#the people who were like ''and then they find bucky and bring him to avengers tower also'' were the smartest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imtryingbuck · 1 year ago

Text

Told you I’ll always come back

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: 4 years ago Y/n was Bucky’s fiancé and the team thought she betrayed them

Word count: 7,772

Warnings: angst. reader can teleport ~sorta~. reader also rolls her eyes like a trillion times. major character death. swearing. pregnancy. small mention of child birth. mention of cheating. tiny mention of sexual assault. mention of Sharon (I really need to get off the sharon-hate train) guns. gunshot wounds. sad all around

Translation: голубица - dove (if wrong please let me know)

Masterlist

When Fury rang her begging asking for her to come back for one final mission, she agreed with a condition, she’d bring her old team with her. Fury accepted.

That had been two weeks ago.

Landing back in New York brought back many memories, some good - some bad and some she wish she couldn’t remember.

“Hi can you take me to Avengers Tower please?” Getting into the cab she tried desperately to calm down her nerves.

The sky was a visual of her emotions.

Dull.

Standing outside the huge impressive building she felt like she was going to be sick. It’s been four years since she was last here.

“Hi I have an appointment with Director Fury at 12”

“That’s fine, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived”

“Thank you” She didn’t listen to Haley the receptionist, choosing to stand instead.

Fury came down not three minutes later with a small smile on his face. “I’ve missed you - no touching I know”

“Let’s get this over with Nick. Sooner the better”

The man knew not to try and annoy her anymore so he lead her to the elevators, going up.

Her stomach squeezed tight at the sight of her former team huddled on one side of the table, with their back to her.

“Take a seat” Fury whispered in her ear.

The moment that they saw her they were already shouting out their protests, she ignored them and listened to Fury by taking a seat to sit in.

“Calm down everyone. Now!” Fury slams his hand on the table causing everyone to fall silent. “Now, Y/n has agreed to help us with a missi-“

“We won’t work with her Fury.” Steve interrupts.

“You have no other option. No one else will or can help other then Y/n”

“We’ll just do it ourselves” Tony shrugs.

“No. This is happening, if none of you can play nice then you’ll be sacked.”

“You can’t sack us” Steve says with a scoff.

“I can and I will. Now Y/n I sent you over the details of what we’re up against, did you read it?”

“Yes”

“Your team, have you briefed them on everything?”

“Yes Fury, and yes they’re happy to help”. She rolls her eyes at Tony who mocks what she had just said.

“You said in the email that you’ve already paired people up from both teams, do you want to share it?” Like her Fury completely ignores Tony’s childish behaviour.

Sliding over a piece of paper towards her former boss and friend she continues to talk “When you see them in training and you don’t agree with my decision feel free to change it-”

“Oh we will do sweetheart”

Once again ignoring Tony “You said that my team will be allowed to stay here, in the tower?”

“Yeah Peppers done your rooms up herself, you should be grateful”

Turning her head towards the man she saw as a father figure not that long ago “When I see her I’ll give her my thanks.” Sighing she addressed the rest “You have a problem with me, so you will take it out on me. Not my team, but me. Do not think for one second that just because of our history together you can treat my guys like shit. They’re good, hardworking fighters. Fury we have two weeks to train for this mission and if I find out my team isn’t being respected or treated fairly I will not hesitate to pull them and myself out, is that understood?”

Fury’s eyebrow raise as he nods “I completely understand Y/n, welcome home”.

“My team will be here tomorrow at 12, I’ll see you then”.

“Don’t you want to know what room you’re going to be in?” Fury asked.

“No, I’m not staying here.”

“Where?”

“Not here. See you tomorrow Fury”.

Making a beeline for the elevator she takes her leave, it’s once she’s outside of the building she gasps for air.

After her shower and nighttime routine she climbs into bed, her head was throbbing but all she was hoping for was a good night sleep.

It didn’t happen.

“Tony splash me with water one more time you’ll regret it!” She laughs.

“What are you going to do huh?”

“I’ll-I’ll smash up all your vinyl albums”

“Okay okay I’ll stop”

•••

“Steve wait up I’ve only got little legs”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t you just carry me?”

“Nope, come on we’re nearly there.”

•••

“Y/n will you marry me?”

“Yes, Bucky I’ll marry you”

•••

“Natty get your bum out of bed”

“Don’t want too”

“Okay, I’ll come and cuddle with you”

“Yess!”

•••

“Y/n it’s an emergency come quick”

“Sam what’s happening?”

“Come!”

She walked in on Tony fast asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.

•••

“Wand I love you, I’m gonna marry you instead of Bucky”

“Y/n/n your drunk”

“I know”

“Why you sad for?”

“I don’t know”

•••

“Bruce turn into Hulk so I can beat him up”

“Why do you want to beat him up?”

“Because… leave me alone”

•••

“Thor guess what?”

“What?”

“Your so beautiful and I hope you so much happiness”

“La-Lady Y/n,give me a hug”

•••

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of-

Gasping for breath, she sat up in bed. It’s been almost two years since she last had a dream turned nightmare about her former team.

The red numbers on the clock stated it was 4:33 in the morning, laying back down she grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, there was no way she was getting any more sleep now.

Getting to the Tower a little bit earlier, she sat in her car waiting for her team to arrive. An hour later a text message popped up from her colleague and confidant stating they had arrived she got out of her car.

Greeting them all and introducing them to Fury who said to her.

“You could of come inside you know”

“I didn’t want to” Leaving him to sigh in response.

Introductions between both teams were done and it was straight onto business.

“So what powers do you lot have then?” Tony asks.

“None. We’re all human, Marley’s a witch though” Douglas your closest friend replied.

“Oh. So why are you here if you don’t have abilities?”

“We follow Y/n wherever she goes”

“Why? She’s a tra-“

“Tony enough” Fury interrupted. “Now on to business, the organisation going by The Lords have been on our radar for quite some time now, recently they’ve been getting more cocky” Fury turns around to face the screen, image after image of buildings up in flames, innocent people covered in blood, dead bodies littering the streets were shown to them.

“We need to have them stopped. In just over two weeks they’ve planned to attack a government base, but we’re going to be taking the fight to them.”

“How?” Colleen - the woman who saved Y/n’s life ten years ago - asks.

“We’ve got their location-“

“Why don’t you just get them” Douglas nods his head to the team on the other side of the table “just to drop a bomb on the bad guys?”

“We need them alive so we can question them”

“Okay… but why all this man power?” Marco says.

“What is it with you lot always asking questions” Nat says with an eye roll.

Y/n sighed, looked at Fury “Marco has a point but I already know the answer, so I’ll be the one that fills him in. We should probably start the training, everyone knows what this missio-sorry I need to take this”. Getting up she answers her phone “Hi baby-“

Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her from the moment she sat down. Her hair is so much shorter than it used to be, it suits her. A long jagged scar went across her cheek was new, he wondered how it happened. Seeing her sit there hands placed in her lap, her shoulders tensed up and a blank expression on her face makes him conflicted on his emotions towards the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

His heart tinged with sadness when he saw the small incrusted diamond ring with two small love hearts sitting on her finger, the finger his ring for her use to take up residence.

He wishes he could take her hand in his so he could rub his thumb over her knuckles, just like he use to whenever she was in that position as he knew it meant she was uncomfortable.

But he knew she didn’t have the right to his affection anymore not after she betr-

His thoughts are cut off as she stands, bringing her phone to her ear, greeting the person on the other end of the line with “Hi baby”.

A scowl made its way onto his face. Not that he had any right to do so.

“How are you? And don’t say you’re okay because I know better love” Douglas’s rough Scottish accent comes from next to her.

“I’m… I’ll be fine Doug, the sooner we’re done with this the sooner everything will be okay”

“Yo-you don’t have to do this, me and the team will tak-“

“Don’t. Everything will be fine after I’ve done this Dougie, you and the guys will be fine.”

They sit in silence. Doug didn’t like the plan she was going through with but he’s known her for years and knows she isn’t going to change her mind.

After training with the Avengers Y/n left, despite Fury telling her to stay and have dinner with them. Douglas left straight after the awkwardness of dinner was done, and being the only person who knew where she was staying, he headed straight there.

She brought this house for her and Bucky to live in after they retired, which they both agreed would be just before they married.

The home was beautiful, four bedrooms with two bathrooms, a large living room, kitchen with a pantry off the side of it, dinning room, an office that she had already planned to turn into a man cave for him. Two car garage, backyard was huge with a beautiful willow tree - as soon as she saw it she knew she had to have the house.

Bucky never knew about the house, she wanted to surprise him. It never happened obviously, and with a heavy heart she rented the house out.

The previous renters contract was up a month before she got the phone call from Fury, and there was no way she was going to stay in the tower. So she went to the place she wanted to call home.

“Have you spoke to them?” Doug asked breaking the silence.

“Yeah, driving Fran up the wall”. She laughs causing him to join in.

“She loves them though” He chuckles.

Nodding with a soft smile, “You should get back it’s getting late, I’ll see you tomorrow”

“You’re right” Standing up he pulls her into a hug, kissing her forehead he whispers “Don’t push me away love, not now”

That night she had the same dream as the night before, waking up at the exact same time again.

A week had been and gone, training was going good for both teams; apart for her. None of the Avengers held back, her body throbbed and ached after each session.

Today was the only day where Fury had to step in, seeing Y/n struggle against Wanda’s powers, he had to stop it.

Wanda had Y/n pinned against the wall and slowly dragging her up it, the whole room went quiet. The Avengers moved closer to the redhead whilst Y/n’s team moved closer to her.

“Mar-Marley don’t!” Y/n managed to rasp out to her friend.

Marley though small was deadly, her powers being similar to that of Wanda’s “She’s crushing your chest!” She shot back.

“I-it’s ok-okay”

“Wanda put her down!” Fury demanded.

“No. She’s a traitor, she betrayed all of us”

“Wanda!” Fury started to get nervous for the woman being pinned to the wall.

When Wanda’s eyes shot towards Marley, Y/n grew scared. She didn’t want either one of them hurting each other. “Marl-Marley stop! T-that’s an or-order!”

“She’s hurting you. And she’s lying!”

“No she isn’t. She’s a traitor” Tony shouted.

“Admit it and I’ll let you go голубица” Wanda smiles.

Even with the pain of her chest being crushed it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the pet name slipping from her former best friends lips.

“Admit. It. Y/n.” Everyone aside from Wanda flinched at the sound of Y/n’s ribs breaking.

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to draw blood. She wasn’t going to give Wanda the satisfaction of seeing or hearing the pain she was going through. She held Wanda gaze, both women refusing to backdown.

“D-Doug…ge-get Marley out of h-here”.

She sees in the corner of her eye Douglas struggling to pull Marley with him. “If the little girl wants to play, let’s do it” Wanda says breaking eye contact with Y/n to look towards Marley.

“No! N-no don’t!”

“Admit it then Y/n, admit to your team that you’re nothing but a liar and a traitor” Wanda screams.

“It wasn’t her!” Fury shouted, taking in a shuddering breath afterwards.

“What?” Steve’s eyes bounce from Y/n to Fury.

“She wasn’t the one who betrayed us.”

“Liar!” Wanda screams again just as she brings Y/n’s body away from the wall, throwing her back into it.

“I’m not lying Maximoff! Now let her go!” Fury shouted.

“Sh-she betrayed u-us!” Y/n’s heart broke at the sight of the tears filling up in Wanda’s eyes.

“She didn’t lass.” Douglas says as he still struggles to gain somewhat of control over Marley.

The hold on Y/n was released as she drops to the floor gasping for air. Her team run straight over to her as well as Fury who looks over at the other team with disappointment in his eyes.

“I-I’m okay” Y/n mumbles before succumbing to the darkness.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dr Cho asks when she sees Y/n trying to get out of the bed.

“I need to le-leave”

“You’ve just had your breast bone fractured and several ribs broken Y/n. You need to rest”

“I’m leavi-“

“No you’re not love, you need to stay” Douglas speaks from the doorway.

“I-I need to speak to them, it’s six”

“You need rest soldier, come on I’ll even stay with you, it’ll be like old times ay?” He smiled softly at the woman he respected more than anyone.

“Bu-“

“No buts my sweet girl, back in bed now” He gives Helen a nod before climbing into the bed with Y/n. “Get some rest love, I’ve got you”.

The next day Y/n wakes up in an empty hospital bed. Removing the wires from her, she stands up and carefully puts her clothes back on.

She crept out of the room and down the corridor, knowing exactly where she needed to go.

Hearing the raised voices coming from the briefing room, she took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling.

“-your concern Scottie”

“It is when the witch tries to kill my friend”.

“Friend” Bucky scoffs.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“I see the way you look at her”

“Don’t be stu-“

“Doug stop.” Y/n says as she walks in.

“What are you doing here? Your meant to be resting”

“I’m fine”.

Marco pulls out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit smiling at the woman who saved his life time after time.

“I’m going to say what I have to say then I’m leaving, don’t worry Nick my team will still help”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be there, can’t exactly back out of a deal now can I?” Fury’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Bucky noticed Douglas tensing at her words.

Sighing deeply, she closes her eyes “Sit or stand I don’t care but here’s the truth- I was the one that did betray you. I’m not sorry either”

“Y/n stop lying!” Fury says.

“…fine. It was Sharon.”

“That’s a lie!” Steve shouts.

“No it’s not. You see Steve, she was fucking you but she wanted your best friend. She wanted me out of the way, I didn’t even know that you lot were branding me as a traitor until Hydra found me several months later. Oh and I also killed Sharon”.

The Avengers sit there searching their memories from four years ago, and sure enough everything they were told was by Sharon.

“Wait what do you mean you killed her?” Steve asks.

“I put a round of bullets into her head, she was there with Hydra when they came knocking” She shrugged.

“But th-then that means you didn’t betray us?” Tony wheezes out.

“I’m many things but I’m loyal to a fault”

“I’m so-“

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any apologies. Not from any of you. Fury I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you on the day of the mission.”

Leaving the room before anyone can say anything she heads back to the house.

*Four years ago.*

The nausea was driving her insane, she was on her way back from a mission with a handful of SHIELD agents who could hear her gagging in the back of the quinjet. Nothing was happening for her though.

“Talk to Cho and see if it’s something you ate or something” Lucas said to her as she came and sat down.

“Yeah I might”

And she did just that, getting off the jet she headed straight to medical bay. Telling Helen all her symptoms the nurse tells her to undo her suit and lay on the bed.

“What the hell is that noise?”

Chuckling “That’s a heartbeat, wait no there’s two. Look-“

“What? How?…What?” She always wanted to be a mum but Bucky thought he couldn’t have children because of what Hydra did to him.

“Two strong hearts, you’re having twins Y/n congratulations darling” Helen beams.

It’s only as she was zipping her suit back up she noticed the small prodding bump. Smiling she walks through the corridors subtly touching her stomach as she goes, reaching the common room she sees her friends - her family.

“Hey, where’s Bucky?” She’s asks.

“He’s in your twos room” Steve says with a smile.

“Okay thanks” Reaching the door to hers and Bucky’s room she didn’t realise that the team had followed her, with a smirk on their faces.

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of Bucky’s bottom half covered by the quilt moving back and forth and Natasha underneath him with her arms around his neck.

Natasha was the first one to see her, with a smirk playing on her lips she taps Bucky’s shoulder making him look at the doorway. His face completely void of showing any resemblance of emotion.

The team honestly expected Y/n to say anything, something, but not a single word comes from her mouth.

Instead she vanishes into thin air. The only sound for them to hear was her engagement ring clinking off the floor.

*Seven months after.*

Y/n did the most cliche of things, by moving to the middle of nowhere. She had a three bed cottage with acres of land.

It became her sanctuary. The one place she felt at peace, at home.

Most nights she didn’t sleep and if she did she was plagued by the images of Bucky in bed with Natasha. Tossing and turning throughout the night with silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the only thing that she had left in this world was her unborn babies and Roxy the fox that would come to see her every night.

At 8 months pregnant with the twins she was huge. She didn’t know what she was having, nor did she have a scan, which did sadden her. Luckily for her though the pregnancy was going smoothly.

It was turning ten o’clock at night on a Thursday, she knew something was wrong when Roxy hadn’t showed up. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, Y/n could feel the air changing - becoming toxic.

“Little pig little pig I know you’re in there” A loud rough voice came from outside.

“Whatever you’re selling I’m not buying” She shouted back.

“Not selling anything sweetheart, you’ve got something that belongs to us.” The voice says again causing her to roll her eyes.

Creeping as much as she possibly could with an 8 month pregnancy bump towards the window leaving her to mutter out a quiet ‘fuck’ as she sees the two dozen men outside, armed and ready for a fight. Rolling her eyes once again at the symbol embroidered on their chest of the suits they wore.

Hydra.

She hated that she just couldn’t snap into thin air, more than ever right now. She had tried it a few times - like the time she ventured out in public to go to the store, and she was standing there in the middle of isle three when she had an accident. The most humiliating thing she ever endured. Trying so hard to disappear even as she tried to helped the young woman who worked there clean up her mess.

Even after she left the store without her things she walked as fast as she could to the beat up jeep she had, trying desperately to get it to work, nothing happened.

For weeks after that event she kept trying but always failed. It had only happened once and that was many years ago now, it was when she was shot in the leg. Her emotions were all over the place, she was only fourteen. It hit her that it was because of the twins she couldn-

“Come on Y/n you’ve got no where to run, you’ve got no one to help you, just co-come out”. A new, familiar voice was now heard.

Y/n squinted her eyes thinking of a way to not only protect her babies but the woman who had been her friend for years, the woman who she thought and believed had been abducted by Hydra and was being used to get her.

“Sharon? What are you doing here? Long time no see huh”

“Y/n they promised that they won’t hurt us, just come out”.

‘Think. Think. Oi don’t kick me right now. Come on and think’ repeating softly to herself as she looked around the room. Of course her home was littered with all sorts of weapons and ammunition but she didn’t want to be the first one to shoot just incase Sharon got caught in the crossfire.

“You’ve got five seconds to come out willingly before we start shooting. We don’t need you alive little pig just need that special little thing you stole from Hyd-“

Sharon’s safety wasn’t a priority anymore, not now that Hydra thinks her babies belonged to them. He gets cut off with a bullet in between his eyes.

