time with the X-men because that varies a lot across the comics. Just know that he had a love-hate relationship with them, but he ultimately loved them in the end.

Some sad facts about Logan that actually haunt me:

Logan has outlived everyone he ever loved. Family, friends, even his own children. He is so so so lonely.

Immense amount of survivors guilt. He feels unworthy of the life he continues to live.

He suffers from chronic nightmares. Often waking up in a violent and panicked state.

Deep-seated fear of abandonment that goes all the way back to his early childhood. He isolates himself to protect himself from more pain.

Tons of self-loathing. He believes himself to be nothing more than a killer. He thinks he is unworthy of love and happiness.

In the “Old Man Logan” storyline, he is tricked into killing the entire X-Men team. This event haunts him for the rest of his life.

Logan had a long, unrequited love for Jean Gray. He has watched her die multiple times, and each time a piece of him dies with her. On one occasion, he even had to kill her himself.

When he succumbs to “beserker rage” he loses control of himself. And the aftermath horrifies him. He is even afraid of himself at times and one of the reasons why he distances himself from others.

Some happy/soft facts to make up for everything you just read:

Logan is incredibly fatherly at times, often taking younger mutants under his protection and guidance. He becomes a mentor to them and looks out for their well-being.

In one of the comics he takes a young girl (Jubilee) to the mall and followers her around carrying her bags. He loves doting on her and I find it so adorable.

He also teaches another mutant named Kitty how to dance.

In one mission he is tasked with taking care of an infant, Hope. And he is incredibly gentle and tender with her. Cradling her in his arms and being fiercely protective.

He has a deep love and connection with animals. Especially ones that have been mistreated or misunderstood.

Caring for an injured wolf, he nurses it back to health and releases it back into nature.

He also adopts a stray, abused dog at one point.

In one of the timelines, he funded and ran the ‘Jean Gray School for Higher Learning’ He was the headmaster, and was dedicated to protecting and teaching young mutants.

In one scene he literally makes pancakes for all the students. I love him so much.

His relationship with Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) is very brotherly. They share alot of respect and understanding for each other, and Nightcrawler often serves as Logan’s moral compass.

His happiest memories are when he was training in Japan. And he has a deep appreciation and admiration for the culture. Taking on the samurai code of honor, and respecting its discipline and humility.

His entire relationship with Laura Kinney (X-23). Essentially his daughter. Taking on a father-figure role for her.

In one of the comics he organizes a birthday party for her, knowing she never had one. He goes all out and it shows just how much he loves her.

Logan has a great sense of humor. Often dry and sardonic, he’s known for his quick wit and playful banter. Which adds a layer of warmth to his otherwise tough persona.

He is very fond of life’s simple pleasures. Which reflects his inner desire for peace and normalcy. He values the little things that make life enjoyable.

His numerous acts of kindness towards strangers. Logan is compassionate at heart.

He doesn’t comfort others with his words, but rather his presence. Logan has a very unique understanding of grief and tries to give others relief in knowing they aren’t alone.

WOW okay I wrote way too much. Tbh I actually cut a ton out of this but if anybody wants a part 2 I’d be happy to share more. Shoutout to my brother for helping me source all this with his comics lol.

If you read all this, you’re a real one. And I’m so glad we’re all witnessing the Logan Howlett Renaissance

[aquaticmercy]

Dangerous Game

Summary : Bucky Barnes is dating a trigger-happy antihero, and she has him wrapped around her finger. She’s just Bucky’s pretty girl, and he lets her get away with everything.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Violence. Blood. Cursing. Sexual References.

Requested by : anon

Word count : 1.9k

Note : This was a very interesting prompt to write to, and I hope I’ve done it justice. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

The fine rain splashed softly against the warehouse rooftop, a soothing backdrop to the mission that Bucky Barnes was on. The dim light flickered overhead, casting shadows across the grimy concrete floor. 

Bucky was crouched behind a stack of crates, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. He could hear the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter of the filthy men inside the building.

They were mercenaries that would sell their services to the highest bidder. They were the kind of low-life that made Bucky’s skin crawl. 

His mission was simple: infiltrate, gather intel, and get out. 

As always, he wasn't alone. 

You were by his side, a vision of chaos so beautifully wrapped in leather, sporting an unapologetic smile. 

You weren't an Avenger, and you would never be.

Sam had seen your… trigger happy tendencies. It unnerved him, uneased him. The thought that Bucky was dating you, sharing his life with you, was… interesting, to say the least.

Sam didn't say anything to his friend though, because he could see how much happier Bucky was with you. Sometimes he wondered if your tendency for violence made Bucky feel normal in comparison.

Maybe that was exactly what he needed out of a relationship. 

But it didn’t matter if Sam liked you or not. You didn’t need to be an Avenger. You didn’t want to be an Avenger. You thrived in the shadows, as a vigilante with an ever growing lust for destruction. You had your own friends, a tight knit circle that included the likes of Wade Wilson and Frank Castle.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, your voice low but filled with playful mischief. You brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, looking over your shoulder at Bucky with a happy glint in your eye. A little too happy for what you’re about to do. “You keep watch while I have a little fun.”

Bucky’s heart raced. “Be careful.”

You giggled at his adorable worry. Looking out for your wellbeing, that’s cute.  

Bucky knew you didn’t take any threats, or any enemy seriously. With a wink, you slipped through the doorway, leaving him to wonder just how far you would go to get the job done.

Inside, the mercenaries lounged, oblivious to the danger creeping closer. You moved like a shadow before drawing the attention of the men with your bold confidence. You were bathing the thrill of the hunt, and they were your prey. 

As Bucky waited, he leaned against the crates, thoughts drifting to the strange affection he had for you. You were a puzzler. A beautiful, deadly enigma. 

On the surface, you wore a facade of charming quirkiness, a blend of laughter and warmth that captivated everyone around you. You would go to your favourite bookshop weekly, making fast friends with everyone who worked there. You have always tipped generously in your favourite coffee shop. You bought boxes and boxes of pizza every once in a while to feed the homeless around the city. You baked cookies for your neighbour’s kids regularly. 

Beneath that, however, lurked a dark side. You had a craving for violence that made even Bucky, a man with a history of bloodshed, question your sanity. 

Sure, you had a very strong moral code, stronger than even the most reinforced vibranium. 

You would never harm an innocent soul, not even in the heat of battle. Every life you took was carefully considered, weighed against the countless innocent lives snuffed out by those mercenaries and criminals you hunted. It was the reason you had earned his admiration.

After all, when he first met you, you were so determined to slit his throat and hack him into pieces.

Back then, you had heard about The Winter Soldier, the Hydra agent who had killed with no remorse. When you tracked him down that day, he was nothing more than another target you needed to get rid of.

Your mind was set, your instincts primed to take him out. But as you confronted him, something shifted in the air. He had given you a fight, the first time anyone could even go toe to toe with you in a while.

Somehow, you were not beyond reason.

He explained himself, sharing the horrific truths of his past—the mind control, the manipulations, the guilt that haunted him. 

In that moment, the unyielding resolve that had guided you faltered. You realised that Bucky was not the monster that his files had painted him out to be; he was a man seeking redemption for sins he didn’t choose.

Your moral code did not let you kill him.

Still, that day, as you looked into his blue eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of attraction. With your unfiltered, charming, bluntness you had said, “You’re hot. How about we grab a drink sometime?”

Bucky hadn’t known why he said yes that day, but now he can confidently say that was the best decision he had ever made.

He just loved you. God, did he love you. Even as he stood there, knowing he should be concerned about how you go about dealing out your brand of justice, all he could think of was how you made him feel alive again.

A crash interrupted his thoughts. He heard the sound of furniture against the wall, followed by a series of panicked shouts. Bucky’s heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins. He peeked through the doorway, watching as you unleashed brute force at the mercenaries, your movements a blur of lethal elegance. 

You were toying with them, a wicked smile plastered on your face as you dealt with them one by one.

“Hey, Bucky!” you called, laughter in your voice. “I’m on a roll!”

“Keep it contained!” he yelled back. A part of him wanted to join in, to keep you safe, to protect you, but he knew that you were more than fine on your own. 

Besides, you were unpredictable enough without him diving in and interrupting your method.

Bucky once again turned his ear to the entrance. He could hear the unmistakable sounds of punches landing, blades slicing, screams muffled by the loud creaking sound of breaking bones, and the violent thuds of bodies hitting the ground. It was a brutal symphony, and he did not know if it thrilled or terrified him.

As time passed, the shouts and laughter of your madness echoed through the building. Finally, it went silent. He took a deep breath and prepared to step inside.

Had you really taken out everyone in there? 

As he stepped through the doorway, his lungs felt like it was about to collapse. The sight before him was fucking mesmerising and horrifying. The twenty mercenaries lay scattered across the room, their bodies twisted and broken. Blood pooled beneath them, the once-quiet warehouse now a scene of carnage. 

You stood in the centre, breathing heavily, your bloody sword in hand. You wore a triumphant grin that made your eyes sparkle with sheer delight. You were like a painter showcasing your masterpiece.

Bucky’s heart raced—not entirely out of fear, but something more complicated. 

“Bucky! Look!” You spun around, beaming with joy, your leather jacket blood red with the remnants of your work. “I cleared the place out!”

“What the fuck…” Bucky whispered, staring in disbelief at the scene. The chaos, the brutality—it was all so casual for you, just another Wednesday night. “You killed them all?”

You giggled, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most mundane task in the world. “You said we needed intel, and I figured this was a more efficient method. We can now just raid their files! Plus,” you added, your tone light and teasing, “they were so rude. Did you hear what they called me?”

Bucky shook his head, trying to process what had just happened. It was shocking, and yet, he couldn't deny the flutter in his chest as he watched you admiring the efficiency of your work. Your beauty had always been magnetic, but this? This was something else entirely.

And somehow, it only made him want you more.

“Insane,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You’re insane.”

You laughed again, and it was bright and intoxicating. You filled the dim warehouse with a sense of warmth. “I prefer ‘eccentric,’ actually.”

Bucky shook his head. His heart was racing as he moved closer to you, trying not to step at a severed hand or a disembodied head. “You’re not afraid of any of this?”

“Of what? Killing them?” You shrugged, stepping over a fallen body with ease. “They had it coming the second they killed the little girl down the road. You know that.” 

This mission was brought to your attention when this group of mercs had shot an heiress of a financial empire. She was only six years old, and she had bled to death in the middle of the night in her bedroom, alone and scared. 

He should’ve known by the look in your eyes that day that you were going to make them pay for it.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of admiration and dread. “I didn’t realise just how much of a loose cannon you really are.”

Your smile softened, and you took a step toward him. You sheathed your sword back. “I’m your loose cannon.”

“You’ve got to be more careful,” he said, but could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips. You were reckless, undeniably dangerous, but there was something about you that held him captive. Still, his voice did not waver. “This isn’t a game, doll.”

“Oh, Bucky, but it is!” You laughed, the sound infectious. “Life is a game, and we’re just playing by our own rules. Besides, they’re bad guys. No one will miss them, anyway.”

Your logic echoed in his mind, making him realise just how twisted you truly were. He wondered, for a second, if this act was a coping mechanism to offload all the killing you thought you had to do. 

“I swear, one of these days, I’m going to have to rein you in,” he said, even though you could hear the affection lacing his words. Despite the madness, despite the horror of the moment, he found himself smiling at you, drawn by the way you lit up even the darkest of situations. “But maybe not today.”

You stepped back, feigning a dramatic sigh. “You sure you don’t want to keep me on a leash, Sarge?” 

“Maybe,” Bucky had a sly, flirty grin on his face. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “but not here.”

“Oh?” You asked, a wild gleam in your eye. 

His touch crumbled under your gaze, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief and seduction. You were his pretty girl, no matter how bloody and bruised. 

You closed the distance, your lips crashing against his in a heated kiss that sent fireworks exploding behind his eyes. Bucky’s hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as he melted into your arms. You tasted like exhilaration and danger, a combination that left him breathless.

You activated something so primal in him, and he couldn’t help but moan against your lips, losing himself in the taste of you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured when he finally pulled away, his breath hot against your ear as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of blood, sweat, and perfume.

“I know.” You giggled, playful as ever. “And you’re my handsome soldier, aren’t you?”

“Always,” he replied, the word spilling from his lips without a fraction of a thought. 

You had him so hopelessly wrapped around your little finger, and he was more than willing to let you lead him wherever your heart desired. 

And that was a dangerous game.

-end

[avecra]

Dosed

summary: When you are laced with a deadly pathogen, the team finds themselves working endlessly to find a cure. Only it might not be enough.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6.7k

warnings: canon level violence, illness symptoms (fever, cough, vomiting), angst on top of angst with a happy ending, bucky goes through many emotions

a/n: hi hello it has been a hot minute since I have been active im so sorry :( i had a lot of personal issues to deal with but now im hoping to be a little bit more active and post more stories :)

You could feel the heavy rumble of the jet as it landed on the muddy grounds. An overcast covered the sky and emitted a soft grey through the thick glass of the display of the jet, the light pitter of rain tapped against the window. 

Bucky’s gentle touch stole your gaze from the window to the super soldier, his fingers wrapped around the Kevlar vest and he began to tighten the straps around your shoulders, pulling them into place. 

“Do I really have to wear this? Steve said that the building is supposed to be empty,” you said, trailing a finger along the front of your vest, over the stitched ‘Barnes’ that sat over the thick fabric. 

“Yes, honey,” Bucky chuckled, tightening the straps over your back. “Just cause Steve says it’s empty doesn’t mean it is. I can’t risk anything happening to you, therefore you get to wear my vest.” He winked at you and tightened the last strap across your abdomen. “Gotta keep my girl safe, now don’t I?”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, continued to watch him strap a few guns and knives to his body. Exhaling a tense sigh, you ran your sweaty palms down the side of your tactical uniform, Bucky noticed. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. “I’m not exactly equipped for these types of missions, I’m just a little nervous.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened when he heard the small crack in your voice, his hands encased around yours and he tenderly pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. “I’m gonna be right by your side the entire time.”

You bobbed your head, taking in a deep breath as Bucky gently slid a gun into the holster on your thigh. “But just in case.”

The two of you had been assigned to track down a lone mercenary in the middle of western Canada. The stormy weather had made it difficult for the jet sensors to get a read on the building that sat in a nearly empty forest.

A mercenary hacker under the name Roman Donovan had been on Tony Stark’s radar for quite some time, after noticing the many sudden security pop ups, indicating that Donovan had smothered his way into Tony’s tech. Both Steve and Tony had been working relentlessly to find a position on him, until a sudden location popped up. 

You had your doubts, whether you were the best candidate for this mission, but Steve had reassured you with your technical and computer knowledge that you were the perfect fit.  A squeeze to your hand reminded you that Bucky would be with you every step of the way.

With a nod from you, Bucky placed the small comm device into your ear, tapping it a few times so he could hear the breaths that left your lips. He slipped one into his ear as well, tapping it a few times until he could catch the chatter of the two agents in the cockpit of the jet. 

“Prescott and Logan, stand by. We’ll radio you in case we need backup,” Bucky announced, pressing the button that opened up the ramp of the jet. He turned to you with a soft, comforting smile. “It’s just a simple extraction of files,” he reminded with a gentle hand to your back. “Ready?”

A final nod of your head, you looked at him. Ready.”

---

The building had been vacant this far, Bucky had led the both of you to the control room where you rapidly typed on the main computer. Bucky stood by the door, sending cautious glances over his shoulder every few seconds to survey the dark hallway. 

“I’m almost done,” you called out to him, fingers dancing across the keyboard, desperately pushing into the numbers and letters faster. “It had more firewalls than I expected.”

Bucky glanced over in your direction, a frown taking over his features. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily. Just means this guy wants to keep people like me out of his stuff,” you mumbled. Bucky chuckled under his breath.

A few more clicks to the keyboard, you powered off the system and the flash drive ejected  out of the main computer. Stepping back, you watched the monitors as the files slowly disappeared from folders and main screen savers, until all the screens went dark. 

“I think I got it,” you muttered, eyes wide as they focused on the screens. The flash drive began to flicker a blue color, indicating that the files had transferred successfully without a trace of Stark technology.

The loud slamming of a door alerted Bucky, as he raised his rifle up, pointing towards the sudden sound. You pocketed the flash drive and raised your head at the sudden sound, eyes filled with confusion as they flickered over to Bucky’s alarmed blue ones.

“Get behind me,” You quickly made your way over to him and his hand immediately darted out to grab your wrist. Though you could feel the tension riding off his body in waves, his hold on your arm was gentle. “Stay low.”

You nodded and grasped the back of Bucky’s tactical vest, fisting the thick fabric. With a cautious foot forwards, Bucky stepped out into the hallway, taking slow, steady steps into the dimly lit corridor. 

Your hands made their way from the fabric of his shirt to his vibranium hand, and you gripped as tightly as you could, in a way to ground you. He couldn’t feel the tight pressure, but he could feel the weight of your hand in his. 

The two of you stealthily made your way through sets of hallways and stairwells, inching closer and closer to the doorway, until the loud slamming of boots against the tile floors halted you in your stance. Fear corrupted every fiber of your body, you couldn’t take your eyes off the panicked look in Bucky’s blue ones. 

You felt Bucky push you away behind him, before a sudden force knocked him to the ground, grunts passed through his lips. 

“Y/n, run!”

Not looking back, you trusted Bucky enough to know that he would make it out unscathed, with only a few scrapes and bruises. You, however, were not a field trained agent, with little  combat knowledge. You bolted the other direction, on the way to warn the two agents standing by in the jet.

“I need backup! Logan, Prescott, to the northeast side of the building, now!”

It wasn’t until you felt the pull of your vest and the weight of someone did you register your head slam against the ground, rather harshly. A strangled cry left your lips when you felt a needle puncture your skin, just at the conjunction between your shoulder and neck. 

His hand pressed down on your neck harshly, cutting off your air supply, but you were frozen in fear - he head injected something into your skin. You did not find the strength to fight back.

Fear paralyzed every fiber of your body.

Grunts and strangled screams were heard, you didn’t know if it came from you, but suddenly the weight was lifted off you, though you registered nothing of it. A few greedy breaths of fresh air. The pulsing of your heartbeat rang out in your ear, chiming and pudding against your skull. You laid frozen.