“Let’s go boys” She shouts as bullets zoomed through the air one straight after the other.

Bullets tore their way all throughout her home, destroying everything she had built for herself and her babies. Holes littering one side of the home.

“No no no not that vas- goddamnit!” She mutters as her favourite vase smashes into tiny little pieces. “Now it’s personal”.

One by one the sound of heavy gunfire became more quieter, until there was only two guns firing.

She grimaces as a bullet skimmed her cheek, she readied herself to shoot again when a bullet was fired.

“Y-Y/n are you hit?” Sharon shouts.

“No, it took you long enough to help out Shaz”

“I’m coming in okay”

Y/n moved away from her position, moving towards the fireplace mantle to pick up a photo of her parents that had been hit when the door came open.

“How did they get you? Are you hurt?” Y/n says with her back to Sharon. “I’ve missed yo-“.

A gun clicking from behind her stopped her words from coming out. Sighing with an eye roll she continues her task of trying to get the glass out of the picture frame. “What are you doing Sharon?”

“What’s so important about you? Why does everyone always want you huh?”

“Hell if I know, nothing special about little ol’ me it’s quite annoying really”.

“What was Simon talking about?” Sharon questions.

“Who the hell is Simon?”

“The leader, the first one you killed”

“Oh him, I’m not sure. Didn’t he tell you when he abducted you?” Y/n could see a glimpse of her friend through the broken glass, gun ever so slightly shaking as her arm starts to tremble.

“They didn’t abduct me, I’ve been working with Hydra for over a three years now.”

It took her by surprise hearing that “Fair enough” is all she says.

“Yep, I told the Avengers that you turned rat and was betraying them and they all believed it”

“Silly twats, aren’t they?” Y/n chuckles.

“Turn around. Slowly and put your hands in the air” Sharon demanded.

“And wave them around like you just don’t care” Y/n sings, as she slowly turned around and raised her hands.

Sharon audibly gasped and stumbled backwards “Yo-you’re pregnant…”

“No shit Sherlock”

“Whose is it?”

“Bucky’s but don’t tell him it’s a secret” She winks.

“You bitch!” The blonde screams “you’ve taken my life!” She starts to pace back and forth, eyes bouncing from the gun to Y/n’s stomach.

“Not yet I haven’t…” Y/n whispers.

“I love him you know! But no he wanted you, you had him and I had to settle for Steve. And now, now you’re having the love of my life’s baby!”

Despite the situation she was in Y/n couldn’t stop the sharp tang in her heart at the sight of the tears gathering in her friends eyes. But just to be a bitch she corrected the blonde “Babies, plural”

“Y-you’re having twins?”

“Yep”

Her throat tightened as she sees Sharon’s finger squeezing on the trigger, both sets of eyes shot straight to the gun as it jams.

It all happened so fast, Y/n grabbed the gun and using the handle to smack Sharon in the face, causing the woman to fall on the floor screaming in pain. Y/n walked past her to leave her home when Sharon’s hand wrapped itself around her ankle and pulled her to the ground. Sharon was up first out of the pair and was straddling Y/n back, gripping her hair in a tight vice she raised Y/n’s head before smacking it down. Again and again and again.

Sharon finally gets up kicking Y/n’s side in the process. “I’m going to do the thing I should of done years ago, you ruined my life-“

The blonde gets cut off when Y/n kicks her legs out from underneath her, causing her to fall back down.

“You’re fucking crazy you know that Sharon, Jesus”. Ever so slowly she manages to get up, her hands going to her belly “All this for a man? You’ve really lost your bloody marbles Shaz!”

“It’s Bucky! I love him” Sharon screams.

“Yeah well so did I until I caught him fucking my best friend!” She screamed back.

The pain and confusion flashed over Sharon’s face “No, your lying”

“I’m not. God I wish I was, but nope caught him fucking Natasha”

“He wouldn’t do that to me!”

“You? He was engaged to me, you absolute weirdo. Sharon just stop alright, it’s over I’m done. You want him so badly have at him! I don’t, I don’t want to fight you anymore, so please get up off my floor, stop crying and leave.”

She watches as Sharon picks herself off the ground, who then stops as they both hear that one sound Y/n had been dreading.

Her waters splashing onto the floor.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” She whispers to herself as she looks down at the sight.

With Y/n distracted she didn’t see Sharon standing fully or her running towards her.

The punch to her stomach caused her to stumble backwards, the punch to her cheek that had been sliced open by the bullet from earlier caused her to flinch. The pain in her abdomen intensified as she sees Sharon bending down to grab the gun.

“Told you I was going to end th-“ Sharon says just before she’s cut off with a bullet in between her eyes.

Whether it was because of the pain to her aching body or at the fact she was just made to kill someone she thought was a good friend, her finger wouldn’t stop pulling on the trigger.

Even after the gun kept clicking.

“Stupid bitch you could have just left but no you had to be a cunt” Y/n shouts at the dead body laying in her living room.

Dropping the gun, her hand went in between her thighs, bringing her hand back up her heart dropped at the sight of blood.

Slowly walking to find her phone she dialled the number of the one person she trusted more than anyone in this world.

“Hi love, we’ll b-“

“Doug I-I need you. Babies are comi-“ She cuts herself off when a scream tears its way out.

“We’re on our way!”

“H-hurry.” She says just as she drops the phone as she slides down to the floor.

Doug and Fran arrived as fast as they humanly could. Both of their hearts dropped to the pit of their stomachs when they saw all the bodies lying in her front yard.

Running inside they see the body of a blonde and Y/n, legs open as she births her baby.

“Love we’re here, Doug get towels quickly” Fran’s frantic yet soft voice says.

“I-it’s the second one” and that’s when the ringing of adrenaline fades and was replaced by a cry, when they look to the side they see the tiny body of baby number one.

Neither Fran or Doug moved as they watched their friend deliver her second baby. Neither one of them could wrap their heads around the strength Y/n showed time and time again.

It shouldn’t have surprised them really.

“T-this one’s a girl, what about the other one” Y/n asked, voiced laced with tiredness.

“A boy, he’s a beautiful baby boy” Fran smiles as she picks the still crying baby up, handing him over to his momma.

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Y/n’s eyes move from her babies to the couple in front of her.

“R-really love? You want to name them after us?” Doug asks with tears in his eyes.

“Of course, you’re their godparents after all”

*two months before Fury rings her*

Y/n makes her way through the busy streets with her head down. She can’t stop the eye roll when she notices the two agents following her.

Slowing her pace she waited for the inevitable to happen.

As the agents got behind her a black van comes skidding past, the sliding door comes open, a sack is placed over her head and she’s pushed in.

“Do you guys want me to act scared or what?”

“Shut up”.

“Feisty”

After a while the van comes to a stop and she’s all but dragged out of it.

When the sack was removed her eyes dart around, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she’s in an abandoned warehouse.

“Ah Ross, so good to see you. You know if you wanted to see me so badly you could have just called” She smiles at the man.

“Wanted to surprise you Y/n”

“Oh yeah no I noticed, I was so surprised I didn’t see it coming…notice the sarcasm?”. Her head tilts to the side at the sound of footsteps “Hi Fury”

The man gives her a curt nod “Y/n”

“Wanna tell me why I’m here?”

“We have proof that you weren’t the rat, you can come back to SHIE-“

“Absolutely not. I’m fine in doing what I’m doing now thanks, can I go?”

“Y/n you’re a mercenary-“

“It pays the bills” She shrugs.

Fury shakes his head at Ross when he tries to continue, “You didn’t seem so surprised when he mentioned a rat, why?”

“Bit slow aren’t you? Let me guess the one that betrayed you was…Sharon? Yep I knew, um three years ago? Yeah something like that”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Didn’t think you lot deserved the truth so, can I now go?”

“We need to tell the Aveng-“

“No. Don’t, look let’s just keep everyone thinking I turned rat okay? It’s the best for everyone.”

Both men look to each other before slowly nodding. “It’s so great to see you Y/n” Fury says as he tries to pull her into a hug.

Stepping back she puts her hands up “I don’t like being touched nowadays, so no touching but it’s great to see you too Nicky”

“I told you not to call me that. See you” He chuckles and making his exit.

“We need to talk Y/n” Ross sighs once the pair are alone.

“About?”

“Your old team”

Her heart stops.

“W-what about them?” She knows exactly what it’s about.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he looks at her with sympathetic eyes. “The officials want you all to pay for what happened that night”.

“We was set up Ross! Right from the get go, it was all a fucking set up!”

“I know, Y/n I know. I tried telling them but they won’t listen to me” He speaks earnestly.

“Why aren’t they going after John?”

John Cooper, a name she hasn’t heard or spoke of or thought of for over ten years now. He was Y/n’s handler for a year, he made her go out and find people who was at the top of their game. She didn’t know why but she did as she was told to do, finding the best of the best.

Douglas - best snipper in the army. Helped that he could fight like a beast.

Marco - best hacker she had ever seen, fighter, built like a brick wall (secretly a cuddle bear).

Colleen - she saved Y/n’s life when she had been cornered in a dark alleyway neither her or her attacker saw the knife coming. No brainer.

Marley - a young girl at the time was an experiment Y/n stumbled on, she didn’t have the heart to leave her and when she saw what she was capable of doing, she brought her on board too.

Then there was Hank - the biggest mistake she ever made. He was ruthless and conniving, she thought it would work well in her favour until they all heard screaming and they saw him pinning a seventeen year old Marley to the wall and was trying to shove his hand into the girls trousers. Y/n didn’t hesitate to put a bullet into his skull, catching Marley as she fell.

John said they needed another person but she refused. There was no way she was going to bring another person in, not after what had happened.

Their mission was for them to break into a government base and download all the information off the computers, when they got there, there was dead bodies of workers.

Pulling back Y/n ordered them to leave, the moment they stepped back outside they were surrounded by the military, FBI and even SHIELD.

That was the night she met both Ross and Fury.

“Y/n he’s dead, died in a Mexican prison seven years ago.”

“Oh…”

“I need you to tell me the locations of all four of them”

Chuckling softly, “that’s not going to happen Ross and you know it.”

“No I know-“

“If I give them me, confess to murdering all those people, tell them l was the only person that did it, will they leave them alone?” She asks desperately.

“But that’s not tr-“

“It doesn’t matter what’s true or not Ross. Will they yes or no?”

Closing his eyes he whispers “yes”.

“Let me make one phone call and I’ll come with you, right here right now”.

“That doesn’t need to happen. I’ll need your help soon, you help and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial”

“My old team walks. Free and clear, no one comes after them and I want it in writing Ross.”

“Deal.”

Shaking hands she walks back over to the van, hopping in “take me back from where you kidnapped me from”.

*Back to the present*

The first thing she did when she got into her car was FaceTime Fran who answered after a few rings.

“Hey”

“Hi, Doug told me what happened you’re supposed to be resting Y/n/n”.

“I’m fine,honestly. Where’s my little terrors?”

Laughing Fran calls for the twins, Y/n couldn’t stop smiling when she heard their feet’s pounding on the floor shouting for her.

“Here, talk to momma - I’ll talk to you after okay missy”.

“Of course. Hi babies”

“Momma” they replied in unison. To see them brought a smile to her lips, her heart ached with the need to hold them in her arms.

“Guess what bubbas!”

“What” Logan asked.

“Momma loves you both, so so much!”

“I wuv you mama” Harlow screams down the phone, making her and Fran laugh.

“Logie aren’t you going to tell me the same?”

“I wuv you momma so so so so so so much” His little face beams.

They were truly the perfect mixture of Y/n and Bucky. Logan had Y/n’s eyes whilst Harlow had Bucky’s, Harlow had her fathers smile and Logan had his mommas. The mannerisms of the pair were the exact same as their parents.

She spoke with them for close to an hour, them telling her all about their fun filled day. Saying goodbye to them pained her, she hated saying them words to her babies. Speaking with Fran for a bit she ended the call and went back to the house.

In dire need of sleep.

The rest of the week passed, Douglas visiting her most days and telling her that the team of superheroes wanted to see her to apologise, nothing was ever said back to him, leaving him hoping that things were different.

It was the day of the mission, she rang Fran so she could speak to her babies one last time. She left the house and headed back to the tower.

“It’s important that everyone knows exactly what the plan is. Nothing can go wrong”. Fury speaks from the head of the table. “Anyone want to saying anything?”

“Yeah, Y/n I’m so so-“ Wanda tries to say.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get this over and done with, my guys- are you ready?”

“Yes boss” All answer.

“Well, good luck everyone”.

On the quinjet ten minutes later, awkwardness filled the air as both teams sit on opposite sides. No words are spoken other than the pilot saying they were taking off.

Exactly three hours twenty-five minutes and 13 seconds - she timed it - was how long it took for Tony to say something, to be honest she was shocked it took him that long.

“Y/n can we talk?”

“If it’s an apology I don’t want it, it mean’s absolutely nothing to me. If it’s about the mission, then yes we can talk.”

“We need to apologise Y/n/n”

The nickname coming from Sam’s lips make her flinch. “I don’t want it nor need it.”

The quinjet fell silent once again.

That was until Bucky broke it. “I never cheated on you”

Everyone noticed the flash of pain in her eyes, “what?”

“I never slept with Nat, we pretended in order to hurt you, ba-Y/n we believed that you betrayed us”

“Believed Sharon don’t you mean.”

“We-I didn-“

“Awesome.”

“What?”

“I think it’s funny that instead of asking me and oh I don’t know believing me, instead you all believed a desperate blonde who had to settle for the man who still pines after her dead aunt, it’s quite absurd to me really.”

“We didn’t know what to believe Y/n. You’re the one that killed Sharon s-“ Steve speaks and ultimately gets cut off.

“I only killed her because I had no other choice!”

“There’s always a choice” He spat back.

“You’re right. But that night I didn’t have one, I wish it wasn’t but she left me no choice!”

“Why did you do it?”

“Pilot how long do we have long left?” They all look baffled by her change of the subject.

“We’re nearly here Miss”.

“Thanks” turning to look Bucky directly in the eyes “when this is all over Doug can explain it to you, end of discussion.”

The quinjet lowers to the ground and everyone takes their leave, just as Y/n walked past Douglas she slides two things into his pocket before gripping his hand and smiling towards him, he squeezes her hand and leans over to place a kiss to her temple.

Bullets fly freely, smoke fill their lungs, grunts and screams are heard. Pushing forwards they all work as one.

They had only been there for less than an hour before the remaining members of The Lords surrender.

After all the intel was gathered, the prisoners on board, they hear the sound of another jet.

“What the hell?” Tony asks.

The Avengers watch as Y/n gives each of her team a lingering hug - who all apart from Douglas looked confused.

As she gets to Doug hugging him too, she whispers something into his ear that even the two super soldiers couldn’t hear, pulling back they stand to attention and salute one another.

She says nothing as she passes them and up the soldiers who put handcuffs on her.

“What the hell just happen-“ Bucky stumbles out but is cut off when the jet carrying the woman who he was still very much in love with inside exploded.

Marley screams and the sound breaks Douglas’s heart, he grabs the woman who he’s always seen as his daughter in his arms as well as Colleen who falls to her knees. Marco stands there with his dark brown eyes not moving away from the still falling parts of the jet.

The Avengers, they all have silent tears streaming down their cheeks, none of them know what to say or do. They’ve just witnessed the person who at one point they trusted more than anything, the person they all betrayed just die.

Douglas walks past them all with both women in his arms and walks straight up the ramp with Marco following behind.

When everyone’s on board the quinjet they see him sitting in the seat Y/n was occupying.

“The day she walked in on you fucking her best friend she found out she was pregnant. The night she killed Sharon, Hydra had showed up at her home wanting the babies, that scar she has-had on her cheek was from a bullet graze, Sharon tried to kill Y/n - caused her to go into early labour. Y/n killed Sharon because she had no other choice, hell she even gave the blonde bitch an out. When me and my wife got there she was in the middle of delivering her second baby.” He shakes his head sadly “the reason my best friend is dead is because of us” pointing to himself and the other three “she made a decision to leave her babies behind just so we didn’t get given the death penalty”.

Douglas pulls out the items Y/n had put into his pocket, her ring - the one with two love hearts that represented her twins, and her dog tags that also had two smaller tags with the twins names, date of birth engraved on them.

“James, she made me and my wife adopt the twins. She knew exactly what she was going to do when Ross talked to her about their deal, she said it was okay for us to let you see them. But please don’t think for one second that you’ll be able to take them away from us, because pal even if you are a super solider I’ll still kill you.”

Bucky sits there with tears in his eyes, “what’s their names?”

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Doug tells him with a smile.

“Ca-if it’s okay with you and your wife, can I meet them?”

“You won’t try anything stupid?”

“No, god no of course not!”

“Then yeah that can be arranged.”

For two years Bucky sees the children he didn’t know existed until two years ago.

His heart dropped to his stomach when Douglas took him to the house that Y/n had brought for them to live in after they retired. It became the warm loving home for Douglas, Fran and the kids.

Bucky did retire, the day after he lost the love of his life and met his children for the first time, and not only that but he also brought the house next door.

He formed a great bond with the couple who let him see the kids whenever he wanted - which was now every day since he moved next door.

The bond he had with his children was now unbreakable. Everyday he was reminded of what he lost and lost out of just by looking at their adorable little faces. He loved them so deeply, loving them at its purest form. He wishes more than anything that he could go back in time and redo everything all over again, but since he can’t he continues to make up for lost time.

He’s sat in the living room with the kids, Doug and Fran when a knock comes from the front door, he watches as Doug goes to answer and truly didn’t think anything of it.

“Hi babies” A warm voice says.

“Momma!” The twins scream in unison.

Shooting up from were he was laying on the floor building with the Lego set Steve brought Logan, he watches his kids jump up and run over to Y/n who instantly picks them up.

She’s alive. She’s standing right in front of him. His chest tightens. She’s really here.

“H-how?” He whispers but she hears it.

“You’ve been doing so great with them, I’ve been watching” she smiles.

He walks slowly over to her as she puts the kids down and he doesn’t hesitate or think about it before he smashes his lips to hers.

“I still love you Y/n/n”

“I still love you Bucky”

The kids squeal and jump in circles around their parents as Doug and Fran hold on to each other.