“Y/n is down, I have Donovan apprehended. I need backup, please!” Bucky spoke into the comms a moment later as he threw the hacker on his stomach and pinned his wrists behind his back. He was tempted to sap his wrist, but he held back. 

“Roman Donovan, you are a hard son of a bitch to find,” Bucky growled in his ear, reaching into his vest to pull out a pair of wrist restraints, tightening them to Donovan’s wrist. The man yelled in pain and discomfort.

Bucky glanced over to you, eyes softening when he took in your fragile form on the concrete. You just laid there, almost lifeless, but once Bucky saw the rise and fall of your chest, only a little relief came to him. It quickly rushed away when blue eyes focused on the empty syringe near your foot. 

“There’s a lot more pain coming your way. What did you inject her with?” Bucky yelled viciously, grabbing Donovan roughly by the hair. But the man simply let out a dark chuckle, eyes narrowing on you. The way weak coughs passed through your lips, the way you burrowed deeper into yourself.

“I know your weak spots, James Barnes.” was all he said. 

The hurried footsteps of Prescott and Logan reached his ears and Bucky abruptly stood up  and watched the two agents haul the mercenary to his feet and slam him against the wall, patting him, finding a gun strapped to his back and a small grenade. 

“Secure him to the panel near the bay doors. Bastard can fly out for all I care.” 

Bucky wasted no time in making his way over to you. A gentle hand soothed comforting circles up and down your arm, gently coaxing you and Bucky gently lifted you up in his arms and leant you against the wall, concerned as your head lolled back. 

“Baby, are you okay?” His panicked gaze flickered from the bleeding gash on your temple, to the light bruising around your neck, the small dot of blood at the conjunction between your neck and shoulder. He sighed, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. “Y/n, answer me baby, what hurts?”

Your eyes were clenched shut and you brought a shaky hand to rest over Bucky’s, and you lifted your gaze to meet his worried blue ones. “I’m okay… I think.”

“You think?” Bucky asked, running a hand over your hair. 

“I-I don’t know, I feel fuzzy,” you mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall. 

Taking slow, deep breaths, you felt Bucky rub slow, soothing circles up and down your thigh. There was a buzzing sensation circling throughout your temples, down to your cheeks, along our jaw until it spread through the rest of your body. 

“Deep breaths in and out, baby,” Bucky whispered soothingly, leaning down to kiss your knee.

But then, in a moment or two, you felt it suddenly disperse. As if the wave of numbness rid itself out of your body. You allowed Bucky to help you to your feet, brushing his hands over the front of the vest before making sure you had no further injuries. 

“We’ll check you over at the compound,” Bucky said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you down the hall, following the two agents in suit. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

Bucky watched helplessly as he and Steve watched as Dr. Cho and her team scanned over your body. He couldn’t imagine how confused and scared you were, hands gripping the sheets. Your first field mission had been a complete disaster. Bruce walked in, the used syringe in an examination tube. 

“What do you think he injected her with?” Bucky asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

“It’s weird,” Bruce began, handing the folder over to Bucky. 

“I pushed it through a scanner, to see if I could find any sort of answer to what this is. All tests come back negative for a virus or disease. Has she had any of her symptoms progress on the way home?”

Bucky shook his head, “No, she’s just been… frozen, paralyzed almost. He has injected her with something; I saw the blood on her neck and it seemed like he had tried to… kill her or something.”

“You think he would?”

“Why else would he press his fucking hand over her throat?”

“That, I am not sure. So unless she starts to show signs of some sort of sickness, I unfortunately have no answers. I’ll check in with Tony, see if he has any answers. I’ll keep you guys updated.”

“Thanks, Bruce.” Bucky sighed, watching as the doctor left. He opened the file, reading over the diagnosis levels. “I still don’t get it.”

Steve hummed, taking the file out of his hand. 

“The only thing he said to me was ‘I know your weak spots’ and then called me out by name. But I have never come into contact with this guy, not even as the Winter Soldier. The dude is early twenties and lived with his grandma in east Maryland up until two years ago, living in some studio in Princeton up in Jersey. How the hell did he end up in Canada?”

“That doesn’t track at all. Unless he has dug up on all of us. He probably just wanted to get you by surprise.” Steve said. “Real name is Benjamin Croot. 24 years old.”

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho’s voice broke through on the intercom. “She is asking for you.”

Bucky moved faster than he could process. He rushed through the doors and you turned your head at the sound of his boots. 

“Is she okay? She’s not hurt or anything?” Worried questions spewed out, his hands came to grip yours as tight without hurting you. He brushed his hand over your warm, sweaty forehead. “She’s warm.”

Dr. Cho nodded. “My team ran all the tests imaginable for this certain… situation. And everything came back negative, which worries me. If what Y/n described is true, then he must have injected her with something that is lethal or close to being lethal.

“She said to have felt numb, fuzzy almost. Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. But what I don’t get is that I could not find a single trace of.. well anything really.”

“Dr. Banner doesn’t have an answer either, though he’s checking in with Stark as we speak.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “What should we do? Keep her here?”

The woman sighed, pieces of her hair falling from the neat bun. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Part of me wants to keep her in the medical wing, just in case, but her stats are all normal, though her temperature is abnormally high.”

“How high?”

She flipped open the chart. You hadn’t really been present in the time either of them were talking. You were just so tired. Physically and mentally. 

“The last time I took it, her temperature was sitting at about 100.5, which isn’t that bad, but it’s not great either. So, I would advise to just rest for the night, and when she wakes up we will run a couple more tests, see if anything has changed.”

Bucky nodded, squeezing your hand as the doctor excused herself. 

“Whatcha thinkin’, sweetheart?” Bucky sat on the edge of the cot, brushing hair away from your eyes. 

“Tired.” He could tell your energy was scarce.

“Let’s go to bed then, hm.”

His movements started before you even had the chance to reply. As gently as he could, he slid his arms around your waist and shoulders and helped you up to your feet. The two of you made your way from the medical bay to the residential wing, to yours and Bucky’s shared room.

“Don’t you have the interrogation to do?” you mumbled, watching his features contort when he pressed his thumb against the scanner and led you into the room. In your fuzzy mind, you barely registered Bucky’s touch as he gently peeled your uniform off and slid your pajamas on.

“I’ll do it tomorrow. Besides it’s late, sweetheart and I think I speak for the both of us when I say it’s been a long day,” He gently eased you onto the bed, gently covering your form with a blanket. 

A shiver racked through you and Bucky watched with a concerned look as you tightened the blanket around your shoulders. He flicked off the lights and crawled into bed next to and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You faintly nodded and relaxed into his hold, feeling his hands run smoothly up and down your arms. The faint glow of the television set and the low volume did nothing to tear you from your due slumber, though you faintly felt the coolness of Bucky’s appendage running over your hair before you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

---

Sweat coated every part of your body as you woke up with a sharp gasp of air. 

Pounding temples, you peeled your eyes open and sat up; the faint glow of the TV caught your eye. The movie Bucky played had finished and had been playing in an endless loop. 

The clock on your nightstand read 2:07am, you reached for the cup of water and took slow sips, barely and faintly registering the sounds of Bucky’s light snores. 

You felt the nausea before anything else. It ran from your stomach up to your chest and you clamped a hand over your mouth, threw off the covers and made a beeline for the bathroom. 

That was until a wave of dizziness hit you and your knees buckled. Vision tunneling, you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms that wrapped around your waist before you could touch the carpet. I’ve got you, a tired voice murmured, but your hazy mind didn’t hear the quiet mutter.

The warmth of Bucky’s chest touched your heated back as he sped to the bathroom, flicked on the light and watched helplessly as you crashed to your knees and emptied what was in your stomach into the toilet. 

Bucky kneeled behind you and grasped your hair in one hand and rubbed soothing circles along your back. He felt you slacken in his arms, head resting back against his shoulder and when he pressed his palm flat against your forehead, he almost hissed at the radiating heat.

“You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart,” His wide blue eyes darted to your half-lidded ones, cerulean darting over your sweaty, clammy skin. 

“I don’t feel good.” you croaked. 

It hit him in one, big wave as he took over your tattered form. The confusion, the fatigue, to your spiked fever, Something wasn’t right, considering the fact that you rarely felt under the weather.

Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. Cho’s voice rang in his voice

Weakly, you flushed the toilet and leaned back into Bucky. Shivers racked through your body and Bucky peeled your shirt off your shoulder to see a dark blooming bruise where Donovan had injected the needle. 

“FRIDAY, wake Steve and Dr. Cho. Tell them to meet me in the medical wing,” Bucky called for the AI and slipped his hand under your back and knees and lifted you up against his chest. 

You jolted slightly, dizziness clouding your mind as Bucky stood up. You were limp in his arms, like jell-o.

The cool air of the hallway felt like a slap in the face, you pressed your cheek into the warmth of Bucky. A low whine passed through your lips and Bucky ran his thumb just below the back of your knee. 

“Buck,” Steve called, eyes widening as they fell on your shivering form. “What happened?”

But Bucky didn’t stop his movements, he spared a glance to Steve and kept heading towards the direction of the medical bay. Steve followed Bucky’s fast pace, quickly matching his speed.

“Her temperature is too high,” Bucky said, glancing over at his friend. “When we checked into the medbay, Cho noticed that her temperature was a little higher than normal, but when she got up a couple minutes ago, she was burning hot.”

A slick sheet of sweat coated your forehead, Steve noticed, and how small tremors racked through your body every so often. His eyes fell to the darkening bruise on your shoulder, Bucky caught his eye. 

“I think she was laced with something.”

Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt and Bucky looked down, continuing his trek to the medical wing with Steve hot on his tail. You could feel the rapid thumping of Bucky’s heartbeat as you weakly bunched his shirt in your fist.

“Laced? Laced with what?” Steve questioned as he rounded the corner, eyes locking onto Cho’s at the end of the hall.

Bucky looked down at you, clammy skin, eyes barely open, though you kept a strong grip on his shirt. “I don’t know.”

Everything was hazy the moment Bucky set you down on the hospital bed. Though sweat coated nearly every inch of your body, shivers racked through your body relentlessly. It was sweltering and freezing simultaneously. 

Nurses rushed around you, obstructing Bucky’s view from you, one of them placed a cannula just under your nose, an IV into your arm. The thought of more needles sinking into your skin made you sick. 

The last time someone used a needle on you, he was malicious as he jammed the needle into neck harshly. The memory brought nothing but fear to you. 

You were hot. Uncomfortable. The pain in your head was nearly unbearable.

“Bucky,” you called out, only it came out more of a whimper. “W-where’s Bucky?”

Metal clamped gently on your hand, the other hand coming to smoothly brush your sweaty hair back. “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” 

“It… it hurts,” Bucky watched as another nurse attempted to put another needle through your skin, he noticed the subtle shaking of your head, the whimpers.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked with a sharp glare, it melted away when he looked over at you. “What is it, baby? What hurts?”

“My head.”

Worried eyes wandered over to Cho’s as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Sergeant Barnes, I understand you want to offer her comfort, but I can assure she is in good hands with my team.” 

Bucky nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. His finger trailed over your forehead gently, and when he saw Steve and Sam in his peripherals, he sighed to himself. “I’ll check up on you later, sweet girl. I have something to take care of.”

You nodded drowsily, the dizziness taking control. 

Bucky reluctantly moved away from your bedside to his two closest friends, solemn looks on their faces. Sam kept his eyes on you, watching as the nurses took your temperature.

“How is she?” he asked. Bucky kept his eye on you the entire time, watching your tired eyes start to close. 

“It’s not looking good,” Bucky sighed. “Her temperature is extremely high, nausea, light-headed and dizziness. Whatever this bastard did to her, he has to deal with me now.”

“He’s downstairs, whenever you’re ready.” Steve said, his eyes laying on your frail body. “It is 2 in the morning and one of my teammates is lying on a hospital bed with a fever of over 100 degrees and a migraine that’s probably killing her. Let’s get this over with.”

---

Roman Donovan sat in a cold, bright room, hands cuffed to the tables with two SHIELD agents armed standing at the entrance. A smug smirk sat on his face as he fidgeted with his fingers. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening. 

“Well, if it isn’t the mighty Winter Soldier, what a traitor you are to your own country, huh? I mean, working for the people who you literally fought against-” Sam walked behind him and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his muscles. 

“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen to me. What did you do to her?”  

Donovan chuckled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Bucky shook his head, vibranium fist clenched. 

“You know, Roman, this guy isn’t too fond of repeating himself. Especially to arrogant assholes like you.”

“What did you do to her, Donovan?” Bucky was strangely calm.. “You know the woman you attacked earlier, the one whose throat you almost crushed after you injected her with drugs? She’s got three degrees in chemistry, computer engineering and computer science, so I get why you, a man of your personality, would go after someone who is not strong enough to put up a fight against you.” 

Steve looked on through the window, phone pinging. He pulled it out, the text from Natasha sent dread through himself. 

Temperature over 105, tests coming back positive for some type of influenza. Cho is really worried. Not looking too good for her.

“Shit.”

He went on and walked into the room, leaning over to where Sam stood. 

“So aggressive, James. And for what reason?”

Sam chuckled, crossing his arms. “If you think this is aggressive, you’re in for a ride.”

“I’m gonna ask one more time, and if I don’t get an answer, that means you’re straight up out of luck.” Bucky leaned forward, black and gold vibranium reached for the chain of his restraints and pulled him down, causing Donovan to hit his head. “What did you inject her with?”

The man tilted his head, blood dripping down his cheek. “What makes you think I injected her with anything?” he cockily sneered. “I thought all the Avengers were required to be knowledgeable in the field, cause let me tell you, Sergeant, that little girlfriend of yours is such an easy target.” 

Steve nudged Sam, leaning his phone towards his eyeline, showing the text message. Sam felt a pang of worry settle deep in his stomach, sharing a worried glance with him. 

There wasn’t much time left for you. 

Steve stepped forward, pulling Bucky aside to show him the text message. 

Blue eyes raked over the words he had been dreading the most. "Not looking too good for her.”

“Well Donovan, I want my answer.”

The man smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”

Bucky’s left hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Donovan’s hair and slammed his head against the metal desk one time only, though it was enough to break the man’s nose. Screams of pain resounded in the small but soundproof room. 

“No one’s gonna hear you, Donovan! Those guys with the big ass guns? They’re not gonna help you either. Not when one of their own is about to die in this building. And so help me, Benjamin,” Bucky sneered into his ear, the man’s eyes wide with fear, “if she dies under your hand, there is nothing on the green earth that is going to stop me from tearing you apart. I’m gonna ask one more time, what did you inject her with?”

“A deadly pathogen! It’s a pathogen that kills its hosts within 24 hours of it being administered.”

Bucky’s eyes glanced at the clock. 2:58 AM. It was a late night mission, the jet had landed in Canada at 7:45 PM. Meaning you had to have been injected with it at 8:00 or so. Meaning six hours had already passed, he had eighteen hours left. You had eighteen hours left.

“Did you know adults that experience fevers that go over 105 degrees can run into complications causing serious implications of brain damage,” Sam blurted out. “means you’re in the dog house if we lose her. And ain’t a single one of us is gonna stop that mean.”

“Is there an antidote for it?” 

Donovan nodded. Bucky slammed a pen and a notepad down on the table, causing the man to jump in fear. “I suggest you better start writing it down. Now you get to deal with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Better start writing.”

Eighteen hours would go by quickly. 

---

“Sergeant, it’s not looking good for her,” Dr. Cho said, voice breaking slightly. “This virus that she’s fighting, it’s too strong.”

Bucky looked through the window, heart shattering as his blue eyes fell on the breathing mask they covered your mouth with, the tubes that kept you hydrated. You looked so… lifeless. Natasha sat by your side, her hand gripping your wrist, though you were so out of it, eyes barely open.

“He injected her with some sort of influenza. He knows the antidote, but he has less than eighteen hours.”

She noticed the worried look in his eyes. 

“She was constantly asking for you. Even in a state of being delirious, she was still calling for you. Natasha was able to calm her down.”

The soldier gulped. “Is… is she going to die?” 

For a moment, Dr. Cho couldn’t answer. She didn’t know the probability of the antidote being made on time. 

“James, I cannot answer that. But what I can say is that I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. She’s a fighter.” With that, she excused herself. Bucky stood still for a moment before pushing the door open.

The sounds of your heart monitor and the sounds of oxygen traveling through the tubes filled the room. Natasha’s emerald eyes met Bucky’s, a small smile presented on her face. 

“Any updates yet?” she asked, but it fell on deaf ears as Bucky kneeled at your bedside, grasping your limp hand tightly in his. 

The amount of pain that swirled in his mind was almost too unbearable. Your eyes met his, though you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Tears welled in your eyes as they rushed down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, my love. I am right here.” His voice was above a whisper and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Tony and Bruce are gonna find a cure for you, honey. I promise. It’ll all be okay.” He felt you weakly try to grasp his hand back, but the action alone made you more tired. 

“I love you so much, baby. Words can’t comprehend my love for you. I want you to know that,” Tears welled in his own eyes, his hands reached up to cradle your cheek. You leaned into him. “I love you.”

Your skin was so warm under his touch. His eyes read over the stats on the open chart, seeing your temperature rise every hour. 

“She was injected with some sort of influenza. Tony and Bruce are working right now.” 

“Did you find anything else?”

Bucky kissed your hand, gently guiding your head back on the pillows. “Son of a bitch has the antidote. Had to break his nose just to get him to spill it out.” 

Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with her and I’ll alert you guys if anything changes. Just try to hurry.”

Bucky nodded and leaned down, hugging your frail, weakened body and pressed a kiss against your chapped lips. “I love you, Y/n. I’m gonna fix this.”

He did not spare Natasha a glance as he stormed out of the medical wing, boots stomping with every step he took. Long strides took him to the end of the hall, where the elevator was.

“FRIDAY, where is Stark and Banner?”

“Both are in Mr. Stark’s lab. Shall I notify them that you are coming?”

“Tell them I have a stop to make first.” Bucky slammed the button to the interrogation level. “ I’m coming with the antidote.”

---

Donovan jumped in his seat when the doors opened, revealing the shadow of Bucky’s figure. A knife sat in his hand. The prisoner visibly shivered. 

“You know what I’m here for, Donovan.” 

“Come on, man! It hasn’t even been-”

The knife that was once held in Bucky’s hand was now lodged into metal table, an inch away from Donovan’s finger. 

“You’re fucking crazy!” 

“What happened to the tough guy act, huh? You wanted to act all big and bad up in Canada. Why the sudden change of heart?” Bucky taunted him, walking closer to the pad of paper that had been scribbled on, step by step, three pages, front and back. “Remember, you’re targeting my weak spot.”

He seemed ashamed, guilty almost. But it wasn’t because your life was in jeopardy. It was because he was caught, with no one left to save him. 

“You know, you’re already facing five counts of criminal charges of unauthorized access into government systems, you wanna add a murder charge to that? Assault with intent to cause bodily harm? That sounds like fifty years to me, that is with just the unauthorized access charges.” Bucky sat down across from him. “And if this,” he held up the paper, “isn’t true or it doesn’t cure her, you’re facing a very serious murder charge of a federal agent.”

“You’re nothing but a coward, Benjamin Croot. Tough guy act falls the minute you’re faced against someone who overpowers you. You’re gonna rot in that prison for the rest of your life.”  

---

It was morning.

The sun had risen fully. 

10:47 AM

Tony and Bruce had been hard at work, trying to figure out the antidote. It was nearing the afternoon, and they had been at it since nearly four in the morning. But neither were giving up. Not when your life was on a timer.

Bucky had dropped off the paper before going back up to the medical bay, spending his time with you. He hadn’t slept since he first woke up, his groggy eyes immediately landing on you staggering to the bathroom.

He laid in the small bed with you, balancing himself on the edge, giving you all the space. He had laid a damp rag over your forehead, in hope to cool you down a little. Tremors racked through your body suddenly, Bucky jolted. 

You laid still for a moment, eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed. An unpleasant gurgling sound came from you, body jerking slightly. Bucky’s eyes widened and he pressed the call button repeatedly before running to your side. You weren’t awake, you were warmer than before, heartbeat rapid as the monitor started to go crazy, alarms blasting. Dr. Cho and a couple nurses suddenly bursted into the room, eyes wide

“What’s wrong? What’s happening to her?” Bucky cried out, helplessly watching as they pushed you on the side. 

“She’s choking. Her lungs are filling up with fluids, and if we don't drain it, she will lose her.” Bucky’s eyes filled with horror. “Sergeant Barnes, I know you’re concerned for her health and safety, but I need my full attention if I’m gonna save her. Please.”

Bucky wordlessly nodded, his eyes fixated on your body, your face. 

Eyes closed.

Pale skin.

Lifeless, almost. 

The monitor flatlined. Bucky was pushed out of the room. Sheets pulled around your bed as voices screamed and yelled, though it was all distorted. 

“Bucky?” He turned to Sam, tears spilled over his cheeks. 

“She’s…” A cry got caught in his throat. “she’s flatlining.”

Chocolate eyes widened. 

“I need to find Tony and Bruce.”

Sam loved you like a sister. The two of you had always been close, ever since you joined the team. And when Sam laid eyes on you, defibrillator pads pressed on the exposed skin of your chest, head laid back, a knife twisted into his heart. 

Neither men didn’t move a muscle until the flatline changed to a faint beeping. 

---

“Please tell me you’re somewhat close to putting an antidote together.” Bucky and Sam pushed through the doors. Tony looked up, “How is she?”

“She’s running out of time, she flatlined for a minute,” Bucky rambled out. “Please, Tony. What do you have so far?”

“It’s almost done, I think. We followed every single one of the steps, used past remedies that have helped even Thor himself from a virus. But if this guys even altered one of these steps-”

“He’ll have to face me then.” Bucky finished. “Is it ready?” Tony nodded, though he had a look of hesitancy. “What is it?”

Tony looked over at Bruce, having just placed the antidote in the freezer. “It needs to maintain a temperature of -50 degrees. Meaning…”

“You need to bring her down here, or else it won’t work. I have all the medical supplies she’ll need down here. I just need you to transport her.” 

“I’ll do it.” Bucky said, not that anyone else would have even offered. “Have every single thing ready by the time I step foot in here.”

“I’ll inform Cho.”

Both scientists nodded, scrambling to ready the emergency medical cot. Sam followed Bucky as they raced through the stairwell, racing up the stairs, though adrenaline gave Bucky all the energy in the world it seemed. 

Once he reached the room, Sam sprinted to ready the elevators, to get you to the lab as quickly as possible. Dr. Cho had removed all the tubes and wires off of you, only an oxygen mask with a tank attached. 

“Come on, baby,” Bucky strapped the oxygen tank to his back and slid his arms underneath your knees and shoulders, and ever so gently he lifted you up, grey hospital gown drenched in sweat. Your head lolled back, arms and legs completely limp. “I got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

With you laid against his chest, he moved swiftly, his pace faster than normal and it wasn’t long until he was in the elevator with you, nearly unconscious in his arms. Bucky looked down at you and rested his forehead against your sweaty hair, though it did not bother him in the slightest. 

Your brows furrowed for a moment, followed by a whimper. “We’re getting there, love. We’re almost there.”

The doors opened and Bucky made a beeline for the lab doors, immediately going to the corner of the room where they had the cot set up. As gently as he could, he cradled the back of your head as he placed you down on the mat, softly placing the tank on the ground. 

“Okay, now Tony.” Bruce unbuttoned the gown at the shoulder, revealing where you were attacked. Bucky held the side of your face, caressing your cheek. 

He had placed a part of his armor on the hand piece as he took it out of the freezer, glancing  at the space from the freezer to you, and in two big strides he held the needle just above the darkening bruise and quickly administered it into your skin. He pressed the button and a fluid was shot into your shoulder.

Your body shuddered for a moment, there was no sudden movement from you.

It was the longest minute of Bucky’s life, his eyes filling up with tears. The sudden rise and fall of your chest kept getting  stronger with every breath you sucked in. The bruise surrounding your shoulder slowly vanished, your natural skin color coming back. 

When your eyes peeled open, Bucky nearly sobbed in relief, crashing on his knees as he gripped your arms. 

“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” he pleaded desperately. 

“B-Bucky,” your voice was raspy and raw.

“Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he muttered over and over like a mantra, cradling the back of your head as he peppered your forehead and cheeks with kisses. You were still a little warm, not as life threatening as it was beforehand.

“W-where am I?” you tiredly asked, eyes roaming around the lab. “What happened?”

 Bucky gently took the oxygen mask off, replacing it with a nasal tube. “You were poisoned, honey.” Flashes of you flatlining not even two hours ago flooded his mind, but he shook them away. You were well and alive, breathing with a steady pulse. “You were really sick for a while, 

but Tony and Bruce here made a cure for you.”

You nodded, still a bit drowsy from the near death experience. “What about… him?” 

Though your voice was barely above a whisper, Bucky heard you clearly. “He’s already taken care of. If I had it my way, the bastard would spend the rest of his life on Raft for all I care.”

Tony chuckled, coming over to pat your hair and a quick kiss to your head. “Leave that to me, kiddo. This kid doesn’t know what’s coming to him. Get some rest, hon.”

Bruce, Tony and Sam all bidded you a goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. 

Bucky cradled your face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, too, Bucky.” You sounded downright exhausted. But you could finally rest. “This is why I stay behind the computers.”

Bucky chuckled and laid against the pillows, pulling you to lay on his chest. “Valid.” Your laugh was a tired one, Bucky could tell. “C’mon baby, let’s nap together.” 

You had no obligations on that, closing your eyes as you held onto Bucky’s arm, lulling to sleep. 

Finally, Bucky could rest knowing that you were at ease and finally able to rest without being in pain. His eyes drifted shut and you both finally succumbed to a well deserved rest.

--

[sparkagrace]

Steve Rogers, PA | @sparkagrace steve x bucky | teen | 38k | complete

tags: winter soldier Bucky Barnes, personal assistant Steve Rogers, beefy Steve, hunkyclinks, canon div, fluff, crack taken seriously

Steve Rogers didn't intend to work for an assassin, uh, mercenary, but it turns out he's a pretty good personal assistant. The hours are pretty good, he gets to work on his thesis… and his boss - the Winter Soldier - isn't too bad to look at either. But Steve might find that this job is more than he bargained for.

A fic created for @buckybarnesevents' Build a Bucky Bingo with some prompts from @stuckybingo.

[theangelicimp]

Waiting For the Right Time

❮ navigation | mcu masterlist | guidelines | drop a request ❯

Summary: Imagine that Bucky Barnes has a huge little crush on you. Now imagine that he's not the only one who thinks that way.

Word Count: 1,082

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!GN!reader

Warnings: None, just Bucky getting jealous and slightly possessive, mostly fluff. Reader attracts attention from all across the gender spectrum, and is stated to have powers. No Y/N, we don’t do that here. Ambiguous ending ahead!

AO3: here

Bucky’s got a problem, and for once it has nothing to do with his past.

It’s you and the way the sunlight bounces off your brown skin to make it shine. It’s you and the way your smile makes his heart do backflips. It’s you and the way your deep brown eyes look at him with nothing but admiration and care.

Bucky loves you, and he is not ready to do anything about it.

He knows, logically, that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him if he were to confess. You damn near killed yourself trying to save him during a mission in Beirut, when a mercenary lobbed a bomb his way. You plucked it from the air and flew off with it, wrapping yourself in a blue shield just as it went off – you got a nasty scar, and it makes his chest hurt every time he thinks about it. You smile to reassure him when he stares and tell him that it gives you a cool story to tell at family reunions. Worst case scenario, you would let him down gently and ask to remain friends. Even still, the worst-case scenario was apocalyptic to Bucky.

If he were going to confess, he needed to be absolutely sure that you would love him back. That was how things were, and that’s how it was going to stay until Bucky finally found the right time to confess.

Too bad the rest of the world didn’t get the memo to play along with his pining.

You got flowers the morning of June 26; Bucky remembered the exact day because his world came to a screeching halt when he read the note attached to them.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, Know what’s on the menu? Me ‘n’ U~<3 From, Your Secret Admirer”

Bucky should’ve thrown the flowers away as soon as he saw them, should have stomped on them, thrown them in an incinerator, anything to make sure you didn’t see them. People sent you flowers all the time, and you never cared what anyone did to them – you like to joke that you had the opposite of a green thumb.

But he didn’t. He froze, and you came trudging out of your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, wondering why Bucky spent so long outside your door without knocking.

“Aww, corny but sweet,” you cooed sleepily when you read the note. Bucky’s heart squeezed when you said that, and not in a good way. “Any chance these are from you?”

“No. No, they’re not.” Bucky grits out. If he sent you flowers with a note, he would be pouring his heart and soul into the card, not leaving a shitty pickup line.

“Wonder who it is then,” you yawned as you breezed by him.

Bucky spent the day tracking down the secret admirer. It was a random SHIELD agent, lower in the hierarchy, and too cocky for his own good. It only took a single visit from the former Winter Solider to get the agent to back off. Unfortunately, that agent wasn’t the last to pursue you.

When you went for your morning runs, a woman would join you every morning at exactly the halfway mark. She asked you if you wanted to go to the botanical gardens with her; Bucky showed up and pretended that there was a mission at the same time that would have happened. Thank god there actually was a mission to back him up.

When you thwarted a bioterrorist’s attempts to clear out the “undesirables,” you rescued a civilian from falling rubble with a well-timed shield. They offered to make lunch or dinner to repay you for saving them; Bucky waited till your back was turned to tell them that the Avengers didn’t accept food from strangers. Standard procedure and all that. There technically was no such procedure, but it was just common sense not to eat anything made by a stranger, right.

When Tony threw another one of his notorious parties, you were approached by a random well-to-do bachelor. He fancied himself an art aficionado and invited you to a personal showing of a rare Basquiat painting. When you left to get more champagne, Bucky got Sam to distract the man before you could give him an answer. Sam was sworn to secrecy, of course, Bucky would rather you didn’t see this side of him.

“How long are you gonna keep this up, man?” Sam groaned when he came back to the table.

“Keep what up?” Bucky kept his eyes trained on you, your enchanting laugh reaching his ears even through all the blaring music and cacophony of voices.

“This!” Sam gestured at you and Bucky. “It would just be easier to confess at this point. You can’t scare off everyone that goes near them forever.”

He gave Sam a deadpan glare. “I can and I will.”

“You would have to keep an eye on them all the time at that point, you’d basically be stalking them at that point.”

“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea.”

“Wait-“

“There’s cafe across the street from their apartment, could probably stake out there.”

“Bucky-“

“You think I could get those little spy cameras from Tony’s lab without him noticing?”

“No! You need to say something to them before someone else asks them out and they say yes.”

“’S not the right time.”

“Man, someone else is gonna snatch them up while you’re busy waiting for the right time!” Bucky left before Sam could finish talking; another woman had sidled up your table.

As much as he hated to say it Sam was right.

Bucky hated this; the constant vigilance of chasing away would-be suitors, the way his heart squeezed every time he saw you smile at someone that wasn’t him, the fear that you would pick someone else before he could show you how much he loved you.

So on a cold November 12th, Bucky woke up earlier than everyone else in the tower to finally enact his plan. He went to the only shop open in Brooklyn for a fruit bouquet – filled with all the fruit he knew you liked and drizzled with chocolate. He dressed in the outfit Steve had helped him with – something casual, but made to impress. He put on your favorite playlist – Etta James, and Al Green, and Aretha Franklin.

With everything in place and his nerves at an all-time high, Bucky took a deep breath and knocked on your door.

Original A/N: Little something I thought up that I had to get out before I forgot or something, hope y'all enjoy! It was inspired by another post that I haven't been able to find, but it takes place in the 40s right before Bucky is shipped out to the warfront. If anyone can find it please let me know!

[blood-and-winter-buckynat]

A BuckyNat story where their cats Alpine and Liho figure out that their humans like each other and decide to get them together, so the two cats arrange a series of feline hijinks to make sure their humans take time out of their busy superhero/villain/mercenary schedules to clean up the mess and "Nat, I'm so sorry, idk why my cat's been acting weird lately--" "Liho, why do you keep going over to Barnes' apartment?" But those 'chance' meetings are enough to trigger some chemistry and soon their owners don't mind their cats visiting each other, in fact Bucky and Natasha start going out.

[watchnrant]

Quake: Veil of Deception

Series Concept:

Quake: Veil of Deception continues from Matthew Rosenberg’s Secret Warriors, centering on Daisy Johnson, aka Quake, as she navigates the complex world of espionage and hidden threats in the wake of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s collapse. The series integrates the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, particularly the Power Broker storyline, while maintaining the mystery of Sharon Carter’s true identity as the Power Broker—known only to the audience.

Premise:

Following the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Daisy Johnson is drawn into a dangerous new mission when she uncovers a growing black market for advanced weapons and technology, spearheaded by a mysterious figure known only as the Power Broker. Daisy’s investigation takes her to Madripoor, where she must navigate a world of criminals, mercenaries, and rogue operatives. Unbeknownst to Daisy, the Power Broker is Sharon Carter, a former ally whose true motives remain hidden from everyone but the audience.

Plot Outline:

Arc 1: The Shadows of Madripoor

After receiving intelligence from an old S.H.I.E.L.D. contact, Daisy learns of a new threat emerging from Madripoor—a city now under the control of the enigmatic Power Broker. Daisy’s mission is to infiltrate the criminal underworld and gather information about the Power Broker’s operations. However, she’s unaware that the Power Broker is Sharon Carter, who is carefully orchestrating her plans while maintaining her cover as a simple arms dealer.

Throughout this arc, Sharon appears to Daisy as an ally, offering her assistance in navigating the treacherous environment of Madripoor. The audience, however, knows that Sharon is manipulating events from behind the scenes, ensuring that her true identity remains concealed while she uses Daisy to eliminate her rivals and secure her position.

Arc 2: The Broker’s Web

As Daisy delves deeper into the Power Broker’s network, she begins to uncover disturbing evidence of super-soldier experimentation and the illegal trade of S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. Suspicion grows as Daisy notices inconsistencies in Sharon’s behavior and the way events seem to play out to the Power Broker’s advantage. Yet, every time Daisy gets close to uncovering the truth, Sharon skillfully redirects her suspicions elsewhere, maintaining her facade.

Sharon, as the Power Broker, strategically feeds Daisy just enough information to keep her off balance, leading her into conflicts with other criminal organizations in Madripoor. All the while, Sharon’s endgame—control of a new breed of super-soldiers—draws closer to fruition.

Arc 3: Unseen Enemies

Daisy’s investigation uncovers a deeper conspiracy involving the remnants of Hydra and rogue S.H.I.E.L.D. agents working for the Power Broker. The tension between Daisy and Sharon builds, as Sharon’s cover begins to show cracks under the pressure of Daisy’s relentless pursuit of the truth.

In a twist, Bucky Barnes arrives in Madripoor, having been tipped off by an anonymous source (Sharon herself, unbeknownst to him). Bucky’s arrival complicates matters further, as he and Daisy team up to track down the Power Broker, both unaware that the person they are looking for is right under their noses.

The audience is treated to moments where Sharon, under the guise of helping Daisy and Bucky, subtly manipulates events to ensure her plans stay on track. Her duplicity adds tension to every interaction, with the readers aware of the looming revelation that could shatter Daisy and Bucky’s trust.

Arc 4: The Shattered Mask

In the final arc, Daisy closes in on the Power Broker’s operations, forcing Sharon to take increasingly drastic measures to protect her identity. Daisy discovers that the Power Broker’s true objective is not just power, but the creation of a new order where those like her—those with enhanced abilities—are under her control.

As the confrontation draws near, Sharon is forced to confront the possibility that she can no longer keep her identity a secret. The arc culminates in a high-stakes showdown at an old S.H.I.E.L.D. facility in Madripoor, where Daisy, Bucky, and Sharon face off against the Power Broker’s forces.

During the final battle, Daisy comes within a breath of uncovering Sharon’s secret, but Sharon manages to maintain her cover by making a calculated sacrifice—destroying evidence and framing a third party as the Power Broker, leaving her true identity intact for now. The audience is left on edge, knowing that Daisy has been deceived, but also aware that Sharon’s secret is hanging by a thread.