Y/n pulls away from the man she still loves after everything and picks up her big babies.

“I told you I’ll always come back”

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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viixenvi · 7 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 | 18+

Summary: You and the rest of the Avengers decided to host a party at the tower to celebrate Tony's birthday. After some drinks, a guy comes up to you and you start to flirt. Unaware of the metal-armed super soldier who seems to get increasingly angrier the more he watches you with another guy.

Characters: Jealous!Bucky, Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, smut, oral (male receiving), teasing, praise, nicknames (doll, baby, love)

A/N: Not me disappearing for so long and then posting this. As always, forgive me for any mistakes, this was not proofread.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈

"Come on Tony," you groan, dragging Tony behind you as you walk to the elevator. You just needed to bring him to the top floor so everyone could surprise him. Except this proved to be exceptionally difficult because Tony had wanted to stay in his lab all day.

"Why do I have to come with you, there are like fifty other people you could ask," Tony crosses his arms, leaning back against the back wall of the elevator. You nervously spin the ring around your index finger as you wait for the elevator to ding.

When it finally does you step out first and rush next to Steve, who is holding a party hat for Tony. Tony walks out and asks Jarvis to turn on the lights, that's when everyone jumps up and yells "Surprise!"

Tony stumbles back and looks around, laughing. "You guys remembered!" He walks around, shaking hands and greeting people. You take this chance to slip away to the bar. You didn't drink anymore, it was affecting your ability to think right when you were out saving people.

You ordered an iced tea and leaned against the bar, watching people dance to the deafening music. "So, what are you doing at the bar by yourself?" A voice shouts next to you. You turn to see a very handsome man, he's much taller than you, holding a drink in his hand. You've never seen him before so you assumed he was a friend of Tony.

"Searching for the love of my life of course," You joke as you sip your drink. He laughs and leans closer so you can hear him.

"I'm Jacob, You work with Tony right?" Jacob asks you. You nod as you look back at the crowd of people. You were searching for someone, and he didn't seem to be there.

"Tony can be a bit uptight huh?" Jacob jokes. You laugh and turn back to him.

"A little? That man is the most uptight person I've ever met," You go to take a sip of your drink but someone is grabbing your arm and pulling you away. You turn your head and get a glimpse of a metal arm. "Bucky? What the hell? I was talking to him!" You exclaim as Bucky continues to walk until he finds an empty room.

He lets go of you and locks the door behind him. "You didn't need to talk to him anymore," He says, clenching his jaw as he stands in front of you.

"And you get to decide that?" You catch a whiff of alcohol and you sigh. "Are you drunk right now?" You go to walk out but Bucky pins you to the wall.

"Only had two drinks doll." He leans in closer, his lips grazing your neck as you take deeper breaths. "I didn't like the way that guy was so close to you. Whispering in your ear and making you laugh," Bucky pulls away to look at you for a moment. You can tell he's not drunk, so he's jealous?

"Bucky you can't be seriously jealous of that guy?" He kisses your neck slowly, humming as he goes back up to your ear.

"I bet he can't touch you like I can," He whispers, biting your earlobe softly. You smile and blush. You and Bucky decided to go on a break because work was starting to be too much for the two of you. It was causing fights which never ended well.

"Bucky...you can't just pull me away to do this," You put both hands on his chest and push him back a little so you can see his face. He looks at you with slight desperation. You look down and notice he has a boner, which seems to be bothering him quite a bit.

"Please Doll," He breathes out. You can't help but kiss him. He was way too irresistible, especially when he begged. You pull away from the kiss and push him onto the bed. He leans back on his elbows to watch you.

You unbuckle his pants and pull his boxers down. His cock shoots out and you smile when he bites his lip. You reach for it, your hands around his cock.

"You ready baby?" You ask, not really expecting an answer. He hums and lets out whimpers as you start stroking his sensitive cock. You can almost see the immediate pleasure Bucky feels. He looks so pretty when he's like this.

You get on your knees and lean over his cock, your mouth wraps around his tip and he rocks back a little. As soon as your tongue goes over the slit on his tip, he's whimpering again.

"Shh be quiet baby, people will hear." You push your mouth down over his cock and this time, you down down further. His cock hits the back of your throat and you bob your head up and down. Bucky moans, leaning back and trying to cover his mouth.

You look up at him as you continue. He's a mess already, his hair is all over and he can't even look up from the pillow his head is pushed into. Your tongue goes over every bit of his cock, you make sure to go slow when you go back up to the tip. He's the most sensitive there.

You pull off his cock for a moment, your hands taking over. "Look at me baby," You say, Bucky looks up from the pillow, his eyes slightly glossed over. You kiss him as you continue to pump your hands up and down.

"C-Close!" Is all Bucky can say between his moans. You go back down and push your head down over his cock. You suck it as it hits the back of your throat and he releases his cum. Bucky moans loudly, his legs slightly shaking.

You pull away from his cock and swallow his load. "You did so good love," You say as you kiss him again. All that jealousy he had once had was forgotten now.

Bucky's whole face is red, he feels a little embarrassed that he was trying to be so tough and you managed to turn him into a moaning mess.

You reach over and caress his face, kissing his cheek. "Don't be embarrassed baby, you know I love it when you make those noises for me. He nods, pulling up his boxers and pants before sitting at the edge of the bed.

You sit next to him and he leans onto you, his head laying on your shoulder. "I don't like being on a break," He admits, his hand inching towards yours.

"I don't either, it doesn't feel right anymore." You reach the rest of the way and clasp his hand with yours. "Let's forget about that break, boyfriend."

Bucky laughs and nods. "Okay, girlfriend."

#fem reader #bucky barnes #smut #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #x reader #female reader #slight fluff #jealous bucky #viixenvi

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stonedgirlstan · 2 months ago

Text

Loki- Sex Pollen

Warnings: 18+ SMUT AHEAD!!! MINORS DNI. Oral receiving(Female), Teasing (Friendly and sexual), pinning affection toward reader, P in V,

Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this one shot. It’s been a while since I wrote, I’ve been busy with school and since I am finished with school. I can finally get back into it! Also I DO NOT consent to anyone taking my work as their own.

It has been a weird relationship between you and Loki when you joined the Avengers. Tony found how your combat was like Natashas, and how you were an assassin like Bucky. You were a trained killer, did everything on your own for a while, never needed anyone to save you or protect you. Until one night, you were on a mission to kill the leader of Hydra for a pretty penny but it went to shit when the Avengers captured you and needed to know who you were and what your purpose was. You remembered Loki, he was the one that captured you that night.

“My my, what is a pretty thing like you running around here with no one to protect you?” Loki said with a smirk as he trapped you in one of his illusions. He wanted to make sure you though you were trapped in a cage when he saw you sneaking in.

“Fuck you. You don’t get to speak to me that way. You don’t know me.” You hissed as you look for a way out. Loki chuckled at you and steps closer and looks at your eyes with mischief.

“Guess its time for a lesson. I’ll see you when you wake up.” Loki says as everything went black. You had no idea what happened after that. When you woke up, you saw that you were in a bed with a vital machine handcuffed to the bed. You looked around and saw two people you didn’t recognize.

“Where the fuck am I?” You croaked, haven’t noticed your throat is dry. The woman looks at you with a warm smile. She looked familiar, she had short red curly hair, and deep eyes.

“Hello there, I’m Natasha Rumnoff. You are at Avengers Compound. We took you because we have questions about your skills and if you would want to help us take down Hydra.” She said confidently, You looked at her with realization, she was your teacher from the Red Room. But you were able to escape before they could do any other testing on you.

“Ms. Rumnoff, why did you bring me here? I made sure no one could find me in 30 years. I made sure of it.” You said with a drip of anxiety in your tone because you were afraid she would take you back. She chuckled lightly and smiled softly.

“Y/N, I am not part of the red rooms anymore. I got out, I am part of the Avengers. They are my new family and are very accommodating. But Steve and I both need to know who you’ve been working for and if you can be trusted.” She says sitting next to you keeping eye contact. You laughed like a mad woman, you looked at Natasha and the guy she called Steve.

“When I left, I couldn’t afford being found out. I started working as a contract assassin. My associates I worked for were secret and so was I until you guys found me and had me trapped in a cage with a linky man in green.” You said coldly staring at the both of them. They looked a little shocked that you were captured in a cage but they remembered Loki found you first and made sure you won’t leave.

“That's fine, and I want to say now, you are safe, no one is going to force you here and keep you locked up.” Steve said finally after processing everything. He tells you that you need to stay with them for the time being, he informs you how Hydra found out about you and they were gonna capture you themselves and use you like they did his friend Bucky. You reluctantly agree to stay with one condition, that you can talk to Loki about his mind tricks he put on you.

Ever since you came to the compound after the capture, you started to slowly warm up to everyone. You thought Loki hated you with the way he would tease you, but little did he know, you really liked him, his gorgeous eyes, his quirky smile, and the way he fought in battle when you guys went on missions. But you would never tell him that and about this crush you started growing for him after that night. He was different from any other men you’ve seen or been with.

“You know woman, you are making that face again.” Loki says as he looks up from his book, you were admiring his body in that tanktop and pj pants he came down from his room in. You blush and look away,

“What are you even talking about? It’s my face, it’s called RBF” You said trying to be confident even when you are blushing for him seeing you eye fucking him.

“Oh really? So you just look at everyone with them doe eyes and lips puffed out like your about to attack?” Loki says with a smirk, he knows how to make you blush and he finds it cute. You roll your eyes and walk about flipping him off as you leave the kitchen. You wonder if something would change if something can happen between you and him. But he doesn’t like you like that. As you continue walking to the elevator FRIDAY calls for you to inform you that you need to see Fury and Steve, they have a mission for you. You sign and go up to the office where they were located.

“Hi Y/N, we have a mission, there is an abandoned HYDRA base. We need you and Loki to go get any details they left and bring it home. We know they were trying to experiment on women and super soldiers into making sex last longer and in hope they would repopulate some soldiers. They were not successful, hopefully. So we need you guys to go look around and find the plant and paperwork on it. It is very dangerous and I know you are the two for the team.” Fury says as he lays everything out letting you read into more. You didn’t notice Loki arrived until you heard him make a joke.

“Well, looks like this will be fun. Won’t it bunny? Hopefully you don’t get scared if you get caught in a cage again.” Loki smirks as he reads the papers over your shoulder before grabbing it from your hands. You roll your eyes and chuckle at that since it was HIS fault you were “stuck” in a cage to begin with.

“Yeah yeah, we get it Loki.” You said as you walked up to the monitors to get the jet ready for our trip. After getting everything detailed, you walk out of the room to go to your room and grab your bag. You take a few deep breaths even though you’ve been on a few missions with Loki, you guys have never been just the two of you. Bucky and Natasha normally join you, but this time it is just you and Loki.

“Y/N are you ready?” Loki says as he approaches you while behind you as you walk out of your room facing the door taking breaths. You jump a little because you had no idea he was behind you.

“Uh- Uh yes, I am ready.” You say as you calm down from the scare. You roll your eyes and head to the jet. You put in the coordinates to the locate you are needing to go, you sit in the front to get it off the ground and go so then you put it in autopilot to get started.

—

You guys finally arrive at the abandoned HYDRA base. You look over everything, you know the flower, if it is still in the base, looked like red petals with a pink stem that glows like gold/red. Loki isn’t looking at the flower, he is looking at you. He loves the way your red and black jumpsuit hugs you curves and makes your ass look around. He is about to say something when saw you grab your knife, your glock, and your half face mask.

“Are you ready Loki?” You say, you noticed he was eyefucking you from behind after grabbing everything you need to go inside. He coughs and nods, he follows closely behind you.

“You know, for being a human, you sure know what you're doing. How do you know about this flower? You seemed a bit concerned when Fury brought it up.” Loki stated as he watched you stop in your tracks. You turn around to look at him.

“Believe or not GOD, I had a run into this flower before on one of my contracts. They had a boobtrap spray and I miscaulated it and got hit right in the face. It isn’t something to be reckoned with. It causes very high things that you may have never experienced before.” You said with a smile, you continued down the hallway. You stay quiet while you know Loki is trying to say something clever back to you since you basically called him a virgin. You see in front of you there is a door opened. You see the glowing flower, you slightly stiffen. Loki walked into you as you stopped because you had BAD memories about this flower.

“Why did you stop.” Loki asked as he fell back a bit. All you could do was point, he looks where you’re pointing at. Seeing the flower, Loki decides he is gonna worp into the room to received the flower since that is part of their main mission. Y/N scream ‘NOOOOO’ as Loki gets closer, he picks up the flower and it sprays its mist in his face. Loki coughs as he drops the plant. Y/N was quick enough to grab it before it broke. You didn’t inhale any of the mist, your mask was made for something like this, you put it into the bag to keep it safe and contained while you saw the papers next to where the plant was and gather as needed. You look back at Loki when you are done. He is staring deeply at you. His eyes are blown out with lust, he is sweating profusely. You swallow hard when you call for him to get his attention. You know the effects on this plant happens within seconds.

“Lo-Loki?” You stutter as you walk slowly to him. He just groans at the sound of your voice.

“Wh-what is-is happening?” He asked as he wipes his forehead. He is getting hotter by the minute, he needs to take off his suit, as he starts to you call for him again. He stops and looks at you. He groans because he want to take you right now over that table, watch your sweet ass bounce everytime he thrusts.

“It’s the flower, we need to get back to the compound now.” You say as you brush past him and starting heading toward the jet, but you were stopped by his hand grasping hard on your forearm. You look up and see his face more.

“It hurts, I’ve never felt like this before. What is this plant doing to me?” He says as calm as he can as he is squirming in his pants for you.

“The plant is called ‘Sex Pollen’ it heights all of your sexual needs and fantasies. You aren’t going to stop sweating or feeling hot until you get a release… inside of a hole.” You say as you shake him off. You know he can fight it if he tries, he is the God of Mischief. You both head back to the jet without another word. He is right on you, you can feel his hands sliding up your body creasing your curves.

“Loki, you gotta stop… please. I want you to take this. It’ll help you.” You offer him water and a sleeping pill to hopefully help him fall asleep and stay asleep on your way back. His eyes were black looking back at you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to be handled like this… I am trying to help myself but its hard… you are so ravishing. I know you don’t deserve this.” He says sweetly as he picks you up and places him on his lap. You are shocked at how close you guys are. You swallow, he allows you to give him the pill and the cup of water. He goans at how hot your feel in your suit. You help him lay down as you walk out of the room. You know that he is only being like this because you are the only one here. He brings home women every night, you know you aren’t his type. As you set home, you sit and take a small nap to help you understand everything that just happened.

—

As you & Loki makes it back, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Natasha, and Bucky run to the jet to check on you guys and get Loki to quarantine since he was sprayed. Bruce, Thor, and Tony take Loki who is stringing while being carried out. Natasha and Bucky come to your side, they saw how distraught you were. Your hair was matted to your face, face flushed, and you wouldn’t look them in the eyes while they asked what happened. You had a nightmare and it made you fall into mute like you were back in the Red Rooms. Bucky scooped you up and carried you to your room with Natasha by his side. They knew it was rough for you to be back around that flower. They had some of it before when they were captured, it made Bucky sick that he couldn’t go because originally was supposed to be with you. But he decided at the last minute to say no and take Loki instead. Natasha runs a hot bath for you and helps you out of your suit and into the bath. She starts singing Feelings fade, it was the one song that helped you during the darkest times in the Red Room.

—

Loki wakes up in pain, he is still hot, his hair matted to his neck. He has a very hard cock straining in his pants. He longs for you but doesn’t want to seem desperate to you since he has been mean in playful way, he doesn’t think you’ll want him, he has longed for you. Every woman he brings back to have sex with. He thinks of you the entire time, the way he thinks you’ll feel milking him dry, how sweet your voice would sound moaning for him. He finally noticed that he was alone in quarantine. He makes a break to your room using his magic, because he is desperate and needs a release. He wants you to be his. He walked into your room through his protal, and saw that you were awake. Wearing a tight tank top and pajama shorts sitting in bed writing. You heard him before he walked through, you ignore him because you know he is still high on the mist and just needs a release,

“What are you doing here loki?” you said not looking up at him. He groans at the sound of your voice. It was feels like sweet honey.

“Y/N… I really hate to ask… but… can I lay with you? I can’t find any kind of release with my hands… I want you…” Loki says looking at your with hooded eyes as he starts to strip in front of you. You choke out a laugh because he has to be kidding right? Out of everyone he wants you?

“Loki, I don’t think that’s a good idea.. You don’t even like me. We only get along for everyone's sake. But deep down, you don’t like me.” You said finally looking up and seeing him naked. How defined his muscles looked, his v-line that ran down his waist right to his big red precum oozing cock. You choke a bit, he is more beautiful then you ever imagined..

“Y/N, it is below me to ask you, but you are the only human in my eyes. Yes I’ve laid with other women but I couldn't get you out of my head. I thought about you everytime, wondering how you felt beneath me. Panting… Moaning… clawing me and begging me. Woman, I am in love with you.” Loki says as he walks up to your bed, sitting down caressing your calf before slowly moving them up. You thought for a minute about his sweet words, maybe he did feel the same way about you as you felt about him. You place your notebook and pen down and look at him, he is completely fucked out by this flower. You feel compelled to help since you felt like it was your fault. You look up at him and move closer.

“I guess I’ll help. But I’d like to talk about these feelings after since you’re currently on drugs.” You say as you close into him with a kiss, his lips were so soft yet a bit chapped from him biting his lip. He lunges into the kiss grabbing your waist as he pulls you close to him, he nips at your lips to open them up, you moan light which makes him feral. He grabs your shorts and pulls them off, almost ripping them. You gasp at the motion, he lays you down and starts to eat you out like a starved man.

“Oh Loki, ooooh’ You moaned as you get a grip of his black locks in your fingers. He groans against you, using his tongue. He is staring at you as your back arches, you were seeing stars.

“Loki, I am about- fuck- about to cu– cum.” You whine out as you felt like it was about to snap.

“Cum for me.” He says as he sucks faster on your clit, he puts two fingers in you scissoring fast for your release. You arch up and cum hard all over him, he starting rutting against the bed, needing to desperately. He looks at you like a mad man ready to ravish your goods.