Arc 5: Reflections in the Dark

In the aftermath, Daisy reflects on her mission, troubled by the lingering mysteries and the sense that something is not quite right. Sharon, meanwhile, returns to her dual life, continuing her work as the Power Broker, but now with a heightened awareness of how close she came to being exposed.

The series ends with a promise of future conflict—Daisy is more determined than ever to uncover the truth about the Power Broker, while Sharon, watching from the shadows, knows that her greatest challenge is yet to come. The closing scene hints at a new threat emerging, one that could force Sharon to reveal her true identity or risk everything she has built.

Characters:

Daisy Johnson/Quake: The central protagonist, driven by her sense of justice and her complex feelings about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s legacy. Her journey is one of discovery, both external and internal, as she seeks to uncover the truth about the Power Broker.

Sharon Carter/Power Broker: The secret antagonist, whose true identity as the Power Broker is known only to the audience. Sharon’s dual role adds layers of tension, as she carefully maneuvers to keep her cover intact while pursuing her own goals.

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier: An ally whose involvement complicates the narrative, adding depth and history to the story. Bucky’s presence forces both Daisy and Sharon to confront their pasts.

Supporting Cast: Various characters from the underworld of Madripoor, former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and new allies who add to the intrigue and complexity of the story.

Tone and Style:

The series maintains a dark, espionage-driven tone, with a focus on character dynamics and psychological tension. The duality of Sharon Carter’s character, combined with Daisy’s relentless pursuit of justice, creates a narrative rich in suspense and moral ambiguity. The art style would reflect this, with a noir-inspired aesthetic that underscores the shadowy, often deceptive nature of the world in which these characters operate.

[sunflowerrosewood]

Trapped Together ~ Bucky Barnes

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot! Takes place after Civil War

You have been working in the Avengers for two years as a mercenary. You would help build and rebuild weapons and when you fought, you fought with a silver sword and grenades. 

While you worked together with Nat and Clint often, the others had a lot of respect for you. Well most of them. One particular man that wasn't as keen was Bucky Barnes. He always seemed to piss you off or degrade your work. 

You actually thought Bucky was extremely attractive and kind to others but whenever he would degrade your work, you would feel your heart shatter. It made you feel like you meant nothing to him. 

Well Bucky thought opposite of that. You walked in with your head high and knowing how to make weapons. He could have kissed you then and there. But you couldn't love him. He's still in bad shape from after Wakanda. Sure he was "fixed" from the brainwashing but it scared him if it came back. It was easier to push away. It was easy to call you out harshly when you fixed his gun. 

You were working on Sam's Red Wing with him and noticed Bucky had walked in. 

"L/n, what are you doing? Trying to break Sam's Red Wing?" Bucky sneered before dropping a file on your table. 

"What did you drop Barnes?" You snapped back as Bucky rolled his eyes. 

"We're on a weekend case in Barcelona. Apparently there's  Hydra trying to build up there." Bucky explained before storming off. 

"I swear you two just need to kiss." Sam grumbled as you dropped your wrench on your foot. 

"Damn it!" You held your foot. "Why do you say that?"

"There's too much tension here." Sam chuckled as you two continued repairs.

It was a few days later when you wore some jeans and a tank top. You got your overnight bag and went to meet Bucky. Bucky was already at the helicarrier and glaring towards the door. 

"Ready to go?" You questioned.

"The sooner we can get this over with." Bucky grumbled as you sighed. 

You two sat as far from each other until the plane landed in Barcelona and near your hotel. You two entered your room and noticed you two had to share a bed. 

"I can-can sleep on the floor." You stuttered out as Bucky sighed. 

"No we both need our strength so just stay to your side. I'll get us some food." Bucky sighed. 

You sat your bag down and jumped in the shower while Bucky got food. Bucky got back before you got out of your shower. You did not know Bucky imagined sharing that shower with you and listening to the humming that he could barely hear. When he realized the water turned off, he immediately sat the food out. He already began to ate. 

"I see you grabbed some chops. Thanks." You said softly as you came out in a tank and shorts. 

"It's nothing L/n." Bucky said. 

The night went as well as it could. Bucky took a shower and you couldn’t help but stare at his body as he got out of the shower. You quickly went back to your phone as Bucky got into bed beside you. You felt your heart race as he laid down away from you. You sighed and laid down yourself.

When you woke up, there was breakfast out and Bucky was already dressed. He was loading his gun which he was having difficulties with. You got up with bed head and walked over to your bag to grab some wrenches.

“Here.” You said with a yawn as you tinkered with the gun. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky questioned with not as much haste. 

“I’m fixing your gun.” You said softly before handing it back and it was working better.

“I found breakfast for us.” Bucky said before working to get other things together.

“Thanks.” You said while munching on the omelette. 

After you ate the rest of breakfast and got some clothes on, you and Bucky ran out to the helicarrier to fly to the nearest base for Hydra. You and Bucky grabbed your weapons like his machine gun from Wakanda and your Claymore sword. You noticed Bucky was not as rude to you until the Hydra agents found you. 

“Damn it L/n! If you would have made a silencer on the gun, we would not be running!” Bucky screamed as you were following him.

“Will you shut up and keep running?! There’s like 30 agents firing.” You yelled before a bullet hit your shoulder. “Oww! Damn it!” 

You two ran into a nearby small room and quickly locked the door. The other Hydra agents came storming in and past your room that you two heard. You were grabbing your arm that was staining your hand red.

“Damn it, if we would have gotten rid of them. We would not have to deal with this. Now we have to wait for backup. You better hope we do not have to stay in this tiny room.” Bucky rambled while pacing in a small area where you could only pace three steps. 

“If you would quit rambling then maybe we can get out of this.” You said as Bucky was still pacing.

“If we would have had the damn silencer, we would be fine!” Bucky snapped before stopping his pacing. “You’re hurt?!”

“Now you notice.” You snapped. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Here let me-”

“If you are just going to degrade me more then let me heal myself.” You snapped.

Bucky stopped and dropped down on his knees to grab a bandana that he had in his pocket. He touched your arm and you flinched.

“Sorry Y/n.” Bucky said as he opened your bag. “Do you have water that I can clean ?” 

“Back pocket.” You hissed as Bucky opened to find your med kit and water bottle.

As Bucky cleaned the wound and pulled out the bullet. He sighed and continued to wash some water over it before you heard more firing. You could hear Sam, Steve, Nat, and Tony outside the area yelling. You sighed in relief as Bucky wrapped your wound with a bandana.

“Bucky? Y/n?” You heard Steve yell as Bucky kicked the door to show where you two were. 

“There you two are! We got rid of the Hydra agents. Let’s get on the helicarrier.” Sam said as he noticed the already stained bandana. “Y/n! You’re hurt!” 

Sam immediately helped you up and you failed to notice Bucky’s hurt expression. He was thinking over the idea that you said you degraded him. He walked towards the helicarrier almost like a ghost. 

As you returned back to the base, Steve made you get your wound patched up and allowed you to take the next couple of days off. You hated having to not work in your mercenary room. You were listening to your favorite genre of music until you heard a knock. 

“Come in.” You said softly as you saw Bucky walk in. “Barnes, what are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior. Is it okay if I come over to you?” Bucky asked while scratching the back of his neck.

“Of course.” You said before patting the spot beside you. “FRIDAY, please turn down the music.”

“On it Ms. L/n.” FRIDAY said as Bucky walked over.

“Y/n, I never meant it to seem like I was degrading you when it came to your weapons or self. When you snapped that comment at me in the Hydra base, I was honestly surprised. I came off rude to you to protect yourself but I feel bad. I really do think you are a wonderful person.” Bucky explained as you smiled softly.

“Thank you for apologizing Bucky. I honestly thought you hated me so I kept to myself with Sam.” You explained as Bucky touched your hand.

“I could never hate you. Quite the opposite really.” Bucky said softly. 

“What do you mean?” You asked as you scooted closer to him.

“I fell for you Y/n. I figured you would not want to date a man from the ‘40s who has issues with his past.” Bucky explained as you shook your head.

“Bucky I don’t look at those issues. You were and are very brave.” You said to him as he turned your face to him.

“Is it okay if I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” Bucky said as you softly laughed.

“Always the gentleman.” You teased before kissing his lips.

As you two kissed each other, it was as if the kiss was conveying the emotions left unsaid. You were pushing passion and love in the kiss. Bucky reciprocated quickly and continued to kiss you till the two of you fell backwards. You were looking into his ice blue eyes and panting softly. The two of you laughed as Bucky fell beside you.

“I still hate that you got hurt.” Bucky said as you quickly did not make eye contact. “Y/n.”

“It was coming for you so I jumped into it.” You mumbled but you know he heard because he quickly turned to you.

“What?!” He exclaimed as you buried your face into his chest.

“It was coming for you and I did not want you to get hurt.” You said as he kissed your temple.

“Well from now on, I am going to protect you. Not the other way around.” He said softly as you smiled into his chest.

You failed to notice the cheering outside your door as Sam and Steve were rooting for this. They asked FRIDAY to see your room and make sure it was going smoothly. They noticed the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms and cheered quietly. For you and Bucky, the two of you slept until dinner was served which Bucky brought to you in bed. 

[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - thirteen

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, angst, Anthony being Anthony

word count: 2k

part 12 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv  @iateall-yourcookies  @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @goldensunflowe-r @wh0reforbucknasty

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

The moment they arrived at Bucky’s, she had thrown open the car door before he could open it for her and brushed past him up the stairs. He had felt her anger before but this time is entirely different. There’s a budding relationship at stake now, the flower just barely peeking out of the soil and any turbulent weather would destroy it. He had to figure out a way to apologize at the very least if he wanted to save what they had, however, she isn’t going to make it easy by any means. 

“Doll, wait” he calls after her when she disappears inside. 

Steve comes out, looking back at her and then at Bucky, “Do I want to know?”

“If I’m not in my office in 15 minutes, send help,” he huffs, chasing after her inside the house. 

She hadn’t worn heels that day so there was no clicking to be heard but the heavy thuds of her boots do echo as she continues to march up to her room. Bucky’s footsteps aren’t far behind her which pisses her off even more. 

Turning on her heel now only feet away from him and catching by surprise, “Stop following me.”

“Will you just stop for a second then?”

“Why? You didn’t care at the café or in the car so what changed?” she spits with disgust. 

“You were the one who came at me first,” his nostril flared in vexation at her attitude. 

Her mocking laugh bounces off the walls, “After you pulled some shit.”

She spins away and resumes her march onward, leaving Bucky irate and fuming. He has to clench to stop himself from saying something stupid. 

“Doll this is your last warning; stop,” he demands, his voice drips with authority. 

However she doesn’t stop, throwing open her bedroom door and nearly slamming it shut but his hands stop it, rings making harsh sounds as they land on the wood. 

“I told you to stop.”

“And I told you to stop following me.”

He is on her in seconds, spinning her around so that her back meets the door. Caging her in with hands on either side of her shoulders, he stares down at her with menacing blue eyes. 

“Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me” she hisses as she tries to shove him away from her. His left-hand grips both of her hands and pins them to her chest so she can’t move. 

“I asked you politely to stop once and then I had to ask again. I don’t like to repeat myself, let alone chase angry brats up the stairs,” his hot breath fans against her face, “Now are you going to behave?”

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, “Are you going to get off of me?” A sinister chuckle leaves his mouth as he continues to stare down at her, “No, now don’t make me repeat myself.”

A quiet ‘okay’ comes from her, soft under the harsh gaze of the mercenary. She’s never seen his menacing side up close before and it was terrifying to see the gentleman she’s come to know act this way. 

“Good girl. Before you decided to be a brat, I was trying to apologize for setting up that meeting with Anthony. I should’ve talked to you about it beforehand but as we know, you don’t like to do as I say so I had to make an executive decision.”

She tries to speak but his free hands clasp over her mouth so she can’t. 

“I’m not done speaking,” he pauses to ensure she’s listening, “I had hoped that my goodbye would’ve turned out differently but I guess we don’t get what we want sometimes. I have to leave early for Washington D.C. for an emergency meeting. I was going to surprise you with a weekend away but I don’t think you deserve it. Regardless there will be a party Friday honoring Steve, Sam, and me, and you will be joining me. Nat has all of the details and will keep an eye on you while I’m gone. Do you think you can behave until then?”

Every fiber in her body is on fire with anger and lust but mostly anger at his demeaning words. Men like him are every inch of dangerous they seem to be and it was stupid of her to assume he wouldn’t use his power over her as he is now. She wants to slap him to set him straight but she’s not in the position to make any power moves. Instead, she nods and resists the urge to spit at him when he moves his hand away. 

“Good girl, Doll. Remember if anything happens, Nat will tell me.” 

“I’m aware,” the slight challenge is enough to make him smirk but not enough for him to reassert his dominance. He releases her hands and backs away. 

“While you’re out dress shopping, make sure to get matching wedding rings. I planned for us to do it together but it looks like that won’t happen.”

“Do you want a simple one or one to match the size of your ego?”

“Whatever you pick will be just fine, Doll,” he kisses her forehead which should be a sweet gesture but is really just a callback to the first time he did it; a move to show he’s in control. 

________________________________________________________________

A week is plenty of time to plot your revenge against an asshole husband who had tried to control you and treated you like some stupid housewife, right? It seems as though it is just the right amount of time for her to plot her revenge. There are several ways she could go about this however the best option is the one he least expects. 

During her week, true to his word, Nat hadn’t left her side and was always within a three-foot radius of her. When Doll moved, Nat moved. It was a bit exhausting however she did like her so it made for a fast week. Their first outing had been to find rings which proved to be harder than they had anticipated. 

They had found her ring within half an hour, a 3-carat eternity band to match her 3-carat solitaire radiant engagement ring. Finding Bucky’s, however, took nearly an hour. 

“What about this one?” Nat had been holding up a simple black band when she’d asked Doll. 

“No, that's too simple. We need something just big enough that it’s annoying,” she’d replied as the jewelry counter person gave them both weird looks. 

“Ah, I see. What about this one?” This time she’d held up a ring that looked like it belonged to a football player who had won the Super Bowl. 

“Jesus he might actually kill me if I showed up with that,” Doll laughed as she continued to search. 

Both of their eyes went on the same ring; a silver signet ring much like the one he already wore.

“Excuse me, can this be engraved and how long will it take?” 

“Yes Madam it can be engraved and for you, we could have it ready in two days,” the French jeweler said as they took the ring and began the process of checking the women out. 

Nat rolled her eyes as Doll made sure that Bucky would feel her revenge. 

________________________________________________________________

He had tried to text, call, and even facetime her while he was away but she barely answered. His messages were met with short responses, his calls either declined or lasted less than five minutes, and she only picked up his facetime call once. Steve harassed him endlessly about how whipped he was and how he needed to get over the honeymoon phase already. He was met with legendary side eyes and one-word commands from the brooding mercenary. 

At this rate, he would be surprised if she even showed up. His only confirmation that she was alive and still planned on coming to D.C. was Nat’s updates. The latest of which had been a secretive picture of Doll trying on dresses for the gala. She was trying on a red floor-length dress that was a halter top with an open back. The caption that accompanied it said: “She hates the red. Any color suggestions?”

“The red looks the best.”

“Are you even trying to get on her good side? Pick a different color and I won’t tell her what you said.”

“Fine black is her signature color.”

“You’re the worst. Remind me to never take you shopping.”

If Nat kept sending him pictures, he might hop on a plane back to New York and beg for forgiveness on his knees.

________________________________________________________________

“I don’t know Nat. I’m not really feeling the red but I can’t go with black because that’s too obvious. What about blue? Or white?”

Nat lounges in the boutique’s chair, phone on her lap as if she wasn’t secretly sending pictures to Bucky. Doll fiddles with the sides of the dress she’s currently wearing, turning in every direction to get a better look. 

“For someone who claims to not care what he thinks, you’re sure doing a lot of worrying.”

“And you’re terrible at hiding the fact that you’re taking pictures.”

“It’s for safety reasons,” she tries while taking another picture, this time not even trying to hide it. 

“As in you’re tired of Bucky blowing up your phone, asking for updates so you’re voluntarily sending him pictures to get him to stop,” Doll says as she steps off the pedestal and heads to the dressing room. 

“He’s getting really irritated that you’re not answering his messages or calls, ya know? Ignoring him isn’t going to make him any nicer the next time you see him,” Nat calls after her. 

“Ignoring him is a welcomed side effect of planning my revenge. Black or white?”

“Bucky says black.”

“White it is.”

Nat chuckles at the other woman as she goes back to her phone. Stepping back out of the dressing room, she’s wearing another floor-length gown that’s white with feathers across the top. 

“Mmmmm,” she hums as she adjusts the top, “No. The white is too bright.”

“Isn’t that what you want though? To be the center of attention?”

“If I wanted that, I would just show up naked.”

Nat chokes on the champagne she is sipping and has to cough as she looks over at Doll, phone to her ear. Doll starts laughing at her reaction but it quickly dies off when she sees the phone in Nat’s hand and the horrified look on her face. 

“I don’t know what did you hear?” Nat says into the phone, “Hm I think you need hearing aids. We’re almost done here and then we’ll be headed back to your place to pack. Goodbye.”

“You are going to get yourself into big trouble,” she points at the other woman with a warning. 

“How was I supposed to know you were on the phone? You didn’t warn me.”

“I don’t have to tell you every time I’m on the phone. Hurry up before he shows up at the house, ready to fight someone.” 

She sticks her tongue out at Nat as she walks back to the dressing rooms once again. Neither woman say anything as she changes into the last dress. The second white dress was not her first choice but it’s looking like it might be her only choice. Sliding it up her body, the sleeveless mermaid gown had a corset top the wraparound style and central slit gave it the elegance she was looking for. The corset has horizontal draperies that gracefully accentuate her shape and to top it off, it has a small and neat train. 

“Nat,” her sing-song voice flows through the air as she waltzes back to the mirrors. 

“My my Mrs. Barnes, don’t you look dazzling?” the other woman fiends fainting at the sight of her. 

“I think this is the one.” 

“I agree,” Nat pauses to glance at her phone, “and your rings are ready so let’s get out of here.”