“I can’t wait any longer, I need to be inside of you.” Loki says as he rubs his head up and down your slit before pushing it in. He groans at how tight you are and how wet you are. He stills for just a moment before moving, his pace was brutal. You’ve never thought this would happen within the time you’ve known him but you know he is under drugs currently and you don’t know if he really means what he said.

“Oh… OH MY…” You said as he kissed your cervix with every thrust, clawing his back. You haven’t felt like this before, you are so full of emotion. You didn’t notice you were crying till Loki hauled his movements and touched your cheek.

“Pet, what is wrong? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he slowly pulled out of you, he is still drugged and needs a release but you being sad makes his heart break. You shake it off and continue but he stops you.

“I know that I am drugged but I want to be frank. Y/N, I am very much in love with you. I have wanted you since the first day of meeting you, when I captured you in the cage. I love the way your hair flows, how stubborn you are when we do missions. Everything about you has captured me… which is weird because I never had these feelings before and I am TERRIFIED because I don’t want my heart broken.” Loki says as he caresses your cheek looking deeply into your eyes as he slowly thrusted into you lovely. You sigh,

“Loki, I am in love with you as well. It took a while because I thought you were a total ass, but you grew on me with your witty comments and teasing. I am crying because I am full of emotion because finally it happened, not the way I wanted, but it happened. Now let's get this out of your system so we can have a coherent conversation.” You say, as you pull him into a deep heated kiss, he growls against your lips and starts thrusting faster. He pulls away from the kiss and smirks, he flips you over so he is able to get you on your hands and knees, has he thrust harder pushing you face down as he has one hand on your hip, the other on your neck. You are close, you feel the coil in your belly tighten.

“Loki, I am about- bout to- fuck- cum.” You stutter as you grip his cock tightly as he fucks into hard. He groans at the feeling of you.

“Cum for me, I am close.” He says as he pumps hard into you, you finally let it snap and you cum hard, thinking might have even squirted on him with how much you came. He moans at the feeling and releases deep in you holding you still against him as he doesn’t want to lose the heat. He finally after a few minutes slowly pulls out and lays you on the bed as he walks to the bathroom. He comes back with a washcloth to help you clean up, you are very sore from tonight's actions and all you want to do is sleep. But Loki has other plans.

“Y/N, I want you to know, I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. I want to give us a chance and you deserve a date. I’d like to be your boyfriend if you will have me.” Loki says, stroking your face softly.

“Of course Loki, I’d like that.” You smile, you move closer to cuddle and lean up to kiss him goodnight before passing out.

#dark loki smut #loki smut #@mischiefmaker615

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imagine-you · 1 month ago

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I Will Avenge My Ghost [Bucky Barnes/Reader]

Summary: Your sacrifice on Vormir was meant to be your end. You did it for love. You did it for family. And you had no regrets in your decision to be the one to jump instead of Steve. But you never expected to wake up in Wakanda and you certainly never thought that you would still lose Steve and your sister in the years since your death. While you can't get Steve back, you're determined to figure out what happened to your sister and you end up dragging Bucky along for the ride. Your questions lead you to Westview, a sleepy little town harboring a dark past, and a witch named Agatha Harkness. Will you find what you truly seek down, down, down the Witches' Road or will Death finally come to claim you?

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: I was going to hold off on this, but I watched episode seven and I had so many feelings I literally wrote this last night. If you enjoy this and would like to see this continue, please let me know!

Read On AO3

When you jumped off the cliff at Vormir, the decision had been easy. It had been a long five years without your sister and you would have given anything for Wanda. You would also give anything for Steve, and if this brought you closer to winning the war against Thanos and bringing all the lost back, then you would do it.

A sacrifice of love was needed and you had nothing but love to give for those two. You couldn't live in a world without Steve and while he wanted to do the noble thing, you knew you would never be able to go on without him. So, you used your power one last time to push Steve far away from the edge of the cliff and then threw yourself over it.

As you fell, you could hear Steve crying out for you. You always assumed your life would flash before your eyes like everyone claimed it would. But all you saw was Vormir's sky eclipsed by Steve reaching over the cliff's edge, as if he could still reach you. And then you saw nothing at all.

You didn't remember hitting the rocks below, but the only people on your mind as death rushed to meet you were Steve and Wanda. Steve, selfless and sacrificing, and how much he yearned for his best friend, the person who truly understood him above all else, Bucky. And your sister, who had drifted away into dust and oblivion after losing the love of her life. Wanda, who had been forced to kill Vision, only to have it all be for nothing. Her grief had sent shockwaves through you and you would never forget the raw pain that had radiated off her after losing Vis. You couldn't bring Pietro back, and while his death would always weigh on your mind, you knew that you could bring Wanda back into the land of the living.

You would make it right. You had to. Even if this was your end, then at least it meant something. At least it was used to save countless others.

Death flowed endlessly around you in glimpses of life and snatches of memories, remembered and forgotten. They fell right through your grasp, never yours to begin with, but a tether to the world you longed to revisit. You fought and struggled, pulling at strands and words, willing them to materialize. You followed a lead, a road, that appeared before you and at the end, you expected to find Death.

No one will ever be tempted by the darkhold again.

I miss you. God, I miss you so much.

I got my dance. I owed her that. I owed myself that.

I can't feel you.

We can't reverse death.

You're gonna need me.

Immortality never meant anything to me before, but I suppose you’re not mine after all. Not yet, at least. Don’t say I never did you any favors.

You didn't expect to wake up.

You felt breath expand your lungs and you sat up with a gasp. You didn't know where you were or what had happened to you, but all you could think was that you failed. You had traded your life for the billions of others that had been snapped away by Thanos. If you were here, alive, then it had all been for nothing.

"Hey, hey," someone was saying, and you could feel hands on your shoulders, but you didn't want to lift your head to try to see who was attempting to talk to you. "She's freaking out here. Don't you think you should do something, Shuri?"

"And what would you have me do, Bucky? This might not even really be her. I thought her magic was blue."

"It was," someone said. Bucky, you realized. It was Bucky who had you by the shoulders. "Hey, doll," Bucky tried, bringing a finger up to tuck under your chin and force your head up.

You met Bucky's eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. He hadn’t been wrong. You were freaking out, but it wasn’t going to do you any good now. You needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

"Bucky?" You tried, your words coming out as a rasp. "Am I alive?"

Bucky looked like he was torn between relief and confusion. "Yeah, you're here with us." He gestured at the other two people in the room. You recognized one as King T'Challa's sister and you had already known Sam.

"How did I get here? I died on Vormir. Or...I thought I did. I don't remember dying," you told them, trying to remember what happened. Death hadn't felt like an end, more like a journey. You had felt, all the while, like you were being lead somewhere. Maybe, you couldn't help but think, it was bringing you here.

"We don't know how you got here," Sam interjected. His arms were crossed and he was wearing a new suit. It wasn't his usual Falcon getup. It was more reminiscent of Steve's, showcasing red, white, and blue with a star on the chest. The shield was strapped to his back, and you started to panic again.

"Where's Steve?" You quickly let your gaze shift from Sam to Bucky again. “Bucky, where’s Steve? Did he make it? God, I gave up everything for him and if he still died...,” you trailed off, letting the thought go unfinished. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Bucky turned to throw a look over his shoulder at Sam. You couldn't see Bucky's expression, but you could sure as hell see Sam's.

Grief. Remorse. Apology. Pain.

"No," you denied with a quick shake of your head. "I jumped so he would live. I jumped so he would get to have a life." You could feel a strange new energy thrumming along your limbs, and you didn't know how to contain it. You felt restless, an urgency rising within you that you didn't know how to quell.

"He did," Bucky assured you, finally looking at you again. You felt like his hands on you was the only thing keeping you together, so when he made to draw away, you latched onto his shirt, pulling him closer. "Okay, okay," he soothed, moving to sit on the edge of the examination you realized you were lying on.

He was treating you like a frightened animal, and you didn’t know how to feel about that. You were torn between seeking comfort in the familiarity of him and lashing out for letting you be so vulnerable. It wasn’t his fault. He was only doing what he could for you, but you were caught between anger and fear, and nothing good ever came out of that particular combination.

"Then what happened? Where is he?" You demanded, looking from Sam to Shuri and back to Bucky again.

"He...," Sam paused at another look from Bucky. "Well, she's gonna find out eventually."

"What?" You snapped, hating that everyone in the room knew something you didn't. "What happened after I jumped?"

"We defeated Thanos and the people he snapped away came back," Bucky told you, giving you the tiniest hint of a smile when your shoulders began to slump with relief. Before he started talking, his lips twisted to the side in a grimace and you knew he was about to throw you back into the deep end. "But, you've gotta realize that winning that war nearly destroyed Steve. He told me what happened on Vormir and he told me what he wanted to do."

You were briefly distracted by a shimmer in the air around Bucky. You hadn't realized it before, but the air around him seemed to faintly glow red. As he spoke, it shifted to a light blue, and you were so distracted by the sight that you missed his next words.

"You alright there, Maximoff?" Sam called, breaking you out of your fascination. The air around Sam seemed to glow just the slightest hint of green while Shuri had a purple aura around her.

"I don't know?" You answered, ducking your hand to look at your hands. You felt off, somehow. You had never really been the same, not since losing your parents at a young age and having to look out for your younger brother and sister. After being subjected to experiments by sadistic scientists and coming out the other side with superpowers, you figured you would never lead a normal life. Steve had been the closest thing you had ever gotten to a fairytale ending and now he was gone.

You felt unmoored, adrift, in this new reality and you were waiting to crash down again. You only hoped you would be given the opportunity to brace for impact when the time came.

A light danced across your fingers, your magic beginning to flare up with your frustration. You had never been anywhere on your sister's level, your magic blue where hers was red and chaotic. But you had also been able to tame a flame and throw objects around with just a thought. She would always be the more powerful of the two of you, but you had held your own well enough in a fight.

The magic that pushed up beneath your skin to pool in your palm was no longer blue, but orange.

"Huh," you breathed, no longer able to accept that you were rooted in reality. "This is the weirdest dream ever." You finally looked back up at Bucky, catching his worried expression. "You think this is what I'm seeing before I die?"

"Doll, that's what I've been trying to tell you. You did die," he stressed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. "There was never a body. Steve wanted to bring you back, but you just weren't there."

"The soul stone must have claimed her. It did require a sacrifice," Shuri observed with a thoughtful noise. "I could tell something was happening. There was just too much energy and while I thought it was your sister, it turned out to be you swirling around in the air like a ghost. I still have no idea how you corporealized and got here from Vormir, but you're living and breathing," she assured you, gesturing towards a monitor you realized was showing your heartbeat, oxygen levels, and other vitals.

There were too many worries crowding your mind and you tried to sort them out. You thought if you could just focus, then maybe something would start to make sense.

"Steve?" You tried again, not able to accept that he might be gone.

"He passed on," Sam said, his tone somber and apologetic. “Wasn’t that long ago, but I’m sorry to tell you, he’s no longer with us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but you shook your head.

"No, tell me," you demanded, trying to force yourself to breathe. “I’m not going to get anywhere with you hiding things from me.” You wanted to scream and rage, but you weren't sure what your magic would do if you gave into the instinct. It was new, something you had to relearn, and you didn't want to hurt Bucky, Sam, or Shuri because you couldn't control it.

"He, uh, well," Bucky started with a wince. "He had to bring the stones back to their original homes. He told me before he left that he was never going to be able to save you. Your death was tied to the fate of billions and there was nothing he could do to get you back. The soul stone wouldn't return you, but the time stone could still give him a life. It could help him right some past wrongs and regrets."

Bucky stopped talking, but you didn't need him to continue. You could almost see it playing out like a movie in your mind. Steve searching for you one last time on Vormir only to be informed that you were no longer there. Steve leaving and finding Peggy. Steve finally getting his dance. Steve getting his happy ending.

Without you.

You pulled away from Bucky, your hands curling into themselves as you felt your power build up. A brilliant, blinding orange light caressed your skin and you threw your hands out to the sides, releasing everything that had been building up.

You let out a scream, throwing your head back as you attempted to claw back control from the wild impulse of your magic. It was untamed, no longer held under your will, and you felt like it would tear you apart. It was lighting you up from the inside and you were distantly aware of the smell of smoke and flame.

Someone was shouting your name, attempting to bring you back to yourself. But all you could feel was pain and the agony of losing Steve after all was almost too much for you to take.

Someone wrapped their arms around you, trapping your arms at your sides. It was enough to pull you out of your grief, the surprise of being so fully embraced while you were feeling like a bomb that had finally gone off shocked you into finally reeling your magic back in and storing it away.

Bucky had you in a tight hold, but it wasn't restricting. It was comfort and reassurance and understanding.

“You couldn’t have done that before she burned a hole through the floor?” Shuri wondered, sounding exasperated.

“Where do you keep your fire extinguisher?” Sam wondered, his voice drifting away as he searched for something to put out the fire that was still raging on the floor.

"I know," he was whispering, ignoring all the alarms you had accidentally set off. You could hear Shuri cursing and Sam rifling through a cabinet. "I know, alright? It hurts. It hurts me too," Bucky confided in you, keeping his voice low enough so only you could hear him. “But you’ve gotta keep it in right now. Just for now. And then I’ll get you someplace where you can let it all go. Once we know you’re okay,” he added after a moment.

You let your arms wrap around Bucky's waist, resting your head on his shoulder. He brought a hand up, letting it curl around the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel tears tracking down your cheeks, but you no longer wanted to cry. You had gotten your answer, and while it wasn't what you wanted, you couldn't begrudge Steve a happy ending. Not after everything he had given up to save the world time and again.

You absentmindedly reached a hand out, drawing on the flames and letting the fire fall into your hand. You closed your hand into a fist, letting it die.

“Neat trick you’ve got there. You couldn’t have done that sooner?” Sam asked, finally brandishing a fire extinguisher that was no longer needed.

“Perhaps we should give them a moment,” Shuri suggested to Sam. “Why don’t you come look at these readouts with me?”

“I’m not a toddler. You don’t have to distract me,” Sam grumbled, but he dutifully followed Shuri to the other side of the room, leaving you and Bucky with a small measure of privacy.

"I'm sorry," you muttered into Bucky's shoulder, letting yourself only focus on him. "I'm sorry he left you. He really loved you, you know."

"Yeah," Bucky huffed out on a humorless laugh. "He really loved you too."

You stayed like that for a while, soaking up Bucky's presence while everything fell apart around you.

"Sam's Cap now?" You checked, knowing that if Sam wielded the shield, then he had taken on the mantle. “He’s good for it.” You knew that if Steve had passed on the shield to Sam, then it was with very good reason. You had always assumed that if Steve retired, then Bucky would take on the role of Captain America, but looking at him now, Bucky just seemed tired. Maybe he didn’t so much want to play hero as he wanted to simply stop looking over his shoulder at every turn waiting for his past to resurface.

"Yeah," Bucky answered, finally pulling away enough to look at you. "You missed a lot while you were gone, you know."

"How long has it been since I died, Bucky?" Steve was gone and Sam was Captain America and Bucky seemed less constrained, but still wary. It was a monumental change, but you had a sinking feeling it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Years." Bucky watched you in silence for a long, drawn-out moment. You heard the door open, but didn't bother to see if it was admitting someone new or if Shuri and Sam had finally had enough of pretending they weren’t eavesdropping on your conversation with Bucky. "Look, there's something I should tell you, but after how you reacted to Steve, I don't know how you're gonna take this."

"What are you--"

"I almost didn't believe it," someone interrupted, and you finally looked over to see Stephen Strange standing in the doorway. "It's miraculous is what it is," he continued, not aware of the way you tensed at his presence.

There was something dark in the air around him. It looked as if something had latched on to him and was content to be a passenger. You didn't know why you were literally seeing people in a new light, but you knew that whatever had happened with Stephen wasn't good. It was like it had left a stain on his soul.

"Stephen," you greeted with a nod of your head. "What the hell happened to you? You’re...different," you decided, watching how the inky wisps attached to his aura pulsed at your words. You couldn’t tell if it was something separate or if it was simply a part of Strange now.

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion. He shot Bucky a look and then Sam and Shuri. "Did you--?" He let the question hang, waiting for them to answer.

"No," Shuri told him, watching you in interest. "She's changed. Her power has evolved with her death."

You swung your legs over the side of the table and let yourself stand. Bucky reached out to help you or hold you back, you weren't sure, but you waved him off. Another question had come to mind, and you instinctively knew that Stephen would have something to do with the answer you were seeking. Shuri had mentioned your sister earlier and now she was all you could think about. Why did Shuri it was your sister trying to materialize? Wasn’t Wanda alive? You would never get Steve back, and you would never want to rip away whatever peace he had stolen for himself. But Wanda would need you. Wanda always needed you. If something had happened to her in your absence, then it was your job to find her and help her.

So, you met Stephen's gaze and held your head high, not wanting to show even a hint of weakness.

"Where's my sister?" You asked, daring him to lie to you. You could see a flicker of uncertainty in his expression as you advanced on him. You could feel the tempting crackle of your power tingling along your fingers. You longed to see Wanda, knowing that she would be the only thing keeping you from truly falling apart. Your sacrifice had cost you more than your life. It had cost you Steve. And you would be damned if it also cost you your sister.

You felt like your soul was reaching out to her, your entire being aching to pull her back into your orbit, but there was a strange emptiness inside you. It was like she was drifting further away from you by the second.

Stephen met your gaze, never letting it stray. "What do you know about the darkhold?" Stephen finally responded after what felt like an eternity waiting for any news about what had happened to your sister.

It wasn't what you wanted to hear and you couldn't help but lash out with your magic. It had been coiled, ready to strike, and who were you to deny it when you finally had a worthy target?

You had expected to simply push him with your power. It had been a familiar defensive response before your death, but now your magic seemed to take hold of the reigns. It curled out away from you and wrapped around his throat. You could hear his breath cut off and Bucky was calling your name, but you didn't care.

There was only one thing you cared about at the moment and Stephen Strange seemed to hold all the answers.

So, you decided to give him one more chance and posed the question that had overtaken your mind.

"Where's Wanda?" Additional Author's Note: If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!!