[questionableratatouille00]

listen I know I already made a post like this but what are we thinking in a post moving on future

jolly sailor bold: mermaid reader x pirate/mercenary Bucky Barnes. Filled with lore, including Mt wundagore, Asgardian stuff, royalty, and magic. Pretty cool

you’ve caught a stray: not an au but certainly not canon compliant. Reader moves away from DC post SHIELD crash, to a farm in West Virginia owned by a family member who doesn’t live there. Anyway, their only neighbor is Bucky (who suffers from extreme agoraphobia post-HYDRA). They fall in love over a series of chaotic events and it’s pretty cool.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

A Shot to the Heart - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: mr & mrs smith vibes, injuries, hurt x comfort, hospital stay

word count: 6.9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1431325298-a-shot-to-the-heart-florence

vibe: "How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

Masterlist

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His target’s villa was supposed to be littered with bodyguards, even as Bucky made his way silently through the hallway leading to the man selling the latest deadly drug on the market, something felt off about the silence.

He’d encountered almost no resistance.

His heartbeat was thrumming steadily in his ears as he neared the main bedroom, the door beckoning him like a bullseye. His steps were quiet as he closed one fist around the handle while the other tightened on his trusty blade. 

The door didn’t make a sound as he opened it and slipped through it, closing it swiftly as his ears caught the faint sound of music. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he inched closer to the noise leaking through the spacious wing. His intel was solid, he’d been monitoring the French-Algerian mercenary for a month now.

Batroc had a set routine; hide in plain sight while making connections with the local higher ups of the island he was currently hiding in, stay in his villa to host parties on the weekends, and he was always alone on weekdays. He even went to bed early.

Which is why Bucky was confused as to why he was awake– apparently with a companion from the sounds of seductive music filtering in through the walls, when he was supposed to be sleeping. The job was supposedly an easy in-and-out.

Pulling his gun with the silencer attached, he held the two weapons and decided to spring into action with quick steps only for his feet to stop at the sight of a very familiar body swaying seductively in front of a dazed looking French asshole. The woman’s back was to Bucky while she slowly stripped off a trench coat and dropped it to the floor. The blood rushing through his veins was boiling hot but not because of the black corset that was painted on her every delicious curve. No, it was because that body with a distinctive constellation of birthmarks on the back belonged to his wife.

Betrayal. Anger. White hot rage burned everywhere.

“Florence? What the fuck?!”

"Bucky," a tiny whisper left her lips, whether it was annoyance or surprise, Bucky wasn't quite sure. 

His eyes flickered between Florence and Batroc, a dangerous man now with the upper hand as his realization clicked into place that he was in danger.

"Guards!" He bellowed, scrambling up from his seated position and tumbling over the side. Within seconds four sets of boots were rushing down the hall at them. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" She whipped around on her stilettos. Clicking across the floor toward Batroc as she swiped her jacket from the floor, but it wasn't the jacket that came up in her hands, it was a slim, black pistol. Poised to kill. 

"What am I doing here?" Bucky growled, slamming the thin doors closed behind him. They wouldn't keep the guards out but it would buy them some time. "You're a  kindergarten teacher!" The shock was settling in, grasping a hold of any rational thoughts he might have had coming into this mission. "What are you doing here?" He kicked his boot against the couch and sent it flying up against the doors, barricading them inside.

“Listen, clearly we need to talk but this really isn’t the time, Bucky.” 

Bucky stared at her bewildered, struggling to wrap his head around what his sweet, civilian wife was doing in the home of a French mercenary.

“No shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, head snapping at the sound of quickening footsteps and growing shouts. “Can you run in those?” He asked, pointing to her shoes. 

“You know I can. I take it this is a normal Tuesday for you so what’s the plan?”

“Normal Tuesday,” He scoffed “I’ll talk to you about a normal Tuesday you just w-”

“James!” Bucky’s mumbles were cut off by Florence’s exasperated voice piercing through his ears, “not now.”

He shook his jumbled thoughts from his head as he found her eyes and nodded sharply, turning towards the door and pushing her just slightly behind him as he braced himself for the incursion. 

“What are you doing?” She hissed. 

“Florence just,” 

Both their heads turned to the sounds of Batroc clambering to open a window on the far left side of the room. He watched her in complete awe, mouth agape as she raised her gun and pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing straight through his hand. 

“You were saying?” 

“Just, do exactly that I guess,” He turned back towards the sounds closing in on them and back to her, not a sliver of trepidation in her beautiful chestnut eyes. “And don’t get hurt, please.” His brows knit in worry before he took a steadying breath and turned away once more.

Florence scoffed as she stalked over to where Batroc lay on the ground, clutching his wrist and moaning painfully. She bent over, displaying her ass and the length of her legs, which had Bucky moaning almost as loud as his target but for an entirely different reason. His distraction was soon over as his wife scooped up her jacket and slipped it on before turning to Batroc once more.

“Where are the files, you piece of shit,” she hissed, pressing one stilettoed foot against his throat.

“Wait a second,” Bucky interrupted. “Files? What files?”

He saw his wife release a sigh of annoyance as she pressed the heeled foot into Batroc's chest now, making him wince in pain when her heel dug deep.

"I would say it's classified but..." she gave Bucky a wickedly brilliant smile over her shoulder that almost had him forgetting he was angry.

"...I'm guessing you're here for the same reason, my love. I want the files on the new drug he has circling around."

"I was sent to take him out," Bucky narrowed his eyes. 

Florence rolled her shoulders and dug her heel deep into his chest as he tried to squirm away, mumbling something about internal communication under her breath. 

"You were never supposed to find out this way." She looked up at him. Regret painted across her beautiful face. 

Bucky opened his mouth to respond when the door behind him flew open and three men crashed into the room with their weapons drawn. He was quick on the first, grabbing his gun hand and slamming it against the door frame painfully and with enough force to snap the man's arm in half before kicking him backward out into the hallway. 

"This conversation isn't over!" He grunted, taking a gunshot to his vibranium arm. It shuddered in response, curling up and rebounding the bullet away. "You guys never learn." He hauled back his arm, the plates shifting and clicking before making contact. The man yelped and stumbled backward, dropping his gun and clutching his crushed face as Bucky stalked him. 

A gunshot rang out in the room, Bucky turning only to catch the third man crumbling to the floor, a leaking hole through his temple. 

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Florence quipped with a shrug of her slender shoulders. 

"Ren!" Bucky barked as a second shot echoed. Batroc's bloody hand curled around the handle aimed at Florence. Bucky slammed his boot against the throat of the second guard, rendering him unconscious as Florence exhaled a shaky breath and her fingers found the blood that poured from her shoulder. 

"You shot me!" She groaned loudly, turning on Batroc and laying a swift, hard kick across his face. Clipping his arm in the motion, his gun went sliding across the room as more footsteps pounded down the hallway toward them. "We need to..." her words faltered and so did her step as the color drained from her face.

Bucky's eyes widened and he rushed forward, adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins as he reached for Florence. She glanced down at the blood pooling from the bullet hole and swayed, stumbling for the wall as Bucky swiftly caught her. He pressed his fingers to her shoulder, trying to staunch the wound. 

"Fuck! Florence, sweetheart, you gotta stay with me long enough for us to get out of here. Think you can do that for me?" He murmured as he tried to tamper down the rising panic. Never mind that she'd lied to him, if anything happened to her he'd lose it.  

"Huh?" Florence hummed, glassy eyes meeting his. 

"We gotta get out of here, Ren. I gotta get you out of here."

"Batroc..." she mumbled but Bucky couldn't dart his eyes away from her while he tried to hold her upright.

"I don't give a fuck about Batroc. All I care about is you right now, pretty girl." Her weight was getting heavier in his arms and he forced himself to look around for any other danger. He wouldn't risk her getting hurt again only because he let his emotions take over for a short moment.

Instead of using the advantage, Batroc was glued to the floor in front of them, the gun still in his bloody hand. Bucky's eyes narrowed and he shot the French a death glare that normally was reserved for Red Wing. 

"You!" he started, adjusting his grip around Florence's middle while his vibranium hand reached into the holster that was securing multiple knives to his thigh.

"Merde," Batroc hissed, spinning around and trying to open the window behind him with his good hand. Bucky flicked the knife and it pierced effortlessly through Batroc's hand, making him grunt in pain.

“No-one. Touches. My. Wife.” Bucky growled through gritted teeth, shoving down the urge to make the mercenary’s last meal a mouth full of vibranium.

A gentle touch to his cheek brought him back to himself and he looked down at his precious burden, who stared at him with a look of utter adoration.

“That was really hot,” she slurred but then her eyes rolled backward and her lids fluttered closed, her hand falling from his face as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“Ren, REN! Shit!” Bucky hissed as he held her tighter, running out of the room as carefully as he could.

“Medic, we need…agent down…shot. I need her…just…help…” he babbled into his comm, his voice cracking as he tried to relay the information.

The response confirming they heard him and help is on the way was muted by the chaos around them both.

"Fuck! Just– just hang on baby, I'll get you out of here." 

He told Florence, trying to keep her concious enough to get them out of there safely. Her body was getting heavier in Bucky's arms as he carried her and maneuvered around the room with shots coming from every direction and headed to the only exit available; the window.

Peering out once he was close enough, Bucky tightened his grip on Florence. All he could see was a thin ledge running along the outside of the villa, the one Batroc must have clung to before climbing in through the window. There was no way he would be able to balance on that with his wife in his arms, or use it to leverage himself down further. 

The drop wasn't huge, but he still didn't like the idea of jumping, not with Florence fading in and out, her blood seeping into his own tac jacket, hot and sticky, as he held her closer. She groaned softly, skin pale and dewy with sweat. 

"It's alright, pretty girl. I got you," he gritted out just as a shot whistled past him, shattering the plaster of the wall in front of them. "Fuck. Okay, we gotta go. Hold on tight, Ren. S'gonna be okay." 

Bucky heaved himself up onto the window ledge, glancing once behind him. Pressing his lips into Florence's hair, he put his focus on his landing point and counted down quietly before jumping.

“Just… fo- for the record… I’m as ba- badass as you,” she mumbled, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. 

“Shhh. Save your energy, baby. You can show me all your badass-ness later.” He couldn’t stop his heart from going haywire. 

Boot steps were echoing through the room he just climbed out of and while tightening his one arm around Florence, he held his gun through the window with the other, shooting completely blind. To his own surprise he heard the thud of a body right after the ringing of the shot vanished in his ears. 

With quick head movements he scanned their surroundings.

Pressing them up against the wall of the villa, he took a glance back down at Florence and his heart sank even further when he saw she’d slipped back into unconsciousness.

Quickly sliding along the wall and back around to his entry point he blinked away the tears that threatened to cloud his vision as he rasped against the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I know you’d have made that jump, pretty girl, even in heels. God, I’m so proud of you, I mean, I was before too, wrangling toddlers needs nerves of steel but…I’m rambling, sweetness, I know, I’m sorry. I just want you to wake up.”

He sniffled loudly and carefully adjusted the long leather jacket around his wife’s lingerie-clad form, making sure she wouldn’t get too chilled.

He took a glance to the left and right before dashing across the villa’s courtyard and towards the side gate where he’d entered not ten minutes before.

Reaching his car, Bucky laid Florence delicately in the passenger seat, as if she were made of glass, before climbing behind the wheel and setting off in the direction of his rendezvous point, hoping beyond hope that the med-evac would get there in time.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as Bucky drove. Voices over his comm directed him where he needed to go but it all seemed to fade in the background as images of their life together flashed before him. The night they met, their wedding...Bucky felt a pang of hurt in his chest when his mind raised the question of if any of it was real. 

Saddened blue eyes flickered to his wife, her chest barely rising and falling with her shallow breaths. Waking her up would mean having to face the fact that their relationship he thought was built on honesty and truth was tainted with a secret so big it got her hurt. 

After a few sharp turns and questionable roads he spotted the med-evac waiting for them just beyond the brush. Bucky quickly threw the car into park and slid his wife from the vehicle, her soft groans and whimpers only shattered off pieces of his heart the more he jostled her around. "You're gonna get through this." He whispered into her hair. "Don't you die on me Ren."

"Sergeant Barnes! Sergeant!" 

The shouts made the woman in his arms flinch for a moment as he turned to see a handful of people coming towards him, carrying all kinds of medical aid.

"Sergeant Barnes! What happened?" One of them questioned while he rushed to get her on the stretcher they laid for her. His wife's whimpers of pain pierced through his heart as they started to undress her from the top to see the wound.

"Be careful with her," Bucky whispered. Not really paying attention to anything else but the love of his life as he cradled her pale face in his palms.

"Sergeant? May I ask who this is?" An agent accompanying the medical team asked in a careful tone, "we were not informed there would be anyone else but you, sir." 

He didn't answer. He didn't know how to even begin to explain the situation when his head was swarmed with questions of his own. 

Another pained whimper left Ren's mouth, this one louder and breaking through his thoughts.

"I said be fucking careful!" Bucky seethed at the medic.

The woman's eyes flicked to him but her expression remained passive as she examined the bullet wound, unaffected by his anger. He supposed they had to be. 

"It was a through and through, but she's lost a lot of blood," Bucky explained,  "just-- fuck, you gotta save her." 

"We'll do our best, Sergeant. Are you travelling back with us?" 

It took a second for the medic's words to catch up and he glowered, stepping closer with his vibranium hand balled into a fist.

"I'm sorry? You'll do your best? You fucking save her and that's an order." 

"Sergeant, stand down," a voice piped up amongst the fray just as the medic murmured out a weak, "yes, Sarge."

The medic started to put ECG electrodes all over Florence‘s upper body and Bucky‘s eyes darted over to the monitor to see how his wife was doing.

Her heart was beating regularly, but slower than usual. The sound of her normal, steady heartbeat while he had his head resting on her chest was burned into his brain.

He struggled more and more to keep the concern at bay, but when they placed the cuff around her good arm and he saw how low her blood pressure was, his heart ached and he was sure someone was tightening a rope around his chest. 

“Do something,” he whispered, his eyes wandering to Ren‘s unconscious face. She looked almost peaceful, like she was sleeping. And she was so fucking beautiful even with her paled skin and sweat all over her face. He’d been the luckiest man on earth that she chose him all those years ago. At least he thought he was, until today when his world was turned upside down.

“You listen to me, Florence Barnes,” he gritted, shouldering a poor medic out of the way as he leaned towards his wife’s ear. “I know we said in sickness and in health but this is taking things a bit too far now, don’t you think?”

The medics eyed each other in shock and surprise, one mouthing his wife?! at the others before they doubled-down their efforts to stabilise the fallen agent.

“Baby, you just gotta…fight…you know? I know I’m an absolute train wreck, ha, but I need you, Ren, I need you so much.”

A harsh beep from the equipment had the medics moving even more frantically as one of them turned to Bucky and grabbed his elbow.

“With all due respect, Sergeant, move, now!”

Bucky glared down at the medic, wrenching his arm out of their grasp. "Save Her.” 

The medic gave him a solemn nod before Bucky stepped back and let them get to work. He watched from the edge of the bay, pacing every few moments before stopping whenever they'd start barking orders at each other. He knew enough medical terminology to patch a bullet wound, but anything deeper than that he was foggy. It felt like his heart wanted to explode out of his chest until a familiar voice came over his comms. 

"Florence! Buck you brought Florence on a mission with you what the hell man!" Sam's angry voice echoed through his ear. 

"I didn't bring her." Bucky muttered as he stared at his wife. 

"What did you just say?" 

"She was already there."

“The fuck? Man what the hell is goin’ on?!” 

“Fuck if I know, Sam,” Bucky replied. 

He hated this, the helpless feeling he never thought he’d experience with Florence. The worst case scenario played out in his head as he watched on — he would have to tell her family, her kids, fuck, who wants to tell a bunch of kindergarteners their teacher died? He let himself wonder briefly what song she would want played and that’s when he broke. A sob worked its way up his throat, his bottom lip quivering. 

“Hey,” Sam’s voice came again, softer this time. “She’s still here, Buck. She’s gonna fight and you gotta be strong for her.” 

Bucky nodded, sure Sam could probably see him somehow, and wiped his eyes just as a medic approached him tentatively. 

“Sergeant, we have her stabilised but we need to leave now, are you coming with us?”

“Yeah, yeah” He whispered, clearing his throat. “Sammy,” 

“I’ll see you two in a few Buck, we’re not losing her. That’s a promise.” 

Sam’s voice faded into static as he disconnected on his end and with that Bucky took out his earpiece with a disheartened huff as he made his way to the med-evac. 

When they reached the van’s double doors he paused, taking a deep breath before the agent next to him spoke. 

“Sir, we’re not too far from base and we’ve got her covered until we get there. Would you like to ride alone with her in the back?” The blonde smiled sympathetically as he raised his eyes from the road to meet hers. 

“Is that safe? I don’t- I need her to be okay,” 

“I can jump back if needed but she’s stable for right now. She does need to go into surgery as soon as we get to base, so you know,” 

“As long as you save her, anything.” He whispered before adding. “I apologize for my outburst, agent.” 

“Understandable. I hope you don’t mind my saying but, I think we can all agree you’ve lost enough in your life already, Sergeant. We’ll do everything we can.” 

Bucky nodded, holding back tears as his heart clenched tightly in his chest before stepping inside the cabin, settling gently in the bench beside the stretcher where his entire soul lay still.

He could make out a thick bandage secured with tape over Florence‘s shoulder, her arm bent and held by a makeshift sling. 

“You can grab her hand if you want to. Show her that you’re here by her side,” the medic suggested but Bucky hesitated.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt her,“ he mumbled, struggling more and more to hold back the tears that made his vision blurry. He needed her to be safe in an OR at the base before he would let himself fall apart. 

“You won’t. She’s a fighter, that's for sure.” the blond smiled again. Bucky reached out a shaking hand and grabbed Ren‘s small one in his. He’d done that thousand times before but today everything was different. His thumb brushed over the top of her hand before he pulled it close and placed a tender kiss on each of her knuckles.

And despite his best efforts, in this moment Bucky let the emotions break him. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he breathed “I love you” and “Please don’t leave me” shakily on her skin over and over again.

By the time they’d arrived at the base and whisked Florence into surgery Sam had landed. He stalked over to Bucky, his wings still in the process of folding, and wrapped the super soldier in his arms. 

Bucky shattered. 