#agatha all along #marvel #marvel imagine #agatha all along imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader is a maximoff #agatha all along x reader #reader insert #imagine #bucky barnes imagine #agatha all along spoilers #spoilers #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #my fic #i will avenge my ghost fic

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year ago

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''I'm in love with you, you grump!''

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Shy!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | You're currently on a mission with Sam and Bucky, so in order to blow of some steam the three of you decide to go to a bar. During the evening Sam brings up the topic of your dating life, and suddenly Bucky gets very grumpy, but you can't seem to figure out why. You're not exactly comfortable with the topic either, but his reaction seems a bit much in your eyes.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Reader is a bit shy, with a hint of social anxiety, Bucky and Reader are oblivious to each other's feelings, Sam is a bit of an instigator, confessed romantic feelings.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Hey doll, want to join us at the bar? We're heading there later and Sam and I thought it might be fun to go all together,'' Bucky asked, even though he knew full well Sam didn't mind either way. ''Uh, do I have to...? I'd rather stay at the hotel, Buck,'' you tried, you weren't a big fan of going out, let alone going to a crowded bar on a Saturday evening. Every time they are going somewhere they try to get you to come with them, but you're not much of an outgoing person, or a people-person, for that matter. Sure, you were fine around Bucky, but the two of you spend a lot of time together, but you rarely hang out with Sam aside from missions.

''Please?'' Bucky asked with big puppy dog eyes, and as much as you didn't want to say no, you couldn't resist. ''Fine, but I won't dress up or anything, and I will stay for only an hour, that's it. ''It wouldn't want it any other way, doll,'' he said as he put his hand on your hip and he put a small kiss on your forehead as a thank you, which sets your inside completely ablaze at just the simplest of touches. This crush you had on Bucky is getting out of hand, and you don't know how much longer you can hold it in before you snap and accidentally tell him how you feel.

The weather is very nice where your mission is located, so you opt to go for a simple summer dress and a pair of Converse, your hair in a simple ponytail, and very little make-up. The dress shows a little more skin than you're used to, but you've been trying to step out of your comfort zone a little bit, trying to get rid of your shy-girl persona and instead being the badass you know you can be. This seems like a good start in your mind, and not much later all three of you are heading to a bar, you're clinging to Bucky's arm as if your life depends on it. ''You okay, doll?'' he whispered in your ear, you must have been squeezing harder than intended. ''Uh, yeah I guess,'' you muttered.

God, you were feeling very uncomfortable, not just with your outfit choice, but with everything around you. There were too many people doing who knows what, and the air in the bar seems a little bit constricting, but you promised Bucky an hour so that's the least you will do for him. In all honesty, you'd do almost anything for him if he asked, but that's mainly due to this crush you've had on Bucky, which honestly feels more like you've fallen head over heels in love with the super soldier, the more you think about it. When the three of you arrive at the bar you immediately go seek out a place to sit, and much to your relief, you find a booth in a quiet part of the bar.

''Can I get you guys anything to drink?'' Bucky asked and you just nodded, Sam ordered a beer. ''Anything specific you might like?'' he smiled at you, turning a bit flustered and red at the question. ''Uh... I- uh, I'll take a beer too, please,'' you stuttered, hoping the floor would just open up and swallow you whole right then and there. ''Alright, three beers coming right up,'' he said as he walked to the bar. Neither you nor Sam said anything while he was away, and you didn't mind. You got your phone out of your bag and started scrolling through social media to keep your mind a little busy until Bucky came back. Not long after he returned, handing you your beer and you gave him a smile as a thank you.

''So, anything new with you guys?'' Sam asked, and he and Bucky were in a conversation about something you didn't particularly care for, so you were just picking at the label on your bottle. This was how it usually went and also the reason you'd rather have stayed back at the hotel. You were deep in thought and didn't notice the men across from you were looking at you expectantly. ''Uh, sorry, did you- did you ask something?'' you said as you turned bright red, not looking either of them in their eyes because you were embarrassed. ''It's okay, Y/N, no need to be shy!'' Sam said, which only made you feel worse. ''I asked if there's anything new in your dating life,'' he said again, and it didn't help much.

''Uh, no, yeah, I have been on a few dates, but it wasn't going anywhere,'' you said, mostly because you were afraid to text them back after the date, and it never got past one, if you didn't walk out during the date itself. ''You know how it goes,'' you said with a shy chuckle, which immediately died down as soon as it left your throat, you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. The main reason it never went anywhere however, is because they weren't Bucky, but you would never admit that to anyone, the bond you have with him is special and you don't want to risk losing that connection you two share.

The moment you finished your answer you immediately dropped your eyes down, to where your fingers were still picking at the corners of the label on your bottle. Because you did this you didn't see the way Bucky's face dropped at the mention of you going on dates, you never told him that and he wasn't all too happy with it in all honesty. He got up and stomped out of the bar, he needed some fresh air to clear his mind a little bit because he almost told you he wishes you would have gone on a date with him, and he didn't want to tell you like that. You quickly went after him after apologizing to Sam.

''Buck, what's wrong?'' you asked as you grabbed his arm when you were both outside. He pulled his arm away from you and ran his hands through his hair to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid right now. ''Why didn't you tell me why you went on dates? I always tell you everything, even when I have a date,'' Bucky said, not sure why he would emphasize that part exactly. ''I-, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to mention it, in case it would make you uncomfortable. I mostly went on those dates to get you out of my head, but it never worked,'' you said now that you got a sudden confidence boost. You don't have a single clue where it came from, but you would embrace it for however long it lasted.

''Why-, wait, get me out of your head? Did I ever do anything to hurt or upset you for you to need me out of your head?'' he said and he slowly started spiraling a little bit. ''Buck, no, please look at me, you never did anything wrong-'' you said but his face said all you needed to know. He started pacing back and forth over the sidewalk and didn't look at you, so you took measures into your own hands by grabbing his arms. ''Bucky, look at me, please! I never told you I went on dates because I'm in love with you, you grump! I have been head over heels for you ever since we first met, and that's why I never told you. I thought that if I went on dates, I would get those thoughts and feelings out of my head, but they never did,'' you explained, finally looking into his eyes as you confessed your feelings. What Bucky did next honestly surprised you to your core.

''I'm in love with you too, doll, fuck it feels good to finally say it out loud! I've been trying to keep it shoved away because I thought you didn't feel the same, but now that I know you do, I just want to tell you a thousand, no a hundred thousand times how much I love you, and how in love I am with you!'' he said as he let out a nervous laugh, he was completely overcome with relief and still finds it hard to believe your feelings are out in the open now. On a whim he grabbed your face and placed his lips onto yours, hoping that if it was a dream, he would have at least felt your lips at least once, but it isn't a dream, it was real, and you couldn't be happier.

''Thank god, now I can finally breathe normally around you guys!'' Sam exclaimed as he walked out of the bar with a huge grin on his face. You and Bucky quickly pulled apart and let each other go, mostly out of reflex as it kind of felt like he caught the two of you doing something unspeakable. ''Don't stop on my account, I don't care what the two of you do as long as you both keep it in your pants,'' he said and you turned bright red and you stared at the pavement, you would never get used to comments like that. ''Doll, can you look at me?'' Bucky said as he placed a finger under your chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. ''I love you, and I will never let you go now that I know you love me too,'' he said, sealing it with another soft kiss on your lips. You felt truly happy in this moment, and wouldn't change it for the world.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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writerslittlelibrary · 11 months ago

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So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back.

Dreykov would’ve been so proud.

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave.

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only.

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out.

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder.

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep.

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for.

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant.

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him.

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either.

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work.

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck.

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks.

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body.

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor.

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her.

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements.

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again.

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed.

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers.

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic.

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight.

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria.

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go.

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe.

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself.

No wonder you couldn’t get loose.

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow.

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again.

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage.

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go.

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach.

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down.

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have.

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face.

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move.

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down.

But you didn’t let it.

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor.

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that.

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit.

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit.

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen.

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him.

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery.

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work.

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere.

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system.

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children.

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students.

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany?

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week.

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy.

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon.

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched.

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it.

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room.

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room.

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s.

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting.

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt.

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement.

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved.

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it.

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it.

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile.

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it.

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?”

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha.

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water.

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations.

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her.

“You’re here to bring me in.”

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic.

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head.

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied.

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong.

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished.

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond.

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile.

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.”

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts.

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head.

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion.

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her.

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going.

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink.

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried.

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.”

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in.

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point.

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you?

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged.

You sighed deeply.

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious.

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door.

What had you done…

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

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delicatebarness · 6 months ago

Text

cry baby | chapter eight

Summary: Confessions.

Warning: Mentions of John Walker. Mentions of Cheating.

Word Count: 1848

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Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I can't wait for the John Walker parts to be over. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Two weeks had passed since John’s disappearance, and the news reports were all the same, no new leads or theories, it became tedious. Yet, there was a cloud of suspicion lingering over you and The Avengers, simply because the others were known as the ‘tough’ guys in the city, they were associated with trouble whether deservedly or not.

As you settled into your usual seat in the bar, the dim lighting cast shadows that danced across the wooden table, and a warm sense of familiarity washed over you. Your friend's laughter filled the air as you caught up with each other and your lives.

However, the moment of tranquility was shattered as the door swung open, and in strode a woman, a mask of rage and desperation over her features. You noticed her as she scanned the room, her eyes locked on your booth, a shiver sent down your spine as you retreated your gaze over to Bucky.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she pointed an accusatory finger toward the group, mainly aimed at Steve. “I know you lot had something to do with it.” A tense silence fell over the bar, you exchanged wary glances with your friends. You knew who she was, her face had been plastered all over the news the last two weeks.

Steve was the first of you to respond, with a calm but firm voice. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I think you have the wrong people,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, her fists were clenched at her sides. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she spat, her voice began to tremble. “You’ve always been into trouble, you can’t expect me to believe any of you are innocent.”

Natasha rose from her place in the booth, her demeanor was composed but unwavering. “We understand that you’re worried, but we genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice was steady.

Sam nodded in agreement, “We may have a reputation, but this wasn’t us.” he tried to explain without letting his frustration get the better of him.

You couldn’t shake the unease that ate at you. You knew the truth - John had cheated on this woman with you. Even though you knew you hadn’t slept with him, the guilt of even going on dates with him and kissing him, bubbled up inside you. Your gaze flickered nervously to the floor as you tried to keep your composure.

Her gaze flickered between each one of you, rage and frustration taking over her features. “I won’t rest until I find out what happened to him,” she vowed, determination thickened in her voice as her gaze landed on you. Staying there for a moment longer than they all liked.

Bucky stood, his presence snapping her out of the haze that set her focus on you. “We understand you’re in pain, but coming here to accuse us… won’t bring him back,” he said, his voice calm.

With a final glare, toward you, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving a tense silence behind her. The bar remained quiet for a moment before the chatter resumed. As you and your friends got comfortable in your booth again, the weight of the accusation and your own guilt pressed down heavily on your mind.

The accusation from John’s wife cast a shadow over your gathering, causing the rest of the evening at the bar to become a stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. Although everyone tried to return to their conversation and laughter, the tension was undeniable.

Ever perceptive, Bucky, noticed the worry that clouded your features. He stayed quiet as the night wore on, it wasn’t until the other became engrossed in a conversation that he leaned in closer to you. “Hey,” he said softly, searching your gaze. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” you replied, trying to sound upbeat and casual. He wasn’t convinced, he knew you too well. He noticed the slight tremble of your voice and the glossy coat over your eyes.

“You sure?” he pressed, “You seem more shaken than usual.”

Sighing, you remembered you couldn’t hide your feelings from him. “It’s just… the whole John situation,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t shake the guilt, Bucky. What if someone found out about us?”

His expression softened as his hand reached under the table, resting his hand against your thigh, his thumb brushing against your bare skin. “Hey, listen to me,” he said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who was married, not you. And, you had no idea about his wife, right?”

You shook your head, confirming his suspicion. “It’s just hard not to feel responsible,” you murmured, glancing around to make sure your other friends weren’t listening.

As Bucky began to respond, Steve interrupted. “Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he announced, standing from his chair at the head of the booth, stretching out his back. Everyone murmured in agreement, and soon you dispersed. Each other your friends heading their separate ways. Expect Bucky, as always, he lingered behind, waiting for you as you gathered your things.

“Want a ride home?” the concern was evident in his voice.

You nodded without hesitation, you loved the feeling of the cool night air against your skin, it helped clear your mind.

As you reached your apartment, you turned to Bucky. He smiled warmly before pulling you into a comforting hug. “You know I’m always here for you,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

With a final squeeze, he let you go as he watched you enter your apartment. He waited until he heard the click of the door lock before making his way out of the building.

Once inside, you leaned against the door. Everything from the evening replayed in your mind. You knew you had to try and find a way to move past this, but that was easier said than done.

The next few days at work are blurred from the routine tasks and your colleague's hushed whispers. You tried to remain focused on your job, yet the memory of John’s wife’s confrontation lingered. The office gossip showed no signs of dying down and the sense of dread consumed you every time you heard his name.

One afternoon, as you were packing up for an early finish, your phone buzzed.

Bucky ❤️‍🩹: Bar? Could use some company…

You smiled at his timing, grateful for the attached photo showing both his beer bottle and a cherry cold waiting in front of your usual seat. You send a quick reply, packing up the last of your things and heading to the bar.

The bar was a lot less crowded than it usually is when you arrive. You stopped Bucky already waiting at your booth with the pictured bottle still waiting in front of him. He greeted you with a smile as you slid into the seat opposite him.

“How was your day?” he asked, handing you a straw.

“Same as always,” you replied with a shrug, placing your straw in your cola before taking a sip. “Just trying to keep my head down.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, it’s been tough with all these rumors flying around.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I just want it to be over,” you admitted. “I can’t keep worrying about someone finding out.”

His eyes softened with sympathy. “Look, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it,” he assured you. “Anyway, it’s not like you slept with him…”

It took you a moment to think about his choice of words, you couldn’t recall ever telling him you hadn't slept with John or not. Shaking your head, the thought left your mind. Of course, Bucky knew you never slept with John, no one in this friend group can keep anything to themselves.

Just as you were about to change the subject, the door swung open, and again, in walked John’s wife. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Marching straight over, her expression was a mixture of determination and desperation.

“You,” she said, pointing a finger in your direction. “We need to talk.”

The bar fell silent, and everyone’s eyes turned to you. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you met her gaze, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Immediately standing up, Bucky positioned himself protectively in front of you. “Look, lady. We’ve already told you,” his tone was firm but calm. “We don’t know anything,”

Her eyes flicked to Bucky, then back at you. “She does,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need answers, now. John was last seen with people like… “She looked Bucky up and down before continuing. “... you. And, now he’s gone.”

You took a deep breath and began to fidget with the sleeves of your cardigan, trying to steady your nerves. “He wasn’t honest with you,” you began, your voice trembling. Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. Turning back to John’s wife, you noticed a mix of hope and fear in her eyes as she looked back at you. “I, I didn’t know he was married. I only found out after he disappeared. He… we were dating.”

Her eyes widened, her face draining of color. “What?” she whispered, taking a step back. “You’re saying…?”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes began to well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. If I had known, I never would have agreed to go with him.”

For a moment, she started at you, her emotions were conflicting on her face. Then, she looked down, her shoulders slumping as the reality of your words sank in. “I knew he was hiding someone,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “That doesn’t explain why he started coming home with his face black and blue…” she trailed off.

You noticed Bucky subtly move his hands to his pockets, concealing the marks on his knuckles that seemed like a permanent feature.

“I promise you, we had nothing to do with his disappearance,” you said, your voice shaking as the tears began to spill. “But, you deserved the truth about him.” You felt a pang of guilt knowing the pain that your words had caused.

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked back at you, “Thank you, I needed to hear it, even if it hurts,”

With a final moment in silence, she turned and left the bar. She left you and Bucky standing there, the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes full of empathy as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

The ambient noise of the bar returned as the conversation resumed around you. Sitting back down in the booth, the feeling of your confession set heavy on your shoulders. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, you still felt a sense of doubt.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x cry baby #cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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lovewithmary · 1 year ago

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(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: early chapter bc I am too impatient so I’m taking the poll results as is and assuming charles is the winner. anyways, drama is happening!!!

previous next series masterlist

"Evie's baking,"

"We know,"

"My daughter is baking for two tiny villages or two super soldiers, and none of you thought to ask if there was something wrong?" Tony asked, watching as his fellow Avengers, his wife, and his youngest daughter were all eating the pastries that Evie had been baking since she got off the phone.

"Parker tried grabbing the spatula from her hand, but she threw a bowl at his head. But luckily his Peter Tingle saved him and he dodged," Bucky explained, mouthful with a slice of one of the cakes Evie made.

"I told you not to call it the Peter Tingle!" Peter complained.

"I think she had a fight with Max," Morgan's tiny voice piped up, oblivious to the heads that turned to her.

"Morg, why didn't you say that earlier?" Pepper asked.

Morgan blinked innocently and shrugged, then said, "You didn't ask,"

"Okay, who wants to be the one to ask her about Max?"

A tense air fell between some of the most powerful people in the world, only for them to touch their noses and say, "Not it!"

Unfortunately for him, Tony himself was the last one to do it, which made him curse. "I should've just stayed in my lab," he muttered but went to the kitchen to see that Evie was already starting another batch of cupcakes as if the pile of used cupcake liners between Steve and Bucky wasn't enough.

"Hello, tesoro," Tony greeted, concerned at the fact that Evie barely reacted at the sound of his voice.

"The dining room isn't that far from the kitchen, papa. I don't need to have powers or be a Super Soldier to hear you guys," Evie commented.

"So, will it be easier to ask what happened between you and Max that's made you spiral into a hurricane of frosting— is that macrons? When did you learn how to make macrons?" Tony asked, caught off-guard.

"Max and I had a little misunderstanding. And I didn't know how to make macrons until earlier," Evie responded.

"A little misunderstanding? You're taking over my kitchen with baked goods for a little misunderstanding?"

"I will find a way to bake you if you don't stop!" She threateningly responded, the aforementioned spatula Peter tried taking was in her hand menacingly pointed at Tony.