He didn’t think he’d cried that much or that hard since the night that Ayo had taken him into the Wakandan bush. His friend murmured platitudes in his ear and stroked his back, holding him as tight as he needed to feel grounded again. It was only when Bucky’s sobs finally subsided that Sam let him go, leading him over to some hard plastic chairs that were bolted to the floor.

Bucky slumped into one, his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands, clutching at his hair in desperation.

“Why was she even there, Sam?” He asked weakly.

“I did some digging on the way over, called some people. Ren’s one of us, man. She’s an agent,” Sam said gently, leaning forwards to try and catch Bucky’s eye.

“I figured,” Bucky mumbled, his words almost slurring together, “but…but…how?!”

“Sleeper agent,” Sam tried to clarify. “Trained with SHIELD, and then reintegrated into society when it fell. Her job is legitimate, she is actually a qualified kindergarten teacher, but her backstory is…crafted and she’s called on when she’s needed for a job. Obviously this was one of those times,” Sam shrugged, looking almost as confused as Bucky.

"How the hell did I not know? For years?" Bucky muttered. 

"She's still Ren, Buck." Sam said. "What you guys had was still real. You know how this works." 

"She lied Sam." He glanced over at him, "she knew about me. Hell, she knows everything." 

Sam let out a sigh as he leaned back into the chair, "and you know how SHIELD is."

"I just don't get why she couldn't tell me. What difference would it have made?" 

Sam chuckled lowly and somehow Bucky knew exactly what he was going to say. 

"You can't honestly tell me that if you knew she was an agent, you wouldn't have pulled some over-protective bullshit every time she was called up on a mission?" 

"She's my wife, Sam. I made a promise to keep her safe. After everything, the least I can do is keep the love of my life safe. She had no back up in there, I would have seen them if she did." 

"Head over heart, man," Sam murmured, "it's the core rule of this job." 

Bucky huffed, eyes on the double doors that led to Florence. The waiting was unbearable, the longer he had to think, the worse his thoughts became. 

"That's a fuckin' stupid rule," he muttered, pushing to his feet when the need to move, to do anything but sit still, took over.

Bucky stalked to the double doors leading to the ORs before turning back to Sam. "Why send us separately to the same target with separate missions though? It's hard enough to accept Ren's an agent but," his voice wavered. Shaking his head, he stalked past Sam and towards the external doors.

"Hey man, where are you going?" Sam called after him, "Bucky, stop, Ren needs you here." He chased after Bucky and, placing his hand on his shoulder, his friend stilled. "You need to be here, Bucky. Ren needs you."

"I need answers Sam, I could have gotten her killed by bursting in when I did. Someone's fucked up big time and I've got to find out who!"

Any further argument was lost as the doors opened before them and a doctor appeared.  Both men eyed him warily and there was a moment of silence so profound that they could hear the subtle whir of the plates in Bucky’s arm as his fingers twisted nervously together.

“Doc?” He croaked, needing to know but not wanting to hear.

“Sergeant Barnes, your wife’s out of surgery. We cleaned up the wound and stopped the bleeding. We’re giving her medication for the pain and some additional blood but taken her off sedation. She should wake up soon.” He paused, seeing the incomprehension on Bucky’s face. “Your wife’s going to be ok, Sergeant.”

Bucky barely grunted his thanks before pushing through the doors behind the doctor in search of his wife.

His hand trembled against the door of her room, everyone seemed to disappear around him as he came to a halt. He could hear them talking to him, at him but none of it mattered. Ren was on the other side of that door and he wasn't sure he would ever be ready to face what condition she was in. 

As the adrenaline settled and his thoughts started to slow down the guilt and grief seemed to flood in. 

"Do you want me to go first?" Sam asked from his side, the only voice that cut through the static. 

"No," Bucky shook his head and inhaled deeply before pushing the door open and wandering inside. The faint beeping of machines and the smell of cleaning solution clouded his senses. Florence lay in the middle of the tubes and machines, so still it made his heart constrict in his chest. He hated it. "Oh baby," He sunk down on the side of the bed and rested his head against her hand, taking a moment to forget about his anger and frustration and to just worry about her.

Sam slowly made his way around the bed and rubbed Bucky's back. "I'm sorry, man," he murmured softly. "But she'll make it. Florence is one heck of a tough girl." 

Bucky raised his head and looked at her, she looked so small in that bed, and her face was so pale. Despite all the tubes and wires, the beeping of the monitors was kind of reassuring. "She has to put up with me," he responded, "but when she left the house this morning..." He gulped and shook his head again. "How did I miss this, Sam? Some fucking super soldier I am."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Buck," Sam replied quietly as he gave Bucky's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You good here? Or do you want me to stay for a while?" 

Bucky heaved a sigh, eyes never straying from Florence as the thought about his answer. He reached across the bed to brush a stray hair from her face, fingertips lingering. She had more colour in her face now, cheeks warm and pink, but Bucky still found himself begging for movement -- a flicker of her eyelids, twitch of her mouth.

"I'm alright," he breathed after a moment. "Can you stick around the base though, as soon as she's fit for transport I wanna get her back to the compound and I want you travelling with us." 

"Course, man. Give me a shout if you need me." 

Bucky listened as the doors swung closed and the room fell into an eerie quiet save for the beeping of machines and Florence's steady breaths.

Reaching up carefully, he wrapped his hand around hers, tangling their fingers together. "What the hell were you doing there?" He whispered to her, knowing she wouldn't answer. At least not right now. Confusion and anger wrapped around his insides the longer he watched her sleep. A thousand unanswered questions plagued his mind and only caused more tiny little fractures in his heart.

It confused to no end why she didn't tell him, why she wasn't honest with him about this part of her life. His wife almost never lied to him— intentionally or not. 

Didn't she trust him? Did she think this kind of a secret could be kept forever? What if—

The twitch of her hand in his cut off his destructive train of thought. Ren's eyes were flickering open and closed causing Bucky's heart to still as he willed her chocolate eyes to open and reassure him that she was okay. Her hand tightened only slightly around his fingers and her head turned slowly in his direction, the softest smile graced her lips as she settled again, eyes closed but her posture more peaceful.

"Just be okay," he whispered. Leaning in to pepper kisses on the hand cradled in his while tears stung his eyes.

"We'll figure out the rest."

Bucky sat in that room for hours, going back and forth on what he would say to her the moment she woke. The doctors came and went and his impatience grew with every passing second and annoying beep or question. 

He wanted answers, he wanted his wife. 

He didn't know what he wanted but he knew if Steve had been there he'd have the answer and that only made him more angry. He had moved on, he had worked so hard to find a person that could understand him the way Steve had and it felt like a lie. He knew better than to believe that, he trusted Florence with everything so short of her being assigned to him and their entire marriage being a ruse. Nothing she would say could convince him she didn't love him too. He had felt her love every single time she was near him. So patient and delicate as he worked through so much unforeseen trauma. 

"Come back to me baby," he whispered from trembling, exhausted lips.

Time dragged and the monotonous beep became the background noise to his cheek pressed to Florence’s arm, resting his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dozing when he heard it, the soft croak of a voice he’d been dreaming of somewhere above him. 

“Bu- Buck?” 

Bucky snapped his head up.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured as Florence tried to speak again, her eyes fluttering open.  “Shh. Shh, hang on, baby. Lemme get you some water.” 

He propped her bed up a little before guiding the straw to her dry lips. 

“I was shot,” she whispered once she was done. “Fuck.” 

Bucky chuckled, cradling her cheek delicately and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

"Stay still," Bucky admonished, "you almost died today." Florence closed her eyes and took a breath before looking at Bucky's hand on hers, she twisted her fingers to take his wedding ring and begin turning it.

"You weren't meant to find out this way, Buck. I never meant for this to happen."

He sucked into a breath and shook his head, his hand tightening in hers for a moment, "why didn't you tell me?" 

Her eyes found his and his heart dropped seeing the hesitation in her features. Ren's lips parted to say something before all that came out was a breath.

"Please tell me." 

He begged in a hushed tone, trying to have the patience to manage her fragile state while pushing away doubts and fears of his own. 

"This was the first mission I've been put on since we got married, Buck. I thought.." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip nervously. 

"I thought I was done with that part of my life. I told my superior that I was off the day we met, I didn't want to do that anymore." Ren continued, the words rushing out with the rising frustration clear in her eyes. 

He didn't understand. Bucky's eyes were searching her own but there was nothing but sincerity and anguish as Florence delivered the final punch to the gut.

"We met while I was on an assignment, and I just.. quit. Or so I thought." She mumbled the last part as her fingers dug into his palm as if willing him to believe her.

"So why this case? Why lie?" Bucky searched for answers to help make sense of her explanation. 

"It wasn't my choice," She moved uncomfortably, just trying to close the gaps between them. "I couldn't tell you and when they call," she stopped. 

"You go." Bucky knew that well, there was always another war to fight, another bad guy to bring down. It never ended and someone always came looking for help. It's not that he didn't want to, but he was tired and looking at Florence he had thought he found his haven from that. Someone who would never need him in that way but now... "I'm not mad you," he said. "I know it seems like I am but," he rolled his fingers over her cheek. "Tell me and don't lie to me. Was I ever a mission?" 

"No," she answered without hesitation. "Never. Not once, they never even tried to take that route. It's why I quit in the first place."

"It was never going to be easy for me, was it?" Bucky murmured sadly and Florence made a little wounded sound as she brought his hand to her lips. "Makes sense that I'd fall in love with someone whose seen just as much bloodshed as me." 

"Is that such a bad thing?" Florence countered. Bucky let out a shaky breath. "C'mere." Bucky scooted closer as she pressed soft kisses to his knuckles before turning his hand and kissing his palm. With her eyes closed, her long eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks and she looked every bit the angel she is. 

"I never wanted you to see that side of me, of my job, Ren. Not first hand, not like this." 

"I don't care, Bucky. I've always known who you are and what you do and I married you anyway. And besides, it was my job too. I knew I could have handled anything you decided to show me."

"You may not care, but I care!" His voice raised and almost broke. He pulled his hand away as he stood, the chair flew back abruptly and came to rest against the wall. Ren winced at his raised voice but knew with confidence that he'd never hurt her.

Bucky had begun to pace the room. "You're my angel, it's my job to protect you, to keep you safe...." His hands fisted his hair, "My whole world relies on the normality and routine of our lives...." He looked at her for the first time since he stood up. "This blows everything I believed we had out of the water."

"I'm still me!" She yelled, "I'm still the woman you fell in love with and I'm still the woman who is in love with you James Barnes." 

His face crumpled for a moment as he stared at her. 

"Now I am not throwing years of marriage away because of this. *I am not going anywhere*." Her brows furrowed as those big brown eyes looked up at him. Those eyes he tripped in the first time he saw her. Stumbling over his words, his heart racing with every moment she spared him and that smile. God that smile lit up every dark corner of his mind the first time he saw it. "Are you?" Her voice cracked softly as they watched each other. Both expecting to make a decision. 

Bucky let out a long drawn out breath and shook his head. "No."

A weak, teary laugh escaped her and Bucky's heart broke over the sound.

"Good. Because you're stuck with me," she announced. "One injured shoulder won't keep me away from you." She told him, trying to smile through the tension and tears pooling in her eyes.

He couldn't stay away from her any longer when she buried her face in her hands and started crying, the soft sniffling and hiccups coming from her had Bucky closer in a heartbeat, his arms enveloping the love of his life gently. Protectively.

"I'm telling them I'm out for good," Florence mumbled into his chest, her voice thick. 

"Are you sure? I know you said--" 

"Yes. Fuck, Bucky. I don't want to do this anymore. I wanted normal too, you know. I wanted to *be* your normal, your safe space. I want to keep coming home to you and telling you stupid stories about my kids, I want to keep having lazy weekends with you and late night grocery store runs." 

Bucky laughed wetly, pressing a kiss into her hair, careful of her shoulder as he held her tighter. 

"I want that too," he whispered, "just, no more secrets, sweetheart, I don't think my old heart could take it."

They sat quietly, as if counting their blessings, murmuring their wishes and promises for their lives moving forward, everything now out in the open.

They were interrupted by a rapping at the door and both of them turned as it opened. Sam poked his head through. "I was just checking in, Bucky..." he began. "Oh thank god you're awake, Ren, Bucky was out of his mind..."

"Is there any wonder?" Bucky retorted, turning back to Ren. "I thought I'd lost you for sure."

"I've told you, I'm not going anywhere, Buck. We're going to grow old together," Florence smiled, moving to sit up. "Ooh that fucking smarts."

"I'm sure you're due some more pain relief by now," Sam responded. "Let me go find the doc to sort you out, and start arranging  for the airlift home."

Bucky watched Sam leave before turning back to Ren. A soft grin spread across her face as her fingers traced along the edges of his scruffy face. "You know, seeing you in action was pretty hot." She said lowly. 

He laughed and shook his head. "Me? What was that outfit you were wearing and why the hell have I not seen you in it?" 

"That old thing?" She whispered, "was cheap and not my style." 

Bucky leaned down, bringing her hand to his lips kissing the inside of her wrist, "Could it?" 

Florence raised a brow at him with a smirk. 

"I mean when you're healed." He clarified, "You aren't doing anything for the next few weeks except bed rest." 

"It's a shoulder wound." Florence laughed at him. 

"And you are my wife." Bucky countered, "Which means I get to dote on you until you're better." 

Her hand curled around the back of his neck, tangling in the short hairs there, "I could get used to that." 

"Good." He said as he leaned into her, whispering against her lips before kissing her for the first time since he left home that morning, letting the monotonous beeping and horror of the day disappear until all that was left was them.

[stxrvel]

two strangers (1)

summary: when bucky rescues you, you didn't think there could be a more indecent person. but as the days go by, you realize he may have a chicken heart.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +6k

warnings: a lot of bad words and mentions of wounds and blood.

read this for some context! so fyi this is set in an alternate universe where mercenaries exist, but like a society, like john wick, and the avengers rescued bucky from hydra's control and all that, but he decided to keep his life in the mercenary side, taking missions to get rid of really bad people, and even though he isn't part of the society per se, he's very known by it but he doesn't care to join them.

note: hi guys! i decided to publish this in different parts, seeing that my inspiration had a big strike and yesterday i just couldn't stop writing. i think the updates will be weekly, but you'll know the exact date in the masterlist page. so i hope you like it! and know feedback is always appreciated! love you all 💜

Bucky never thought the rescue would be difficult. It was a huge house, three floors, a hundred windows and doors, with a garden that directly overlooked a wooded area. The walk to the entrance was not at all dissimilar to the ambiance of the whole area, as it was at least a forty minute walk through trees and bushes. There were about fifty people guarding each entrance and access, but Bucky knew that there would be a shift change at ten o'clock at night, at which time there would be about 25 people that he would have to face in less than 10 minutes to reach the target, and after that he would have just under two minutes to get at least ten kilometers away from the house and avoid being followed.

Except that Bucky wasn't riding the bike back to town and had a piece of a shirt pressed against the side of his abdomen from which blood was pouring out, while a couple of other bikes were following behind them and they could barely dodge the bullets.

Bucky knew he couldn't play with words again.

“Drive faster,” Bucky mumbled over the sound of the wind and bullets, barely able to hold onto the abdomen of the woman behind the wheel, whose name he couldn't remember.

“Fucking hell, I'm doing everything I can!”

Bucky peered over the woman's shoulder watching as the needle pointed to one hundred and ten kilometers per hour and raised his eyebrows. How that tiny woman was able to keep her balance and zigzag through the trees at that speed was a complete mystery.

While it was true that the bike had more speed, it was quite dangerous to increase it seeing the wooded road full of natural obstacles in front of them. So Bucky just pulled out of his right side the gun he always carried with him and started shooting at whatever he could aim at. Maybe that way he could get some leverage.

After a few minutes, Bucky began to make out the lighted streets of the city and was minimally glad that the rescue had not been a failure.

“When you take the road, turn right and then left, there you go straight ahead and increase your speed as much as you can.”

The woman barely nodded toward Bucky's words as she maneuvered through the branches and downhill slopes until she made it to the asphalt, and it was like falling off the end of a roller coaster. Bucky thought he had flown off the bike.

When the woman made the turn Bucky indicated and found a track that stretched along without a possible end, she accelerated so much that she was sure that, had she not had a helmet, she would have been out of eyelashes in seconds.

It didn't take them too long to lose the criminals following them and find the safe house where they would spend the night. Bucky felt his body still vibrating with the bike as the woman parked it in the subway parking lot. The walk to the stairs and what he rode inside the house was one big blurry moment inside his head as the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain throughout his body became more and more noticeable.

He barely remembered lying on the white couch, staining it entirely with blood and mud, and the woman in front of him trying to stop his bleeding.

-

You did everything in your power to stop the bleeding in the man's side. It was difficult, but you managed to get a halfway decent stitch and tried to disinfect it with what you found in the first aid kit in the house. You wrapped his abdomen with gauze and bandages as best you could and finally left him alone. He had fainted the moment you put alcohol on the wound with gauze, and you didn't know if it was because of the pain or the lack of blood. It was probably the latter, he looked like a strong guy.

A strong guy who had definitely underestimated his mission. Strong but his arrogance was a major flaw.

You had tried to arrange the whole room as you had found it, because you'd made a big mess carrying that man who weighed twice as much as he looked to the couch. In the end, cleaning up the blood was the most complicated thing.

You went to bed at dawn, after an exhaustive session in the shower. You washed your clothes by hand three times and then soaked them for at least an hour until you washed them again. You got clean clothes and changed when the first traces of azure blue began to adorn the sky.

But you stared at the ceiling for a while. Memories of what had happened in the last few days and years flooded your head and kept you moving your hands under the sheet. Restlessness, new friend. Reminiscing about it, the sound of bullets, the adrenaline rush and the blood of the man in the room almost kept you awake. But, at some point, out of exhaustion or pity, your eyes finally closed.

-

Bucky cursed, moving around the room. Trying to walk to the bathroom, he had dropped everything his hands had touched. And the pain in his side didn't make things any easier. He didn't know what the woman sleeping peacefully on the second floor had done, but it seemed the pain was sharper than yesterday.

As his body moved closer to the bathroom, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. The silhouette of the woman materialized in front of him, who was trying to climb the five steps that separated him from the bathroom.

“What are you doing? You opened your wound,” Bucky observed the woman's scowl with hair standing on end like a cat in the face of an imminent threat.

He watched her in slow motion and infrared as she tried to move closer to him, decreasing the distance between them and making it difficult for him to walk to the bathroom.

The woman raised her arms to touch him, but before she could do anything, Bucky threw a swipe. She staggered, and without a second's hesitation stepped away from him.

Bucky thought he saw a hint of fear in her eyes, but it had to have been a figment of his imagination, because the next moment she was only looking at him with annoyance.

“How surly.”

“Don't get in my way.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Standing in my way doesn't help me at all.”

“"You're bleeding again…”

“Fuck, I need to use the bathroom.”

The woman silently moved to the side. And Bucky barely glanced at her as he passed her and finally climbed the fifth step that separated him from his destination.

That was why he had stopped accepting missions like that. It was so much easier to just show up at a place to shoot someone in the forehead and then run away, he didn't have to spend days and days waiting to finish the mission. He could even do more than three in a single day, when the targets knew each other or were in the same place.

But, yes, even if it didn't seem like it, so much death at his heels was also a bit overwhelming if he was honest. He'd heard from other mercenaries, the ones who weren't so sadistic, that rescue missions were sometimes a respite to get back into the action again. Bucky had done it before, but there was always something that went wrong. And this time was no exception. Maybe he wasn't cut out to rescue people, to save them…

When he came out of the bathroom and made his way with great effort into the living room, the smell of bacon and eggs filled the room. Scattered on the dining room table were all the items he could find inside a first aid kit and there was also a bag with what appeared to be bloody gauze.

“I thought the bath swallowed you up.”

Bucky noticed when the woman came out of the kitchen wiping her hands with a white cloth. She was wearing different clothes than yesterday, white and neat, totally in contrast to the stained and dirty clothes he was wearing.

“Sit down. I need to check you over.”

“I'm fine.”

“Don't be foolish.”

Bucky shifted, willing himself to lie back down on the couch he'd woken up in. He vaguely noticed that on one side of the furniture was a bucket of water and bubbles and some sponges, one submerged and one over an edge of the couch that was bathed in blood.

“You do know there are people who clean these places?” Bucky spoke as he tried to find a way to sit down without having to bend over or exert too much force by bending his legs.

“No.”

“Well, now you know. Don't spend time cleaning these things.”

“It looks bad.”

“It's just blood… argh.”

Bucky arched as he made a very bad move and rested one of his hands on the back of the couch. He barely heard the woman sigh and then her footsteps approaching.

“No, no… I can.”

“God, what a stupid man.”

“What the fuck did you just-? Ah, ah, ahhhhh.”

The man hadn't even noticed when you came up behind him and pushed him to move before his head could process it. He fell noisily onto the couch and bit his lips to keep from moaning in pain.

“I like you better when you're quiet.”

Giving up the fight, Bucky let his body fall against the backrest and dropped his limp hands on either side of his legs. With his eyes closed, he heard a flutter of things on one side of him and guessed that the woman was digging through the things she had placed on the table. He barely had any memories of the night before when they arrived and most of them included a terrible pain that drove him into unconsciousness.

"Well, let's see…" the woman mumbled to herself and Bucky soon felt her hands moving over his bandaged abdomen.

It was instinct and he couldn't stop his left hand, metallic and dulled by the bloodstains that spread over his body, from clinging with superhuman strength to the wrists of the woman who had only intended to tend to him.

Even with his eyes closed, he heard her gasp in surprise and felt her tense in front of him. Her small hands, which had not the slightest chance before his exorbitant strength, stirred under his grip in slight movements. Without seeing her, he could tell she was so frightened she didn't know if she should keep shaking or stay still.

Bucky opened his eyes to realize that his instinct was right. The woman was pale with fright.

Sighing, the man loosened his grip until finally releasing her.

The woman fell backwards on the floor trying to get away from him.

That was the look he was used to seeing on all his victims.

Turning his head away, Bucky cleared his throat.

“Ask first next time.”

It was several seconds before the woman moved again. She had stood there, still and tense, watching him, waiting for any sudden movement to bolt. She moved closer to him on her knees, but not as close as she had been a few minutes ago. Her breathing was just beginning to become more leisurely until she finally seemed to have calmed down.

Bucky kept his gaze anywhere but on the small woman in front of him, who seemed to fear she would be swallowed alive.

“I'm going to-”

“Yes.”

That time, when the woman moved her hands back to the bandage around his abdomen, Bucky tensed, but kept his instincts to himself. He knew the woman had sensed that moment of hesitation, because she almost moved her hands away, but came closer again when nothing happened.

Thus Bucky allowed himself to be attended to, until he fell back asleep on the couch.

-

When the man woke up again, you had already eaten breakfast and finished washing the couch, except for the place where he was lying. You had also cleaned up the trail of blood he had left on the floor from the bathroom all the way back to the living room. You had tried to make everything in your reach neat, free of any mud or blood stains. And when you were done in the living room, you went to fix what was needed in the kitchen.

You were halfway through going to get your clothes when you heard him.

“Fuck, how the hell did you make it hurt more than it did before?”

You turned on your feet at the top of the stairs to see him as he leaned forward with a grimace.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to double stitch you if you weren't such a moron.”

“Double stitch? Does that exist?”

“I don't know!”

“You double stitched me?”

You shrugged. “Just in case!”

“Argh… No fucking way.”

Dropping his head on the back of the couch, the man brought his right hand over his forehead in a weary gesture.

“Whatever. I left you some hot water in the shower and a rag. Try not to get your wound wet.”

He lowered his head to look at you, but you hurried on walking to the cleaning room.

That man was scary. And it was much scarier that you were in an almost-abandoned house in a ghost neighborhood alone with him. The chances were that if you shouted, no one would hear you; or if you did and someone did hear you, they would prefer to keep on walking. That's how troubled the place you were in looked.

You were surprised that your brother had sent someone like that to look for you. At least he would have made a little more effort to find someone more decent. You had to crawl to get you both out of that wrecked house, when it should've been the other way around. As you folded your clothes, you wondered where your brother had gotten that man from.

You were heading back to the room when you heard a snort down the hall. Against the alarms in your head, you approached the hallway to see towards the back, into the living room, as the man had gotten up from the couch and had walked that way about seven steps with the goal of reaching the stairs. At the pace he was going, you wondered how long it had taken him to get there. And with the winces of pain he was making, you knew it was taking all his strength not to make sudden movements.

You sighed as you dropped your clothes on the basket next to the door. That man was going to give you green gray hair.

“Let me help you,” you spoke once you were near him, at the top of the stairs.

It really wasn't that many stairs, only ten steps were separating the man from that bathroom. You didn't know why that kind of platform was there, instead of just making a flat floor for the whole house being so big, but you couldn't judge an architect's decisions.

And yet, even though it was only a few stairs, it seemed like a hundred when you had a bullet wound in your abdomen.

When you started to descend, the man said nothing, just watched you intently as your feet went one in front of the other holding onto the handrail. His deadly gaze caused you to shiver slightly because he looked like a lion about to eat a gazelle.

Still, you stopped at a safe distance.

“May I?”

The man kept his gaze on yours for a while longer, as if he had to weigh every possibility in a short time. You wonder what he saw in you that he had to be so alert. You barely reached his chin, what could you do without him stopping you two seconds before? You didn't even have the option to think of anything.

So when he sighed, you realized he had given in.

-

Bucky took a pleasant nap on the bed in the master bedroom when he finished showering, if anyone could call what he had done a shower. He ran a washcloth with warm water all over his body, with the tiniest amount of soap and unable to wash his hair. The woman downstairs had offered to do it for him, but Bucky didn't even consider that possibility.

Still, he felt fresh enough to really rest for a while.

And by the time he awoke, moonlight was filtering through the curtains.

It was daring to get out of bed. But it was worth it when he reached the kitchen and the smell of meat made his stomach growl loudly. He hadn't eaten anything for over twenty-four hours. He hadn't even accepted the breakfast the woman made because he still felt as if at any moment he was going to vomit up to the air.

But at that moment… at that moment….

“Ah, you finally woke up.”

“How long did I sleep?”

“About twelve hours.”

Bucky moved his head to look at the clock above the entrance to the kitchen, and yes, it was already eight o'clock at night.

“How are you feeling? How's the wound?”

The man stirred when he heard the woman's voice nearby. She had moved until she reached the kitchen entrance, not a step more, not a step less.

“It doesn't hurt as much as it did before.”

“That's good,” the woman shook her head in a nod and walked back into the kitchen. “Sit down. You need to eat.”

Bucky obeyed silently, because dealing with food he didn't want to grumble. He heard the sound of dishes and silverware before the woman came out with two large plates in her hands. When Bucky saw what she had cooked, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“I hope you like meat,” the woman commented in a light voice, but at Bucky's silence she began to perspire. “I also cooked a vegan option if you-”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, moving his hands to grab the silverware. “I definitely like meat.”

Bucky didn't notice how the woman's shoulders relaxed as she watched him savor each thing on his plate nor how she kept her gaze fixed on him to make sure he didn't choke on how quickly the food was being stuffed.

And when they were both finished eating, the woman pulled out a bag that had been sitting on a chair and set it on the table, bringing it closer to Bucky, but not too close.

At the man's arched eyebrow, she said, “Medication.”

Bucky's eyes lit up, but he shook his head quickly.

“Why the hell didn't you give this to me before?”

“Because there was none before.”

Bucky frowned. “And where did you get this?”

As she answered, the woman got up to pick up the dishes and carry them to the scrubber. “There's a store about five blocks from here. I had some money so I bought it. It seemed necessary.”

The woman went to grab the silverware Bucky had used, not noticing the man's steady gaze on her, when his metal hand stopped her from taking the silverware away.

She unconsciously cringed at the sudden movement, and sought the man's gaze in alarm. Bucky felt such overwhelming anger make its way inside his chest that he didn't even think twice before letting his body act first.

“You did what?”

The woman sputtered a couple of times, like a fish out of water, before replying, “I just went for meds. So you won't get the wound infected.”

“You left this house alone? Are you out of your mind?”

Bucky raised his voice as he rose suddenly from his chair. His metal hand pulled the woman's wrist and slammed it against her chest in one violent motion. She barely managed to take a deep breath before tears welled up in her eyes.

“Do you even have any idea what I had to go through to get you here? And you're telling me you walked out of this house like it was nothing? Alone?!”

Still cringing at the tone of voice Bucky was using, the woman replied shakily, “But nothing happened. I'm fine…”

“Ah! Right! And how can you be sure that no one followed you here? How can you be sure that you didn't compromise our location?”

“I swear I took a good look when I left and arrived. There was no one… There wasn't… Please just... let me go.”

Bucky pursed his lips and took one more detailed look at the woman's contracted face. He angrily let go of her.

She didn't hesitate for a second to start up the stairs.

“Just take the fucking meds,” she spat from afar, and the next thing Bucky heard was the slamming of a room door.

Staring at the empty space through which the woman had disappeared, Bucky took a few seconds to calm his breathing and emotions. Now he had to make sure they weren't going to be ambushed by surprise while he slept and the two were distracted. He could go stay all the rest of the night in the camera room after placing a motion bomb over every entrance to the house… but he was too tired to do that, and he most likely wouldn't be able to find the necessary items in that house to make those traps as invisible as possible. The only thing he could do was to sit in that armchair with a shotgun in his hands and wait. Hope that it was true that no one had followed her.

Bucky sighed. Fuck, he had to learn to manage his attitude.

His eyes fell on the bag on the table and he felt the tiniest whip of guilt inside his chest. It disappeared as quick as lightning. He picked up the bag to rummage inside to find four boxes and a piece of paper.

He shook the bag on the table and the medications fell free. He grabbed the paper with a frown and the whip of guilt returned as he read what had been written in black ink:

“Stranger,

I'm writing this note to tell you how you should take these medications.

The blue one is to prevent infection, so you should take it every 12 hours.

The red one is for pain. If it hurts too much, take it every 6 hours, and if it doesn't hurt too much, take it every 12 hours.

Yellow is an analgesic, it will most likely put you to sleep. Take it when the pain is unbearable.

And the green box is vitamins. Take one after each meal.

These boxes will last for at least a week. Hopefully by that time the wound will have healed much more.

Take them judiciously.”

Bucky stared at that piece of paper as if it were to blame for all his misfortunes. In spite of everything, the woman did try to care for his wound, even if he did nothing but reject the support she gave him.

The sound of something similar to a bell brought Bucky out of the depths of his head.

It was the satellite phone.

Bucky moved to the kitchen, where the sound was coming from. There, beside the blender, was the phone. He wondered if the woman had used it before.

He picked up the device and held it up to his ear in silence.

“Barnes?”

“Jacob.”

“Fucking shit. Why are you answering until now? I've been calling for a while now.”

So she hadn't used the phone.

“I was asleep.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

The man on the other end of the line barely took a deep breath.

“Are you with her?”

“Yes.”

“And she's okay?“”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” the man exclaimed in relief. “When are you going to bring her in?”

“You know I have to wait at least five days before I leave the house.”

“Argh, yes, yeah, right. And have you two got enough? Food? Clothes? Has she eaten well? Have you seen her take care of herself?”

“She's fine. She's more than capable of fending for herself. Stop worrying.”

“It's easy for you to ask me that when it's not your family member who was kidnapped.”

Bucky twisted his lips. “Why are you calling me and not Alejandro?”

“He left early. Seems there was a problem with the New York headquarters.”

“Ah, the troubled mercenary society.”

“Yeah, you should have seen the look on his face from these brats again,” Jacob let out a short laugh that was not reciprocated by Bucky. “Well,” he throat cleared, “let me know if there's any news.”

“Okay.”

And Bucky hung up.

His gaze lingered on the white kitchen wall before returning his attention to the colorful boxes on the dining room counter.

Fuck he was going to apologize to the woman.

-

You were stunned when you woke up the next morning and breakfast was ready and there was no sign of the man anywhere near the kitchen. The same thing happened at noon and at night.

You wanted to meet him somewhere to thank him, but at the same time you wanted to never see him again. However, what you thought about most was his wound and that you should've changed his bandage more than six hours ago. But the man was nowhere to be found. He would only show up to cook something and then vanish.

Still, you tried to comfort yourself with the thought that he had taken the gauze and bandages, because you couldn't find the first aid kit anywhere either.

At some point you thought that would be a good thing, not to find him even by accident for the rest of the days you had to spend in that house. You didn't think you would be able to keep up with his temper, clearly driven by emotions he couldn't control. You'd better take that time to take care of yourself and try to process everything that had happened instead of continuing to repress it, as always.

But… every time you tried to think about what had happened, what it had been like to be in that mansion in the middle of the trees, in the middle of nowhere, a suffocating sensation would make its way from your stomach to your chest and throat, and suddenly you felt short of breath. You couldn't spend more than a minute trying to cope with those emotions and memories you kept locked up in your memory because bringing them up made you feel like you were choking on air.

Maybe it was still too soon.

Yes, maybe it was.

It was already close to midnight when you finished organizing the kitchen. It seemed like the meds were kicking in if the man could spend so much time on his feet cooking and then washing dishes.

Remembering the anger that had sailed across his face the night before still gave you chills. You were trying to get that image out of your head.

You were on your way to the yard when you heard a sound down the hall. There were a couple of doors in that house that you had seen around but had no idea what was behind them, and now you were hearing a sound behind one of them.

Thinking of the man, you moved and walked to open the door, encountering stairs descending to the left and a light at the bottom of the stairs. The sound repeated, and with the door open you could also identify music.

You carefully descended and followed the hallway to the left after descending. Whatever it was you were expecting to see, a gymnasium opened up in front of your eyes. And in the middle of it all, the man, punching a large sandbag as if he didn't have a bullet wound in his abdomen.

You didn't know if you had made a noise or he had a sixth sense, but suddenly he moved his head and his eyes met yours. His expression denoted nothing but indifference and he promptly hit the bag again.

“You do know you have a large wound in your abdomen?” was the first thing you said as you stepped through the glass door.

The man didn't even turn around.

“You could open up the wound.”

“I've been here all day and nothing's happened to me.”

“Yeah, lucky you. Watch how you stretch to hit that.”

The man stopped to look at you when you got too close trying to see his injured side. Feeling prey to his intimidating stare, you backed up a few steps.

“Check it out if you want to so badly,” he turned around to face you and raised his arms waiting for you to come closer. You had barely noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

“No. Did you change your bandages?”

“Yes. The wound is fine. I haven't even had to take the pills.”

You frowned at him as he went back to focusing on his sandbag. “Not even the vitamins?”

The man gave you a sidelong glance before striking again.

“Oh, c'mon,” you exclaimed in annoyance. “At least make my act of recklessness worthwhile.”

His gaze traveled to your face again, his expression incredulous and somewhat angry. He shook his head as if he didn't credit your words and went back to focusing on his blows. One after another. One, two, three, four.

“It really doesn't hurt?”

This time he hit the sack so hard with his metal arm that it flew off and crashed against the wall in a thud.

You barely cowered in place.

“Take off the bandages so you're sure.”

Again he turned his body toward you, his posture nonchalant even though his features were hard, like polished marble.

“Stop,” you raised your hands, “I'm sorry.”

The man sighed, lowering his shoulders for the first time at will. The only times you had ever seen him relaxed had been when he slept.

He began to untangle the bandages around the knuckles of his right hand as he approached the sack he had pushed out of its holder.

“What's your name?”

“Huh?”

“Are you deaf?” the man turned with a frown, but quickly turned away taking a deep breath. “What's your name?”

“Uhm… Y/N. Didn't you already know that?”

“Yes. But I'd forgotten.”

“Ah.”

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“I'm not used to… whatever it is you do,” he waved his hand vaguely as if trying to clarify a point.

“You mean help you?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Don't you get help very often?”

“I work alone. That's what I mean.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Well, anyway. I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. I shouldn't have lost control.”

“Yeah…”

“And you shouldn't have gone out on your own like that. Don't ever do that again,” his accusing index finger pointed at you.

“Okay. I'm sorry.”

He sighed and turned around again to look at the sandbag on the floor. He had already removed his bandages and his knuckles looked somewhat swollen, the red color standing out against the olive of his skin. If he'd been like that all day, he must have at least some pain in that hand. You frowned watching him there, not moving.