Tony raised his arms up in surrender, "I won't ask then. I will just be here, in the corner of the kitchen, giving you moral support," he said, taking a step away from his daughter and near the door just in case.

Silence fell between the father and daughter, Evie angrily making a bowl of frosting while Tony was thinking about whether or not he had to bring in Pepper for his own moral support.

That was until, "Do I insert myself into people's business too much? Is it something I do regularly?" Evie blurted out.

"I think you insert yourself into people's business when you think you need to. I don't think it's a lot, but then again, you help me with my business, so I can't say it's too much," Tony shrugged.

She groaned, not getting a clear answer. She should've known that her dad wasn't going to outright tell her when she was being too invasive. "I'm serious, dad," she told him.

"Did Max say something? Whatever he said, ignore it. He drives for a living, he's wrong no matter what,"

"I thought you liked Max. You've known him since he was a kid,"

"I don't like him if he makes my daughter upset,"

"Dad..."

"What did he say?" Tony asked once more.

Evie sighed before washing her hands and grabbing her phone from the pocket of her apron and then giving it to her dad, unlocked and the texts already on the screen. She watched as her dad's face turned angry.

"I'll shoot him out of the sky with one of my repulsors—"

"Dad, no,"

"He didn't have to talk to you like that! That little shit—"

"What do I do?" Evie interrupted him, knowing that if she let him rant, he'd end up wearing one of the Iron Man suits, already on the way to wherever the next race was.

"Do what Starks do best,"

"Which is?"

"To get under people's skin,"

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 ig au #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #avengers crossover #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fic

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plussizefantasia · 6 months ago

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Don't Call Me Kitty

Bucky Barnes x Black Cat! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1/6

Next>

Warnings: Reader is plus size and it's talked about being somewhat of a negative thing (its not) , language, I think that's it

AN: This is part one of the BlackCat!Reader x Bucky work that I've been working on for a while. It was a request although I can't seem to find the original request anymore. This is part one of six, all fully written but I decided to split it up because this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I wanted to publish it in chunks. Let me know if you like it, or if the rest of this should just stay hidden in my drafts for all of eternity.

If you had to spend one more fucking minute in the same car as James Buchanan Barnes, one of you would be dying. And you are pretty fucking confident that it won't be you.

He won't get off your back. Every chance he has it seems like he launches himself at the opportunity to remind everyone that you weren’t always the goody two shoes he thinks you are pretending to be. But God forbid you call him out on the obvious hypocrisy he's spewing because then you’d have to face Rogers and the inevitable tirade he’d go off on about how his best friend was never a bad man, just deeply broken and how the actions he’d taken while under Hydra’s control were not his own.

You don’t take issue with Barnes bringing up your past, it's not a secret. Everyone on the team had at one point been the focus of your ire on one of your bad days and that more often than not led to some sort of discussion where you would disclose more and more about the things you were trying to forget. Your issue with Barnes was that he was trying to insinuate you were one of the good guys. And you’d rather die than admit you were an Avenger.

You are not, nor will you ever be a good guy. You aren’t necessarily a bad guy, but you are not a goody two shoes. Barnes knows that, he also knows that it pisses you off to no end when he tries to tell everyone that you're acting like one.

“Shoulda seen the way she was sucking up to Fury Stevie, she’s trying to be teacher’s pet I’m tellin’ ya.” You were not sucking up to Fury you were stealing his wallet and trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the fifty bucks you lifted, but Barnes didn’t need to know that.

The worst thing about this hate that you have for James Barnes was the fact that you know deep down you don’t hate him at all. Sure, he pushes your buttons and knows just what to say to get you to want to knock his pretty little teeth out. But he's also a genuinely good guy and most of the time isn't all that bad to be around. But god it's so much easier to hate him than it is to sift through all those feelings.

There was also the fact that the two of you work well together. You can be bickering one second and covering each other’s sixes flawlessly the next. You have a theory on that though, you think that because both of you had been forced to work with people you didn’t trust very much at one point or another you got used to getting the job done no matter what other feelings were floating around in the background. That's what you try to convince yourself is the case. The idea that you and Barnes simply make a good team is nauseating.

Barnes isn’t only good to have in the field though, he has proved his worth off the battlefield when he knocked around some poor recruit who had been running his mouth about you in the training gym. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty and honesty you weren’t going to hold his ignorance against him. If he underestimated you because of your size, then that was on him and in a way, was only gonna help you in the long run.

That was something that you had noticed early on, that most people couldn’t fathom that someone who wasn't a size four could be as good at your job as you are. “Most People” also included people on your team, it had taken you saving Tony’s life in the field more than once for him to admit that he was wrong about you. You are still trying to convince Thor that just because you look soft does not mean you can’t still kick his ass.

You have made people’s lack of faith in you into a good thing. Rich guys aren’t worried about their wallets or watches when a meek little thing bumps into them on the subway and who would suspect the overweight chick to be the one who scales the sides of buildings to get her hands on some unreleased tech from Hammer’s R&D department? Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has never regarded you with the same kind of hesitance as the others. He has never once made it seem like he thought you couldn’t get the job done because you were bigger. And you had to admit, it's refreshing. Not that you need his approval but it's still nice to not be looked at with some kind of doubt, or incredulity. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t piss you off though.

“I swear to God Barnes, if you change the radio station one more time I’m gonna cover your whole arm in fucking extra strength magnets while you're asleep.” An interesting threat sure, but one you will one hundred percent follow through on.

“The station keeps changing to static, kitty, you want to listen to static for the next three hours?” He asks. He's right, you are both on your way to some ball in Alabama and according to Tony, all the Quinjets are in use for this weekend (bullshit), which leaves you and Bucky to get there the old fashion way, a road trip.

You're already eight hours in and are currently driving through the small towns and mountains that cover a good section of the south. Which means that the radio is cutting in and out. And yeah he's right, you don’t want to listen to static but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’d prefer the goddamn static over the song changing every five fucking seconds.”

“Well, it’s either that or silence, kitty.”

“First of all Barnes, I’ve told you not to call me kitty. It’s demeaning. Secondly, maybe some silence will do you good, you might be able to hear yourself think for once. If you’re capable of thinking.” You shoot back at him.

“Oh, kitty I have plenty of thoughts I’m pretty sure I think enough for the two of us.” He looks at you without turning his head away from the road, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Oh yeah, about what? How to get more beefy? Whatever the next idiotic insult you’ll hurl at our resident birdbrain will be? Whether or not you'll get wrinkles from the perpetual furrow in your brow?”

“I don’t think you want to know what goes on in my head, Mittens.” He pulls his bottom lip up in between his teeth to stop the smirk that is spreading across his face.

“You did not just call me fucking Mittens” Your jaw is practically on the floor. The audacity of this man.

“You said I couldn’t call you kitty. What are my other options?”

“Maybe my name? Asshole.” You also have to fight back a smile. Teasing Barnes is nice, it was the closest thing you have to a genuine relationship. Too bad you can’t stand him.

“You memorized your cover?” He asks you. You almost scoffed at him, you're not a goddamn amateur.

“Of, course. I’m Debrah Longborne, Georgian peach and heiress to my Daddy’s large fruit processing fortune.” This mission is a simple one. You're here to take down a corrupt governor and what better place to do than at the gala he and his wife organize every year? You had Tony donate to his wife’s foundation under your cover name. Large enough to draw attention but not too much attention that you can’t get your job done. “And you…?”

“Brantley Moore, Law professor at Vanderbilt, and your arm candy for the night.” You like going undercover, and this assignment is a short one, just one weekend. It's almost like being another person, just with all your skills and an ulterior motive.

“Who the hell picked the name Brantley?” You ask.

“I know right, I sound like some preppy douchebag”

“Not too far off then.”

“Fuck off.” He laughs. You like his laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he does it, a brief glimpse into the years he has lived through, not all sunshine and rainbows, but enough joy to have laugh lines.

“So Debrah and Brantley met where?”

“Vanderbilt has society mixers every winter, where the professors and some select students get the chance to network with some donors and other important people. It’s a believable story plus there’s over a thousand attendees at these things which makes it easy to slip our names onto the list.”

“And whose idea was that?” you lift an eyebrow. “Mine.”

“How do you know about the Vanderbilt mixers?”

“I had a life before I met you, didn’t you know that.”

“I knew you had a life I guess I just didn’t assume it involved rubbing elbows with southern socialites at prestigious university parties.”

“I wasn’t rubbing elbows, it was for a deal made by Peirce with the university president, I was there as a bodyguard for Pierce and to cover our tracks when things inevitably got bloody.” Any hint of teasing falls from Bucky’s voice. He says shit like that sometimes. Shit that you think he says to scare you or to remind you how dangerous he was. All it does is make you sad. Nobody deserves to go through what he had, and you hate that those evil bastards had taken a great man and mangled him.

The conversation peters out after his revelation. The two of you ride in silence for the next two hours. Thirty minutes in, you get closer to the city and the radio sputters back to life. Bucky reaches to turn it off.

When you finally reach the hotel both of you are a bit on edge. You’ve been driving all day, switching back and forth every few hours but Bucky’s silence for the last little stretch seems to have affected both of you more than you’d thought.

Still, you have a job to do and you’ll be damned if you let the metal-armed nuisance ruin your reputation for perfect follow-throughs. You grab your small weekender bag out of the backseat and make your way to the front desk. You school your features and dust off the southern belle persona that has been stashed away in your metaphorical conman toolbelt.

You can feel Bucky trailing behind you, and an idea pops into your head. Swiftly turning on your heel you pass your bag into his unoccupied hand. Not giving him a chance to say no you rotate back around and march forward at a pace fitting to a very busy society woman.

Bucky sputters behind you and you toss over your shoulder, “If I’m playing an heiress this weekend, I'm not lifting a goddamn finger if I don’t have to.”

Marching the rest of the way to the desk you flash the young woman behind the counter a polite smile, “Room for Longborne”. She immediately matches your smile and begins typing away on her keyboard pulling up the reservation that was made for your cover.

“Of Course Ms. Longborne, I have you down for the Iris sweet for three nights is that correct?”

“Sounds correct to me, although if you could hold the room for one more day that would be just peachy of you, we don’t know how long our business here is going to take and it’s better to be safe than sorry. You understand of course.” You put every ounce of Southern charm into your words and pray to God that this interaction can be over sooner rather than later.

“Of course Ms., Here are your keys. Your room is on our twelfth floor and the number is embossed on the front of the card.” She hands you a package of three cards across the desk. “If you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”

You nod, taking the key cards from her hand, and motion for Bucky to follow you to the elevator.

The ride up to the twelfth floor is silent, much like the last stretch of the car ride. What you aren’t expecting is Bucky’s exclamation when he walks into the room before you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.”

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

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Chapter 6, Unattached - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, angst (Bring on the Pain!), alcohol usage, dumbass Bucky, noncon kissing that becomes con kissing, so..., arguing, jealous!Pocket, posessive!Bucky.

Word Count: 5.4k

Previously On...: After Bucky left you alone in your room, not wanting people to get 'the wrong idea' about the two of you, you came to the horrible conclusion that you were in love with your best friend. What the hell are you going to do about that?

A/N: Wow, okay! So, first off, Chapter 6 is long, and it only has the one part, so don't worry if you go looking for more and the next thing you find is Chapter 7! Second, there's a lot of progress and updates on Unwanted I wanted to share! I am already well into writing Chapter 14, and have planned out the rest of the story. We'll have a total of 25 chapters, plus an epilogue (unless something strikes me creatively that throws the entire thing for a loop, then all bets are off). This beast, as it currently sits, is already 208 Google Docs pages long and just shy of 80k words, so final product is probably going to be novel-length, which just blows my mind. I want to give a special shout out to @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for being my beta and my sounding board; your help and support has been immeasurable!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief

You stood in front of the doors to the common room, the low thrum of conversation and music filtering out from inside. Taking a deep breath, you tried for the umpteenth time to calm your nerves following your unsettling realization.

You had no idea how to approach this, how to approach Bucky. Do you tell him how you felt, in the hope that he felt the same way? But what if he didn't? Could you risk losing him all together? Or do you just keep on like nothing's changed, happy with what you have together? Would that be enough for you? Could you even be happy in a real relationship?

Why couldn't your mother have just been a decent human being and let you go to school like a normal child so you could have worked through all your awkward issues at the appropriate time, instead of saddling you with years of trauma and isolation that left you an emotionally stunted adult? God, you needed a strong drink and to talk to Nat, preferably in that order. Pushing open the common room door, you stepped inside, surveying the room with one eye out for Bucky, the other out for your friend.

It should have been of no surprise, then, that instead of either, you first spotted Jade Carthage. She was situated on a couch in the center of the room, like a queen on her throne before her court, and nearly every Avenger and agent with a penis was surrounding her, jockeying for her attention, even Clint who, you knew for a fact, loved his wife Laura more than life itself.

Your stomach dropped when, after one of the agents in front of the couch shifted slightly, you saw Bucky sitting immediately to Jade's left. And while it seemed like everyone else was clamoring for Jade to pay attention to them, she only had eyes for him. Jealousy coursed through you as she leaned in close, whispering something into his ear that had him throwing his head back in laughter. It was an entirely unpleasant sensation that you would be happy to never feel again. Especially because you knew you had no real right to feel it in the first place. You may have just realized you were in love with him, but he had made no similar declaration to you.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself. It was like she could read your mind.

Nat shrugged. "So long as I'm not the one cleaning up the mess, I say have fun. But what happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

Nat's eyes widened as a grin took over her face. "Honey, that's fantastic!" She leaned in to give you a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" Taking in your forlorn expression, she quickly lost her good humor. "Why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

You cast another glance over at the couch. Jade was tracing her fingers along the golden veins of Bucky's vibranium arm and you felt like snakes were crawling through your stomach. "Because I don't know what the fuck to do about it, Natty," you told her with a sigh. "I've never felt like this before in my entire life and it's fucking terrifying; what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he does and I mess everything up because I'm so fucking damaged inside?"

Natasha looped her arm through yours, leaning into you. "Honey, first of all, you are not damaged. You've been through hell and it left its mark on you, that's true, but you've been so strong. We're House Martell, remember?"

You sniggered, remembering how, when the entire Tower was obsessed with watching Game of Thrones together and picking what houses you'd each belong to, you and Nat had been drawn to the words of the ruling house of Dorne. And also, Pedro Pascal, obviously.

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," you recited from memory, a reminder that despite the obstacles life had thrown at you, you remained standing, stronger for what you had endured.

"Atta girl," Nat nudged you with her elbow. "And second of all, you don't need to worry about Bucky's feelings. Boy's obviously mad for you. Everyone can see it."

You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. "I don't know, Nat. He's been acting strange lately. I tried to give him head earlier and he flat out rejected it." Come to think of it, that was exceptionally weird since, in your text exchange, he'd explicitly told you he'd been waiting in your room specifically for the purpose of getting off.

"Huh. That's... not like him." Nat tilted her head and looked over at Bucky, expression curious. "Did he say why?"

"He was real eager to come up here and get in the middle of that, apparently." You waved a hand in the general direction of the couch where Jade's little reverse-harem was still going strong. "I was getting on my knees and everything."

Nat raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"And then he made a really big deal about us coming up here separately. Said he didn't want people getting 'the wrong idea' about us if we arrived together."

Letting go of your arm, Natasha spun to face you, her face a mask of anger. "He said what now?!" she practically shouted, temporarily drawing everyone's attention to you. You looked around sheepishly as you tried to dismiss their stares.

"Nat," you begged in a whisper, "keep it down."

"Okay, okay, sorry." Natasha lowered her voice to a level only you could hear. "I'm sorry, but that's just complete and utter bullshit. Look, I know you guys think you've been in super secret stealth mode about hiding it, but pretty much everyone on the team knows you've been sleeping together. Hell, most of us placed bets on it." You opened your mouth in order to protest but she cut you off.

"If anything, it's weirder if the two of you don't show up to something together, so I don't know what the hell he's thinking."

"I do," you said morosely. "He doesn't want her getting the wrong idea about us."

"Pocket, don't even let your mind go there," Nat said.

"Think about it, Nat; I've been standing here for what, fifteen minutes now? And he hasn't even looked at me. When's the last time that happened?"

Nat's brows creased, her expression clouding over into something immensely sad for you, and you knew she was realizing what you'd already seen. In the last year, you and Bucky had been attached at the hip, nearly physically joined to one another, and if you were apart, your eyes were always scanning the room in search of the other's presence, seeking them out. The fact that he hadn't even looked for you, let alone come to you since you walked in, was telling in its own heartbreaking way.

Nat let out a heavy sigh. "Oh Pocket. Honey, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes if you kept down this path. "Don't Natty, please. I can't fall apart, not here."

"Yeah, okay-- you're right. Now is not the time. Come on." Linking her arm through yours once again, she directed you toward the bar where Tony was standing, whiskey in hand. "If anyone can talk you to distraction," she murmured as you approached him, "it's Stark."

You let out a startled laugh and let her guide you toward the man who had already saved you more times than you could count.

"Hey, kiddo; Romanoff." Tony saluted you with his glass and you did your best to smile back at him as you stuffed your emotions down as far as they would go. "What do you think of our new recruit?" he asked Nat.

"I think 'Weasel' would be a better fitting code name for her than 'Vixen,'" Nat replied with a sly smile as she took a sip of wine.

"Ah, saw the security feed, did you?" Tony asked her. Nat nodded.

"Watched it live as it happened. Wasn't going to leave my bestie without eyes on her six." She gave your arm an affectionate squeeze.

Tony hummed and glanced over to the couch. "Wish Cap had been as discerning as you. He refused to watch the feed; said it made him uncomfortable to spy on someone when they didn't know they were being recorded." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Always the fucking Boy Scout," she murmured.

"So, how did the interview itself go?" you asked Tony, not really sure you wanted to know the answer, but feeling the need to punish yourself with the details, anyway.

Tony leaned back against the bar, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. "If it were up to me, we wouldn't even be playing this charade right now," he said, motioning with his chin to indicate the meet and greet. "Girl's a first-class bullshitter."

"Talent recognizing talent?" you asked with a wry smile that almost felt genuine.