He couldn't bend over.

Maybe he wasn't so sincere in saying it didn't hurt.

“I can lift it,” you spoke before you even thought it through.

The man, whose name you hadn't asked yet, turned to look at you with an ingrown eyebrow. You tried not to think too hard as he swept his eyes over your figure and then looked back down at the sandbag on the floor, probably taller than you and certainly heavier. But you could do it. Besides, you couldn't allow him to make that effort if there was a chance of once again opening up the wound.

When he took a step back and turned to look at you, your palms sweated. Maybe you really couldn't…

No, you could. You definitely could. It was a piece of cake.

Under his watchful eye you approached the sandbag. You looked at it with narrowed eyes, like your nemesis. You moved your arms, wanting to loosen your shoulders a bit before overexerting yourself lifting the thing, and at that moment you heard a short, thinly disguised laugh through a cough.

When you turned to see him, he kept coughing like it was nothing and turned to walk to another side of the gym.

Ha, how funny.

You turned around to focus on your task and, well, it was crunch time. You felt so determined to shut him up that you didn't even think it was the first time you'd seen an emotion other than indifference and anger in him.

You hugged the sack and gathering all your strength you moved back.

Nothing moved.

You tried again.

Nothing.

You snorted as you stood up for the fifth time and saw that the bag had barely moved less than a foot from its initial state. You rounded the object and sat down in front of it. You swung your legs over and planted your feet on the side of the bag and began to push hard.

You could move it. Not much, but you could move it.

You kept doing it until it was under the support where it had been hanging before the man's anger sent it flying. You put your head up and realized that the support was too high for you to push the bag up. It was impossible.

“Leave it,” you heard the man say.

You found him across the gym in front of you with a bottle in his hands. He took a big sip as he watched you in amusement.

Then, without a word, he moved a little to his left and pressed a button on what appeared to be a joystick. There were many other small buttons and levers that you had absolutely no idea what they could be for in a gym.

Then, you heard something over your head. You watched in amazement at what the man's button was doing.

The bastard had let you try to do something he knew was impossible for you to do, knowing that there was a stupid button that could do it for you. From the back of the gym, a sandbag was moving from the ceiling to where you were, guided by the mechanical system above your head. You barely noticed then that, in the shape of a circle, there was a kind of rail along which the brackets hanging from the ceiling moved.

You wanted to choke someone.

When you looked back at the man, he had his lips cocked in a smug smile. Damn him.

“I'm not going to offer to do anything for you again,” you exclaimed as you stood up and proudly decided to walk out of there with what little dignity you had left.

“Oh no, you should keep doing it. It's very entertaining.”

You stuck out your middle finger at him as you walked in the direction of the exit without turning to look at him. You heard more real laughter when you were far enough away.

-

It was quite late at night when Bucky came out of the gym. It had only been a few hours since you had left and he thought maybe he should follow in your footsteps and go rest, but for some reason he decided to stay a while longer.

On his way out, he saw the sandbag on the floor again and was too surprised by the urge he had to crack a smile. But he restrained himself.

In the house the lights were still on. It was almost midnight. Bucky had prepared dinner with the goal of getting you to eat and go to bed, because it seemed that every time you ate you had to go to sleep afterwards, even if it was just a short nap. But it looked like that wasn't going to be the case this time.

When he came into the living room he found you lying on the big couch in front of the TV on. Some news channel was playing in the background and it looked like you were deep in concentration listening because you didn't move when he approached.

“What are you doing awake still?” Bucky spoke with a frown before he could repent. “It's almost-”

You were asleep.

Bucky stopped at the side of the large piece of furniture when he saw you with your eyes closed and hugging one of the cushions, with half a sheet over your legs. Of course, it was going to be weird that you were still awake.

Bucky had always seen you walking, alert, moving around, always looking for something to occupy you. Your moments of rest were always away from him. However, looking to the front where the glass table was, Bucky quickly noticed the rag on the table and a small bucket on the floor.

So even all tired out you had been looking for something to do.

Bucky sighed shaking his head.

He took the rag resting on the neatest glass he had ever seen, along with the bucket filled with soapy water, and carried them to the laundry room where he put everything back in its place.

When you returned, you had shifted on the couch and looked like you wanted to find a position to stretch out because your body was more tilted than before.

Bucky turned off the TV which had low sound and stood in front of you on the couch.

He couldn't carry you to the bed without risking too much force that would compromise his injury and seeing how worried you had been about that earlier, he preferred to avoid straining too much. For some reason, he had the feeling that you would prefer to sleep on the couch if it would keep the wound in his abdomen from opening up.

So, he opted for the safest option. He brought down some pillows from the master bedroom along with another larger, thicker sheet. He planted himself in front of you thinking about the best way to accommodate you so you wouldn't wake up sore, although the cushions on that piece of furniture weren't as hard as the ones in the dining room.

Finally he opted to follow the direction your own body was taking. He nestled a pillow over the armrest of the couch, punching it and molding it until it looked comfortable enough. Then he ran his left hand carefully down your neck and his right hand circled your shoulders until it reached your back. He moved you slightly forward keeping you stable and then began to let your body slowly fall onto the couch.

When you were lying flat, he gently pulled his left hand out and stood up. Quietly and very carefully, he removed the small cushion you were hugging, and before you could make any grimace, he rolled a larger pillow between your arms. Bucky watched you sigh in contentment.

Finally, he pulled back the small, thin blanket between your legs and arranged the large sheet he had brought that almost doubled as a bedspread. It would probably get you warm in a few seconds, but that was good, because the nights were cold in that house.

Finished with his task, Bucky nodded to himself.

It was only after he finished that he really realized what he had done. He frowned, watching your placid face as you rested comfortably.

Why had he done that, without even a second thought?

Bucky suddenly felt the need to run away. Now he wanted to undo all that because tomorrow you would wake up and surely ask questions he wouldn't know how to answer. That he wouldn't want to answer. Maybe he could play dumb and say that's how he'd found you when he'd left the gym. Surely you'd been so drunk on sleep that you hadn't even realized what you'd done.

Maybe that had happened to Bucky. Maybe he'd been so drunk on exhaustion that he hadn't realized what he was doing until he'd done it. Yes, surely.

Inside his chest he again recognized the feeling of guilt he'd had when he saw the paper you'd given him with the pills, and that only increased as he remembered he hadn't taken a single one.

It was guilt that made him move like that.

Yes, that was probably it.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Musings-of-a-rose's Fic Recs

Musings-of-a-rose’s fic rec list (never complete and always adding!)

This will always be a work in progress, as I will always be adding fics! 

If you need more and can’t wait for me to update, you can search on my blog for #fic rec and all of them will come up!

Frankie “Catfish” Morales:

Fix You by @astoryisaloveaffair

Howl by @astoryisaloveaffair

My Drug is My Baby (age gap) by @astoryisaloveaffair

Run Through the Jungle by @astoryisaloveaffair

The Bachlorette AU by @icanbeyourjedi

Sex Worker Frankie AU by @prolix-yuy

Still of the Night (Signs/Triple Frontier mashup) by @foli-vora

Trustworthy by @need-a-fugue

The Candyman by @hopeamarsu (this is a series but I’m linking chapter 1 here)

Oberyn Martell:

Burning Bright by @tropes-and-tales

And So We Sing in Elegies by @haildoodles-writing

Pero Tovar:

My Mercenary Bold by @astoryisaloveaffair

Petrichor by @rainontherooftops

Cathedrals of Our Own by @haylzcyon

The Cross by @blueeyesatnight 

Safe Haven by @marvel-and-mischief

Wedding Night by @absurdthirst

Zach Wellison:

You’re So Classic by @chaoticgeminate

Inn Over Your Head by @javierpinme

Max Phillips:

Take the Pain Away by @icanbeyourjedi

Dave York:

Baby, Let the Games Begin by @wyn-n-tonic

Maxwell Lord:

Shutterbug by @lowlights

What’s Love Got to Do With It by @storiesofthefandomlovers

Din Djarin:

Healer by @bestintheparsec

Marcus Pike:

Our Last Christmas by @supernaturalgirl20

Javi G:

Insatiable by @javierpinme

Hush by @javier-pena

Agent Whiskey:

Harder to Hold by @brandyllyn

The Traveler by @silksaddle

Marcus Moreno:

Yo Te Prometo by @marvelousmermaid

Here Without You Now by @wyn-n-tonic

Javier Peña:

Better Love by @disgruntledspacedad

It Takes Two by @icanbeyourjedi

Self Sacrifice by @albertasunrise

Into the Dark by @juletheghoul

Hermosa by @keala on Ao3

Joel Miller:

Days of You and Me by @wyn-n-tonic 

That’s a Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic

Dieter Bravo:

Disturbia by @astoryisaloveaffair

Win a Date With Dieter Bravo by @icanbeyourjedi

Simulated by @prolix-yuy

Teacher Ben (SNL):

Love, Wings, and Football by @icanbeyourjedi

Rainy Days by @chaoticgeminate

Well Read by @wyn-n-tonic

The Thief

Enigma by @javier-pena

Tim Rockford:

Apple Pie America by @rainontherooftops

Jay Castillo:

The Wedding Date by @icanbeyourjedi

Triple Frontier Boys:

The Audition by @astoryisaloveaffair

Santiago “Pope” Garcia:

The Best of Us by @a-bang-for-your-bucky

Benjamin “Benny” Miller:

I Got Away With You by @mermaidxatxheart

I’ll Be Your Brightside by @dameronscopilot

Only You by @albertasunrise

Timing Is Everything by @theewokingdead

Benergy by @theewokingdead

La Primera Fiesta by @marvelousmermaid

Looking For You by @green-socks

Commitment Issues by @coweye

Sunshine State by @brewsterispunkk

William “Ironhead” Miller:

Return to Honeymoon by @carni-val

Bucky Barnes “Winter Soldier”:

Paint Me a Memory by @mermaidxatxheart

My One and Only by @mermaidxatxheart

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

Poe Dameron:

The Bet by @no-droids

The Art of Falling by @brandyllyn

Clint Barton “Hawkeye”:

Sure Shot by @astoryisaloveaffair

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range):

Sacred Oasis by @wyn-n-tonic

Selfish by @dameronscopilot

Lessons by @wyn-n-tonic

Tommy Miller (The Last of Us - HBO):

That’s a Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic

I’ll Have Another by @wyn-n-tonic

Violent Delights, Violent Ends by @ay0nha 

I Need You to Tell Me I’m Good by @psychedelic-ink

[papipopsicle]

MERCENARY PART THREE

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Enhanced!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: In which Hydra never seems to give Earth's Mightiest Heroes a break, and while dismantling every known base, they find a weapon. In which this weapon is a young woman whose known nothing but the life Hydra gave her, and a certain super soldier becomes protective of her from the first time they lock eyes. AU AWAY FROM IW&Endgame, ALSO THERE ARE X-MEN

Warnings: swearing, reference to scars

Song: Punching Bag by Palaye Royale

Words: 1.6K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

"Stark Industries and and the Wakanda Outreach programme has helped thousands of mutants and inhumans, why don't we just hand her over to them and be done with it?" Kitty Pryde mulled over the idea, rolling her eyes as the clock ticked over into the third hour of bickering.

Y/N's sedation would wear off within the next half hour and the team were still yet to come to an unanimous decision on what to do with her. She was currently fast asleep on a comfy bed inside a room which restricted the use of her powers- but she didn't know that yet.

Bucky had tried his best to remain objective, but as he watched the large monitor streaming footage from her room, he couldn't help but be reminded of the girl he watched grow up into a woman and how he'd already missed four years of her life.

"I'll monster watch tonight, James." Y/N hummed, playing with a small flame at her fingertips. She looked over her shoulder and found him watching her with worried eyes, yet she just smiled, "You haven't slept for three nights in a row now. Trust me, they'd hurt you a lot more if you fail your mission tomorrow than they will if I'm a bit grouchy. Sleep, moya lyubov."

"She'd still be a great addition to the team," Tony sighed, standing up to stretch his legs, "and by team I mean the Avengers, I don't even know why you're here quite honestly."

Kitty flipped him off before storming out, probably going to find Charles or Raven to vent to them about how much Stark pissed her off.

Natasha leant over the table, eyes not moving from the tablet in front of her, "Is she like you were, Barnes?"

Bucky tensed and looked at the redhead, "In what way?" He asked slowly.

Nat glanced over at Tony before finding the super soldier waiting for her response, "Did they manipulate her mind and create triggers that'd turn her into a murder machine? Is she at all loyal to Hydra?"

"Come on, you saw her earlier, Nat, Y/N had tried to escape that many times they had to chain her up." Steve tried to reason as he saw Bucky's flesh hand clench up.

"We should consider every possible angle though, right?" Bruce spoke up from his seat towards the back of the room, propping his glasses on his nose and taking a better look at the security footage, "She seems harmless, but-"

"She is harmless." Bucky stressed, "Sure, when you look at her file you see a genetically engineered super-assassin with elemental powers, but not one day passed without trying to escape or planning our next escape. And okay, fine, she enjoys violence, but Hydra conditioned her to be that way and she's never had anyone to tell her otherwise. At the end of the day, she's scared- and I don't want her waking up alone."

The soldier felt Steve's hand squeezing his shoulder in comfort, but it felt cold and the sentiment felt short. Bucky watched each pair of eyes fall away from his sight and their voices stayed silent. He shook off Steve's hand and left the room, making his way down to the supervisory level. He looked down at the small piece of technology in his hand, matching the number to the cell like room and entering a six digit code into the keypad from memory. A single second later it pinged and the lights turned green.

The one armed man stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Y/N's healing figure peacefully sleeping. It was a sight to behold, even in tattered clothes and a thick layer of grime and dust covering her, she was anything but a weapon. She was soft and even delicate to the eye, resting as if her mind wasn't plagued with the tortured souls from her past.

Bucky sat down on the cool wooden floor, crossing his legs like he used to at the age of eight, playing tic tac toe with a small Steven Grant Rogers. Those memories didn't feel much like his own, more at peace with the ones of war he shared with Y/N.

"Stop pulling your punches, their hands are worse than yours." Nineteen year old Y/N warned James with a sharp whisper. His flesh knuckles were scorched from her most recent attack, goaded to use her powers by the watchful handlers. Metal collided with bone and he knew on impact two ribs had fractured, a further one would bloom with bruises soon enough. Training was often more taxing than the missions themselves, bored Hydra agents pulling on puppeteer strings to ensure they put on a good show.

Y/N estimated another ninety minutes had past before her handler pulled her away for healing observations, for research rather than well-being purposes. It wasn't long until she found herself flung back into the dingy cell with a kick to the back of her knees and an expired first aid kit thrown to the ground beside her.

Once the door cranked shut, James knelt beside the stoic woman he knew was hurting so deeply within. He collected any supplies for sterilisation and allowed Y/N to collapse under his touch. She curled into his chest as he cleaned the wounds he caused, burnt knuckles stung from the movements but that was numb compared to the torment of seeing her in pain.

James was past the point of blaming himself for any injuries Y/N incurred from training and vice versa, too much of their precious time had already been taken away in arguments of how much the other was not at fault. Hydra allowed them one hour a day together, usually after training, to decompress and recover and mostly hold each other. Y/N had a knack for sneaking out of her cell to be with the super soldier, it took more time stopping her, punishing her and hauling her back than their current routine. Teamwork on missions became more efficient, so they were allowed their hour of peace unless it became a weakness.

That was when Y/N was most aware of time passing by, fingers habitually running over the rigid scars between metal and soft flesh as a reminder James was entirely real. He watched between the fire dancing in her free hand and the peace within tired features, her own eyes burning bright at his constant touch. The hour would soon be up, and there was no fight to leave each other other than the lingering fingertips as they were pulled apart.

"You cut your hair-" Y/N's gravelly voice was cut off with a harsh array of coughs, spluttering dust from her cell's destruction stuck in her lungs. She squinted at the bright sterile lighting, everything in the room intensely white with the exception of Bucky and his all black clothing sat at the bottom of her vision.

He dialled the lights down noticing Y/N's discomfort and handed her an unopened bottle of mineral water. Her eyes carefully surveyed his movements, not considering him a threat as she chugged the liquid gratefully.

"Do you like it?" He asked after a few seconds of silence had filled the air, taking a seat at the side of the mattress apprehensively. Four years had passed and although he trusted the woman he thought was dead with his life, she was indeed alive and Hydra could do a lot of damage in much less time apart. He had so many questions, so many missed touches longed for and so little worry that she was no longer his Phoenix.

Even with grime covering her from head to toe, Bucky couldn't take his eyes away from her as she scrunched her nose playfully and answered, "I'll miss your long hair, but this suits you- you look like a person."

Unlike Bucky, whose memories were fuzzy around the edges, for better or worse Y/N held all of hers. She remembered cutting his hair short for a mission the once and wishing Hydra wouldn’t let it grow out again. But seeing him this time was immaculate- he was his own human, and she looked to the dirt and disheveled clothing on her person and knew she wasn’t. Purely what she was engineered to be and not a thing more, a biological weapon owned only by Hydra.

Bucky sensed the mental downward spiral as she scanned herself, brows knitting together and tears welling threatening to fall.

He corralled her away from those cataclysmic thoughts with a cool touch to her hot fingertips, metal thumb running across the back of her hand soothingly. “It took a bit more than a hair cut, but the days I feel like a person outweigh the days I don’t. And we’ll get you there too.”

“Can I start that tomorrow?” Y/N pouted and lay against the plush pillows behind her head, content with the sounds of metal whirring against her skin that only super soldier hearing could pick up on.

The team, fewer members left in the conference room, watched the interaction from the projection. A few more words were shared before Bucky lay down beside Y/N, both infinitely still but continuing the motions on their joint hands. Steve’s chair rolled back a few inches as he eyed Tony, “Listen, I can already see Bucky following if we send her off somewhere, we’ve got to at least try re-humanising her.”

“Great, we adopted another murder machine- when the first one gets lonely, at least now he’ll have company!” Tony held his hands up in defence when Steve didn’t appreciate his humour, “Alright, Cap. We’ll observe, give it a few days and get to work on project no murder and less machine.”

part four?

taglist: @kcd15 @killjoynotes

want to be tagged? comment or send in an ask x