He pointed a finger and winked at you. "Exactly. She talked a good talk, but it doesn't take much to see she's suffering from Big Fish, Small Pond Syndrome. She's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she's ready to swim in the ocean with the whales and the sharks."

"So, you're not going to offer her the probationary position?" you asked, hope rising pathetically in your chest. As if you could un-ring the bell.

"Oh, I didn't say that," Tony said as you deflated. "It's not all up to me. Though, given the fact that I personally fund this entire operation, you'd think it really should be, right?" At the look on your face he moved on. "Apologies, I digress. Anyway, Cap thinks it's only fair we offer it to her, seeing as how we don't have a ton of other options knocking on our door, and Fury's not going to get off my ass until we find someone." He sighed. "I think this entire exercise is a waste of time, and we should be kicking her out on her ass for how she treated you earlier, Pocket, but I'm outvoted."

"Thanks, Boss," you said softly, grateful at least that Tony could see through Jade's facade and took how she treated you seriously. Too bad your best friend couldn't offer you the same courtesy.

The timer on Tony's watch went off. "And that's the dinner bell," he said, putting down his glass. Clapping his hands, he called out to the rest of the room. "Attention Avengers, SHIELD Agents, and... whoever else managed to sneak in off the street! Dinner is served, so if we could all head to the dining room before the food gets cold and Raul quits on me, I'd appreciate it very much."

You held back as the crowd of people noisily moved to the dining room, hoping to catch Bucky's eye, but he remained steadfastly absorbed in his conversation with Jade.

"Come on, honey," Nat said as she took your elbow. "You can talk to him during dinner. You nodded and allowed her to lead you into the dining room. You and Bucky had sat next to one another, without fail, for every meal for the last year, the only exception being when one of you was away on a mission. You'd have plenty of opportunities to talk to him while you ate.

Normally, you all ate at one large table, but since this was a special occasion that required the attendance of a lot more than just the regular 13 members of your family (14, if Parker was around), Tony had the dining room arranged more like a restaurant, with a series of smaller tables spread out throughout the space.

You and Nat followed Bucky and Jade to a six-top where Steve and Sam were already getting ready to sit down, but you froze in your tracks when Bucky pulled back a chair for Jade, pushing it in behind her as she sat down before taking the seat next to her.

The air seemed to grow heavy, as though it weighed too much for you to draw it into your lungs and your chest began to hurt. How could such a simple action be causing you so much physical pain?

Steve, who had already been sitting at Bucky's other side at the head of the table, caught your eye and moved to get up to offer you his chair, instead, as though that could make up for Bucky's dismissal of you.

You subtly shook your head, not wanting to draw attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way over to the only two remaining seats at the table: the one next to Sam that was directly across from Jade and Bucky or the one next to Jade at the opposite end of the table from Steve. Deciding it was better to be sitting across from Steve than either of the other two, you opted for the chair at the end, and Nat slid in next to Sam.

You cast a quick glance in Jade's direction and had to stifle a sick laugh-- she was physically coming between you and Bucky, quite literally.

Jade reached a hand out to Nat across the table. "Wow! Black Widow! It is so great to meet you! My name's Vixen; I'm a huge fan! I'm so excited for us to be working together!"

Bless Nat, she just stared at the girl with arms crossed across her chest, impassive and judging, until Jade slowly and awkwardly pulled her hand back.

"I take it, then, that you've deemed the Avengers good enough to be your backup team?" Nat asked without expression.

You did your best to cover the laughter that escaped from you with a fake cough, but you didn't try very hard to be convincing.

"What's this about, now?" Steve asked, leaning forward.

"Little Vixen over here," Nat began, leaning back in her chair until she was perched on the two rear legs, "was live-streaming this morning to her social media followers. Told them it wasn't so much that the Avengers were interviewing her to see if she'd be good for the team, but she was interviewing us to see if we'd be good back up for her."

Jade had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment before she turned to face you for the first time, anger taking over her features. "So, what? Didn't much take you for a tattler. You that intimidated by me?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but were interrupted by the sound of the legs of Nat's chair slamming back against the floor. "Pocket didn't tell me shit. I heard it straight from your mouth on the security feed. That and a lot of other interesting things."

"You're spying on her, Nat? Really?" Bucky spoke up. "She's our guest and she deserves a modicum of privacy, don't you think?" You stared at him, open mouthed, but he didn't spare you a glance.

"It was a part of her interview, Barnes," Nat spat. "Maybe if you---"

"Okay, Nat, Bucky," Steve said, using his official Captain America voice, "let's table this conversation for later and just enjoy our meal. Raul worked really hard on tonight's menu, so let's not spoil it for him, alright?"

Both Nat and Bucky grumbled their agreement as the catering staff brought out the first course and placed them on each of your plates. Normally, you loved when Raul, Tony's personal chef, cooked meals for the team; he always made sure to throw in something with lemon in it, knowing how much you loved the flavor; but tonight, your appetite was failing you and you ended up pushing more food around on your plate than you put in your mouth.

You couldn't help but steal glances over at Bucky, who continued to be wrapped in conversation with Jade. You tried to keep up with what the others were saying, occasionally nodding your head in agreement to something, but you weren't able to pay any real attention; your mind was elsewhere until you noticed Jade looking at you.

"You know, I have to say I'm surprised to see so many non-Avengers here. I got the impression that this group was... I dunno, elite? But it seems like you just let anyone in."

Steve laughed from the other end of the table. "Being an Avenger is a team effort, Vixen. Everyone plays their part. And besides, Pocket here's just as much an Avenger as I am." The comment took you by surprise, and you gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched by his words.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended, and all the warmth you'd felt at Steve's compliment vanished in an instant, leaving you feeling cold and hollow. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities or powers or what have you, but she's got a brilliant mind. She's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation from MIT, three Master's degrees, she speaks seven languages, she's got a black belt in Krav Maga, and she was the youngest Chief Technology Officer in Stark Industries history; all without ever having formally graduating high school. It's no exaggeration for me to say that I'd be dead a couple of dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her even more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do– primarily because of things that happened to us by accident; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks, and the strength and quality of the work she’s willing to put in. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You looked at Steve as if seeing him for the very first time. You had no idea he thought so highly of you, and his praise warmed you. You offered him a soft smile, your throat tightening with emotion and leaving you unable to express your gratitude. You mouthed a silent thank you instead, hoping that conveyed how much his words meant to you. He winked back at you in acknowledgement.

Bucky glanced back and forth between the two of you, as if analyzing your silent exchange. He coughed awkwardly. "I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the really dangerous stuff," he backpedaled, poorly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, expression blank, until he looked away in embarrassment. Good. Let him feel an ounce of the discomfort you’d been feeling this entire time.

Small talk resumed around the table, with Sam telling Steve about some new modification he was making to Redwing, and Bucky and Jade back to being locked in their own bubble. You did your best to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jade directed to Bucky, but it felt like your eyes were drawn to them like a magnet every time she touched him. Which seemed to be happening more and more frequently. You couldn't help but notice the way he leaned toward her when she spoke. Did he ever do that when he was talking with you?

"So, Bucky," Jade said eventually, her voice low and flirty as the caterers took away the main course, "handsome super hero like you, you seeing anyone?" Your eyes snapped up to Bucky's face, watching him. Surely he was going to look to you, make eye contact, something to acknowledge what was between you, to make you feel like you were in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet as him. But he didn't.

"Nope," he said, running his hand over the back of his neck like he always did when he was feeling self conscious or nervous. "Not seeing anyone, though I'm not opposed to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that had hurt less than hearing the words that had just come out of Bucky's mouth. It took everything in you to resist getting up from the table and leaving the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere at your table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Bucky either was oblivious to the stares or was doing a great job patently ignoring them.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jade's and not yours. How could he sit there and just completely deny you like that? Had you been deluding yourself? Had you just been some kind of fuck toy this entire time?

The caterers brought the next course, a cold raspberry soup. You sat there, staring into space as you mechanically spooned the soup into your mouth, trying your hardest to appreciate the taste, but everything seemed bitter in light of Bucky's attitude, actions, and words.

"Could you hand me the water carafe?" Bucky asked. You looked up to watch Jade hand him the bottle of water. "Thanks, doll," he said, smiling at her.

You dropped your spoon, letting it fall into your nearly empty bowl with a reverberating clang. Your companions at the table stared, eyes wide as their gazes traveled between you and Bucky. In his entire time at the tower, he had never once called another woman 'doll.' It was a moniker he'd specifically reserved for you.

Or, it used to be.

You could tell the exact moment when Bucky realized he'd fucked up. His eyes locked on yours, the color draining from his face. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak to you, but you'd had enough. Without a word, you pushed back your chair with enough force that it practically tipped over and exited the dining room.

You made it all the way to the elevator before you heard him calling for you.

"Doll! Doll, where are you?" You stabbed repeatedly at the call button, as if it would bring the car to you faster. You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, and you really didn't want to talk to him right now.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you slid inside, turning to press the 'Close Door' button just as you saw Bucky turn the corner to the elevator bay. You were ready to breathe a sigh of relief at evading him until Bucky's metal hand shot in the diminishing space between the closing doors. You were trapped.

"Doll, didn't you hear me callin' to you?" he asked as he slid into the car with you.

You looked around, as if searching for another person in the car. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? Should probably be more specific with your pet names, then. A girl’s liable to get confused." You were impressed that the words came out as hard and bitter as you felt inside.

Bucky flinched. "I deserved that."

You leaned forward to press the button for your floor before crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You fucking think?"

"Look, it just slipped out, okay? I didn't mean anything by it. It's not a big thing you needed to storm out over." You rolled your eyes at him, disgusted that that was the only thing he seemed to realize he'd done to offend you all evening. "Pocket, can we just talk about this?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" you asked, jutting out your hip in annoyance. "Seemed like earlier today, you couldn't wait to not be seen with me, or do you no longer care if people get the wrong idea?"

"Alright," Bucky said, slamming his fist against the elevator's emergency stop button. You stumbled as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky tried to put his hands on you to steady you, but you pushed him away. "What is going on with you today, Pocket?"

"What's going on with me?" you asked him, incredulous. "What's going on with you? You've been an ass to me all night, that is when you weren't acting like I didn't exist."

"How am I being an ass?" he asked, voice rising. "You're the one who couldn't even hold a civil conversation with our guest! It was embarrassing!" You recoiled as if he'd slapped you, backing away from him until your back hit the elevator wall.

"Wow. Okay then." You blinked heavily, telling yourself not to cry. You'd be damned if you showed weakness in front of him now. Bury the emotions, encase them in ice. "Sorry I'm such a fucking embarrassment to you, Sergeant Barnes. Now that I know how you feel, I'll make sure to stay out of your way so you don't have to put up with me." You moved to press the button to restart the elevator, but Bucky grabbed your wrist.

"Don't do this," he growled at you. "Don't hide behind snappy quips so you can shut down and avoid having a real conversation with me." You stared between his eyes and where he held your wrist in his metal grip. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but it was tight enough to keep you from breaking free.

His gaze softened as he watched you. "I never said I was embarrassed of you, Pocket. I just don't know why you had to be so rude to Jade at dinner tonight."

"Name one thing I did that was rude to her," you challenged.

"Okay," Bucky stuck out a finger as though he were about to count off all your grievous errors. "Let's see... You said... No, that was Nat... You were... okay, Steve said that... You said... No, that was Nat again." He looked up at you sheepishly. "So, maybe you actually didn't say anything during dinner, but not talking to her was still rude."

You scoffed. "You want to talk rude and embarrassing, Bucky? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have everyone staring at me when you pulled out my chair for Jade, or when my own best friend didn't defend me when she had the audacity to call me a fucking tattler? Like I’m some kind of fucking child?" Your voice was rising and you could feel yourself getting swept up in your anger. "How about the pity looks I got when everyone heard you lie about not seeing anyone, or when you called her 'doll'? Or when you told her I was 'Avengers-adjacent'? You think I'm the embarrassing one? You made me feel like an insignificant piece of shit tonight, Barnes. God, if it hadn't been for Steve saying what he said, you would have driven me to tears."

Bucky had been staring down at his boots as you'd been speaking, as though your accusations were too much for him to face head-on, but at the mention of Steve's name, his head snapped up, blue eyes like ice on your face. "Well, if Steve's such a hero, why aren't you fucking him, then?" he asked, voice clipped and bitter.

You yanked your wrist free from his grasp. "Maybe I should start!" you shouted. "At least he's not embarrassed of me and doesn't forget I exist when another pair of tits shows up!"

Bucky's gaze darkened and in an instant, he was on you, caging your body against the elevator wall, a hand on either side of your head. "Don't you even fucking joke about that," he snarled.

You jutted out your chin, refusing to show any sign of weakness, though his actions were beginning to frighten you. "Who says I'm joking? Sounds like a good idea to me; thanks for suggesting it." You moved to duck under his arm, but he grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

His breaths were coming hard and fast now, as though he'd just run a marathon. His gaze darted between your eyes and your lips, as though trying to make up his mind about something. In the next instant, his mouth was crashing down on yours, his tongue demanding entry.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Bucky took that as his invitation, deepening the kiss with a primal fervor. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. For a moment, you were stunned, unsure of what was happening. But then instincts took over – he was kissing you, really kissing you. Your stomach fluttered and your heart hammered in your chest.

One of your hands ran through his hair, while the other gripped his shoulder for support. His hands had somehow migrated beneath your shirt, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin at your sides. You returned his kiss with as much intensity as he gave. But then suddenly, as if waking from a dream, you remembered why you were angry with him. You pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.

You were both panting, and despite your attempt to put distance between your bodies, Bucky leaned down, resting his forehead against yours as he fought to catch his breath. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "Don't sleep with Steve."

"You realize how incredibly infuriating you're being right now, don't you?" you asked. "You can't just treat me like that, ignore me all night in favor of someone else, then kiss me and try to tell me who I can or can't sleep with."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said, nuzzling your nose with his, "I know and I'm sorry, but please, promise me: no matter how angry you are with me, don't sleep with Steve. You wanna fuck someone else to piss me off? Go fuck Sam, Thor, Rhodes, hell, even Parker. I'll hate it, but if it's Steve, it'll fucking kill me."

"Your signals are all over the place tonight, Buck," you sighed, letting out an involuntary moan as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck and sucked at your skin. You had to pull away before he turned you into a babbling mess. "If you think you can just kiss me into oblivion and I'll forgive you for everything you've said and done tonight, you better think again, because that's not happening."

Bucky ran both his hands through his hair, sending it pointing every which way. Then he pressed the emergency stop button again, letting the elevator resume its journey. "I know I owe you an explanation, Pocket," he said. "So, can we go to your room and talk? No interruptions, no one else, just you and me, okay?"

You studied him, considering. A part of you was still so angry at him that you didn't want to hear him out, but the part of you that loved him hated the idea of leaving things in a bad place. In your line of work, you never knew when your next goodbye might be your last goodbye.

"Fine," you said, dropping your shoulders with a sigh. "We can talk, I'll hear you out, but I'm not promising forgiveness."

He smiled, his eyes bright once again. "That's all I ask, Sweets. That's all I ask."

<- Previous Chapter / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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captainsimagines · 3 months ago

Text

the albatross || B.B || One-Shot

Summary: "Locked me up in towers, but I'd visit in your dreams. And they tried to warn you about me..."

Pairing(s): Winter Soldier x Vampire Fem! Reader

Trope(s): Unlikely friendship; Forbidden vibes; Awkward tension

Based on the Song: The Albatross by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 17,000+

Warnings: This one-shot contains explicit language, an identity crisis, graphic depictions of violence and blood loss, trust issues, cigarette smoking, and depressive thoughts/ideas. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is purely fanfiction.

If you would rather read this fanfic on AO3, here is the link.

Author's Note: I really liked this idea and surprisingly, it just spilled out of me. The ending is pretty open-ended because I do imagine a part 2, but I won't write it unless there's demand for it. Either way, I love this one-shot. I hope you guys do, too. ---xxMoni

The Soldier enjoys watching the stars.

The Captain likes to tell him these stories about Bucky Barnes, about how he also liked watching the stars when they made camp in war-torn France. Bucky Barnes would pretend to know the math behind it all, and though the Captain said the math was a load of bullshit, he swore up and down that Barnes did know how to read palms, however.

The Soldier doesn’t know how to read palms, but he does know how to calculate the stars now.

Hearing about his past self always put him on edge. He has another man’s name, another man’s face, another man’s life story. The Soldier was expected to relearn this, to find that lost part of himself that is “deep down, Buck, I know it.” Sometimes he’d remember that he liked strawberry jam, but only if he tried it out of pure coincidence. Sometimes he’d remember the voice of a man called Gabe Jones, or of Dum-Dum—Dugan—and it reminded him that he was two people at once. Those memories were no longer his—they were—but not really.

He was not—is not—Bucky Barnes anymore. In his head, at least.

He knew two things with absolute certainty though, two things the old Bucky Barnes would be happy the Soldier is keeping alive: Steve Rogers is his friend and it is the Soldier’s job to protect him, and that a thousand conversations are said in comfortable silence if you simply listen.

He passes the cigarette to the woman beside him, blowing the smoke out slowly into the frigid air. He hates the cold, but it’s better than a freezer. Freer up here on the roof of Avengers Tower. A chosen solitary. She takes the cigarette carefully, her grip extra tight since they’re hanging over the ledge. Legs swinging, hair rustling in the wind. Dropping the cigarette would cause no harm, only annoyance. They only bring four of them to their nightly meetings.

She inhales deeply, her decaying lungs inflating just the bit, her mouth doing most of the work. She doesn’t need to breathe, he’s found. On the rare occasions he is in her presence during the day, she never does. Not even to comfort those around her who watch her warily. He likes that. Placating others was tiresome, and the Soldier had refused to do it for anyone besides the Captain until he asked. For some reason, the crease between his brow makes his stomach turn and he knows Bucky Barnes would hate him for not smoothing it over.

The Soldier studies the woman at his right. He detects hints of dust—old cardboard, maybe—in the smoke she exhales. Her skin hadn’t paled in the way popular media suspected, nor did her hair turn white. Her skin looks ashy, her cheeks a little gaunt. The only proof she’s undead are the red eyes—he’s never seen her smile to verify the fangs.

They never exchange words out here. No one knows they’re out here at all. He had come out for fresh air after a particularly nasty fight with Stark a year ago and found her leaning upside down on the ledge. If she had jumped, he doesn’t think he would have leapt after her. He didn’t know her and would not miss her. Let her fall and his world was unmoved.

A year of nightly cigarettes and no more than a hundred words between them. They had built a sort of camaraderie—after a long day of pretending to be alive, they would sulk in peace together.

He knows her name, and she his. They have never called each other those names, but he suspects she would call him James before anything else. She doesn’t seem to want to be called anything. She’s content to sit in mutual silence and bask in her invisibility.

But the Soldier has seen her every night for a year, and everytime she is still solid. Everytime she is still dead.

The team has forbidden anyone from being alone with her. The Captain has forbidden him from being alone with her. Stark and Banner have a fear of the unknown, and what is unknown is uncontrollable. The Soldier wonders why she was invited to the team in the first place if she was going to be locked away and hidden from the world. He wonders why the Captain even rescued him if he was going to be a red stain as well. She refuses to answer their questions, refuses to show them how she feeds, and refuses to put a single limb in the sun for experimental purposes. The team is not sadistic enough—Stark isn’t sadistic enough—to force her to burn so he can scribble the results in a notepad. So unless she’s willing to be a science experiment, she cannot be trusted.

Unless the Soldier suddenly remembers the memories of a man lost to time, he cannot be trusted.

So he watches as her painted lips delicately wrap around the cigarette, their last one, and allows the strange delight to roll over him at the sound of her soft sigh.

“Goodnight,” she mumbles, her voice resembling the rustling of leaves in the dead of night. She has the same unsettling demeanor as he, perhaps more loose but still as real. The Soldier is meant to unnerve people. If they are terrified of him, they understand the depth of the mission. They will fall in line. As she rises, she grows in stature and dwarfs him. He finds he likes being the second most frightening creature in the room. He likes having a twin, finally, one that is not screaming inside his own head.

“Goodnight,” he replies, his gaze on the twinkling city lights. Brooklyn winks at him, refusing to fade.

The Soldier hears the roof door slam shut, and he is suddenly alone.

—————

The team is arguing.

Stark and the Captain crowd the large room they use for briefings while everyone else sits patiently at the long table. The Soldier occupies the single seat at the far end, the closest person to him being the Widow. She is watching the scene unfold with a stoicism that could rival his own, but she is more susceptible to that twitch in her upper lip. When Stark takes a dig at the Captain’s two-timing morality, she speaks up.

“You’re both idiots. I don’t see why we have to go empty-handed here, guys.”

Stark does his best to not roll his eyes, opting instead to squint at the Widow. “The mission is childsplay. I just think we’d have a lot more fun and a ton more juicy stories to tell if we bring all of us—”

“The answer is no, Tony. I will not bring—”

“Say it, Cap. I’m sure our cheeky little assassin here would love to hear your reasoning.”

The Captain sighs, his large hands resting atop his slender hips. The Soldier has a vague memory of a group of men around a campfire, all singing a tune in French and sour-tasting liquor spilling from their tongues, and the Captain watching with the same stance but with a grin instead. He realizes fast that this memory is attached to Bucky Barnes, and it is better off dead.

“Buck, you know I don’t like sending you out when there is no need.”

The Soldier hates team missions. He has no issues with killing—he’s rather good at it. The issue at hand is the lack of privacy, the dependence on one another, and the trust oozing from the Captain. The Soldier isn’t the best friend he so desperately wants, and he doesn’t know how to tell him that. Staying at the Tower is the best course of action in any situation. He frightens more people than he helps, and he would only get in the way.

He doesn’t respond to the Captain. He remains quiet, his brow furrowed as he looks between the two angry men.

“It’s a routine inspection, Cap. This would be the perfect opportunity to bring him and the vampire.”

His stomach clenches on itself, though he gives nothing away outwardly. He’s as still as ever, hands softly gripping the handles of the chair. He reminds himself to blink more than five times a minute, and that he needs to move more muscles than just his eyes. He’s too accustomed to being frozen for long periods of time. He is no stranger to perching for hours, to hiding in the shadows. The Captain had told him his lack of movement was uncanny.

But the mere mention of the vampire—

She had not gone on any missions yet. Her recruitment was more of a trial-run, on the basis that her input about vampires proved to be worthwhile. But it had been a year and Stark and Banner were no closer to studying the intricacies of such creatures. All they knew, or all they assumed, was what they saw from her. And since she was not allowed out of the Tower or on missions yet, they had seen little.

“What if she goes insane and feeds on a civilian?” the Colonel chimes in, shaking his head as the Captain scoffs at the accusation, “What? You don’t think she’d run given the first opportunity? I’ve told all of you that what you’re doing here is inhumane. Just because she hasn’t seen the sun in who knows how long doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to see a damn bakery or a night-time play. And keeping her locked up will trigger her to hurt someone sooner rather than later.”

The Soldier had never wondered about that. She and him were so alike that he just assumed she was content with her situation. He’d much rather be here than under the tentacles of Hydra. He believed she would much rather be here than in the sewers.

And it hit him—

How did she feed now?

“JARVIS doesn’t necessarily divulge details, but she’s clean with her victims. Ah, you see that on my scrumptious arms? Goosebumps. I’ve caught her eyeing these veins.”

The Soldier tilts his head, interested. The Widow marks it.

“She’s well-fed, then,” the Captain says, though the Soldier hears that subtle shake in his voice, “How do we know she won’t escape—”

“You’re acting like she’s our hostage,” the Widow snaps. She immediately casts an apology across the table. “If she escapes, she escapes. The sun will slow her down, and she knows it. You’re all debating this as if she’s tried. She hasn’t. She has caused no trouble so far. You’re all just too scared to send her out into the wild because you haven’t gotten to know her.”

The room silences. The man at the other far end of the table, the one he usually sees with metal wings across his broad shoulders, nods in agreement. At every briefing the Soldier has sat through, Wilson was the only one to ever bring her up in conversation. Small mentions that asked where she was at that very moment, if she had shared her family history yet, if she had fed and if not, was there anything he could do. The Soldier suspects Wilson would offer his own neck if the others agreed to it.

He doesn’t like talking about her at these meetings. Everyone acts like they have the perfect read on her. They don’t—even he doesn’t. But he does have first-hand knowledge on what the strain of her lungs sounds like, and the exact timbre of her voice. The Soldier knew more than them, and it spoiled him rotten.

“This is a controlled mission, Cap,” Wilson adds, shrugging. “I think this can be good for her. For Barnes. For you.”

The Soldier loosens a shoulder—the tiresome act of placating—and studies Wilson in the few seconds he’s afforded since the Captain is debating inside his head. Wilson is around his age, give or take a year or two, and he has never spoken ill about him before. He’s heard the Widow and Barton murmuring their distrust about the Soldier in the beginning, but he believes the Captain shut it down. Stark’s jokes were endless, but he finds them humorous sometimes. He is the only person to ever pull a smirk from him. Wilson never spoke bad about anyone. He doesn’t know if he likes that or not. He’s grateful in an odd way, but confused mostly. There are countless things to hate him for. Tender hearts are so easily breakable, and the Soldier finds he does not want to bruise Wilson’s.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” the Captain concedes. “Buck, you up for it?”

A choice. He’s not used to having choices.

“Okay.”

—————

Clouds block the majority of the stars tonight.

On nights like these, he focuses on the multi-colored lives of the occupants in surrounding apartments. There are some setting up Autumn colors, others keeping their sleek, modern aesthetic. The Soldier thinks he enjoys a splash of color. He has a habit of draining it all, but he likes it while it lasts.

The apartments are sporadically lit. Many have retired to bed. There’s a family of four returning and passing around boxes of takeout. A woman sits up in bed and reads a large fantasy novel, her cat resting lazily at the edge of her silk sheets. A teenager adjusts his computer monitor and readies a new level on the game he’s playing, an empty pizza box on his desk. So many lives happening at once—it overwhelms the Soldier. He does nothing all day besides lay in bed and eat and bathe when he has to. He has been wanting to take up knitting—something to do with his hands. Loading and taking apart guns isn’t as enjoyable as it used to be.

“They are going to take you on a mission,” he says, passing the cigarette. Her expression remains impassive. She inhales deeper than usual, his only indication that his statement affected her.

“Oh.”

She’s quick to brush him off. Good. She’s not so easily rattled. “I am going, too,” he adds.

A shrug. She passes the cigarette back. He inhales, an odd flutter in his chest as he wraps his lips around the lipstick-stained stick.

There’s a bruise on her jawline. Tilting his head, he follows the length of it. It takes him a moment, but he finally recognizes the shape. Five purpling indents, one palm-sized.

He didn’t even know she could bruise.

A sudden wave of rage nearly has him marching back into the Tower, ready to interrogate every team member at gunpoint. Their distrust shouldn’t warrant violence. Then the Soldier inhales the toxic smoke again, realizing that his emotions are pointless. The Soldier does not feel, nor does he feel sympathy for others.

The Soldier questions the validity of that statement.

Still, he ponders who could have possibly injured her. The only ones able to inflict such pressure and not kill are him, the Captain, Stark while suited-up, and the God. But they had no evidence of what strength she could or could not handle—it was entirely plausible that a regular man hurt her. And since she does not leave the Tower, the man could have been one of her meals.

Her meal fought back.

“How do you eat?” he asks before he can swallow it. He used to be punished for asking questions.

She turns her head slowly. It’s unsettling to the Soldier, so much so that he averts his eyes. “You know what I eat.”

“I asked how. Not who.” She blinks at him. “You don’t leave the Tower.”

This is the most they’ve spoken in one sitting. He always assumed she’d be the one to speak first. It seems she assumed the same.

“They bring me my meals.” A quick jump of his brow indicates his surprise. “You didn’t know that.”

He shakes his head. Does the Captain know? The Soldier had heard about interrogations happening at the Tower… Were these the same victims?

“The bad ones they keep alive. Captives. I get my pick of the litter,” she explains, though her solemn expression betrays the joy in her tone.

“Does it bother you?” he asks. The Soldier doesn’t care—shouldn’t care—and yet, he asks.

“I don’t care.” It seems she’ll not care for the both of them.

He wonders how often she needs to feed. If blood is the only thing she needs to survive. His knowledge of vampire lore comes from a few, mediocre clicks around the internet. Most articles or opinions claim that blood is their life source, but the exact time-stamp vampires can go without it is still a mystery. If she were to go without, willingly or not, would she wither away? Would she simply cease to exist?—How peaceful that sounds, actually. Would it be painless or would she feel every second? The Soldier did not feel time pass when frozen, nor did he comprehend it when allowed to breathe on his own.

“Are you skilled with weapons?” he asks. Invasions of privacy, like the Captain said, were not always welcome naturally. The truth was so much easier to obtain with a gun in hand, harder to earn with a fake smile. What really mattered was having the mission go smoothly. Maybe then the rest of the team will leave him alone and stop trying to make him assimilate. Maybe if the mission went smoothly for her, she’d steal their attention. He would be free. Free to just be.

“I don’t need them, but I have them.”

Irritation is an emotion that encases him fully nowadays. Irritation, agitation, resignation. Her bluntness rivals his, and it's itching at his skin. He liked it before—what is different today? “I am going on this mission, too. I need to know what you are skilled at to ensure the mission is a success.”

She flicks the dead cigarette bud over the ledge, watching as it gradually shrinks from sight. It was their last one. He will bring an extra one tomorrow.

“There are no stars tonight,” she laments. Her lips twist into a small pout, nearly invisible. She has pretty lips. “Goodnight.”

He waits until she’s gone to frown. The Soldier is confused.

—————

The team likes to get together Friday nights and watch movies in the common room. Usually the film is chosen to satisfy the Captain’s ignorance. His too, he has found. Though no one but Wilson includes him in that conversation.

The Captain, Stark, Banner, Wilson, and the Widow are the only ones present tonight. The younger agents are suspiciously absent, but he somewhat remembers Stark mentioning a Friday night outing. Figures, considering the ones in this room are easily recognizable.

If he were to walk around Times Square, would he cause a panic? The Soldier has been photographed a few times since returning from the shadows and each time the news outlets treat him like an enemy of state. He is, in a sense. There are plenty of things he knows that can crumble governments, but there’s no point in sharing them now. He’s not at war. He’s not under control. But he wonders what it would be like to walk around and enjoy life. To go out with friends, to dance, to go feed some pigeons. He could try—the Captain will definitely go with him—but he doesn’t know how. After so many years of feeling the sour depths of his soul, how is he expected to break through the surface in one day? The urge to be normal gnaws at him, twisting and peeling flesh and muscle, but it is so much easier to just lie in bed. If enough time passes, maybe it will just happen.

Time was going on, speeding past his memories and lungs. Too fast, so fast he couldn’t grab time’s dangling string to slow it down. He wanted to yank it back, scream at it that he’s trying to remember, and that his new memories are preventing him from finding the ones from before. There’s so much new information that he wanted to, needed to, slow time down. How was he ever able to be Bucky Barnes again if time prevented him?

He likes when the younger ones are around. They’re less judgmental. They actually try to speak with him. Granted, it’s stupid things like: “What was the Great Depression like?” or “Straight up, who was the harder kill? Kennedy or Stalin?” The Captain usually shuts them down, but he can’t help but chuckle from the absurdity of it once he’s alone.

“Feels weird watching this outside of a seventh grade classroom, but I promise you Steve, it’s a classic,” Wilson says, clapping the Captain on a shoulder. “The Outsiders is a rite of passage, and you my friend have not truly assimilated until you watch it.”

Sitting on a stool rather than the giant couch, the Soldier takes immediate interest in what Wilson claims. If he wants to be normal again, shouldn’t he try with the basics? Watching a movie didn’t seem all that bad.

He’s distracted by the repetitive popping in the microwave to feel the presence at the doorway. Everyone quiets, and the Soldier straightens. He marks the distance between him and the Widow, and though he’s positive she can protect herself, he debates how he would shield her with his body.

But there is no weapon pointed at them or enemy breaching the premises—it’s her.

She burrows deeper into her oversized sweater, the hood covering most of her forehead. She ducks cautiously, eyes squinted as she peeks at the overhead beams. She looks ashier in the artificial light, but no less beautiful. He’s seen her during the day before, but always when she was protected by shadows.

“Fangs!” Stark cheers, the half-drunk beer bottle in his hand sloshing violently, “We’ve already chosen the movie so don’t bitch about it like Banner always does. Popcorn’s almost finished, and we’ve got wine in the fridge. You like reds or are you like Cap here? Can’t tear a moscato from his cold, dead paws even if you were the strongest person in the world.”

The Soldier gives Stark an incredulous glare, as does the Captain. Offering her food, mentioning cold, dead hands. It gladdens him, however, that though he is the most unpredictable person in the room, he isn’t the stupidest.

“I personally like reds,” Wilson interjects, casually strolling forward to hit the light switch. She visibly relaxes. “Want me to pour you a glass? We can talk shit about Stark together as he learns how to play the movie.”

Stark mumbles something about how the cheapest technology is often the hardest to understand. Wilson leads her into the kitchen, innocently rambling about wine tours and tasting. The Soldier meets her eyes as she passes. There is simple acknowledgement, but no words. It’s as if they don’t know each other at all.

He has no claim to that anyway. He shares as much as she does.

She takes a glass of moscato, curiously. He would have assumed—and that’s just it, isn’t it? He assumed.

The others settle into their spots. She looks around, a peculiar look on her delicate face. Vampires were supposedly ageless, but he sees the age in her eyes, in how she holds up her head. He’s been told that while he wears the mask, his eyes look tortured. Like they’ve seen too much.

Her eyes held an ancient power, tainted with misery, and yet all he finds himself wondering is what color they were before she changed.

She sits on the lone recliner closest to Wilson, tucking her knees in and leaning her upper body on a pillow. She balances her wine as she adjusts, ignoring the interested stares from the others.

“I watched this movie when it first came out,” she shares, her voice an elegant whisper. The Captain watches her warily, as does Banner.

“So did I. You’re not special,” Stark responds, clicking the play button. The Soldier stands, but he doesn’t know what for. To defend her? To add to the harassment? To walk out of the room?

Her small chuckle surprises him. Surprises all of them. He takes one step forward, then another, until he too is a part of the group. He chooses to sit on the cushion just beside her recliner. If he had a cigarette, it wouldn’t be so different from all the other nights.

The Captain attempts to ignore him, but ultimately fails. The Soldier senses his relief, his hope.

They watch the movie in comfortable silence, interrupted only by Stark’s or Wilson’s personal additions. He doesn’t mind, though. He likes the movie enough to quell that poisonous irritation. It’s toward the end when he looks at her, when his curiosity gets the best of him.

There is a sunset on the screen.

Silver glistens across her waterline.

Then it’s gone, because nothing gold can stay.

The Soldier resonates most with a simpler quote. He longs for normalcy, no matter how much he prefers solitude. The voice screaming in his head won’t let him forget it. He repeats the quote several times before the end credits: "I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me."

He used to tell himself that pain was temporary and that being put under would limit it—he always believed that one.

He’s angry that Johnny dies and that Dally kills himself. He’s angry because the Soldier cares about the Captain more than anything and would do the same. He’s angry that he, with his contaminated past and bloodied hands, can still watch the sunset. He’s angry because since she’s dead, she cannot.

—————

“I’m guessing there’s an angle here, Cap. Why else would she make nice now?”

Sometimes Stark made him question the team’s so-called heart. He assumes the Captain had to plead his case, and has continued to do so when the Soldier showed no signs of improvement. She hadn’t put up a fight when they informed her of the mission, nor did she ask any questions. The barest of nods and she was given her orders. He would have liked to be in the room when they discussed this, but he received the automatic manila folder outside his room door.

Target: Male, 56, Hydra scientist maintaining one of eight remaining Hydra bases in North America. Assumed to be armed and dangerous. No history of super strength, night vision, or combat training.

And in each folder the Soldier is given his team and his task. Sometimes he’d argue with the logistics considering he knew more than he let on, but this seemed simple enough. He sneers at the use of their code names.

Soldier Objective: Joined by “Widow” and “Fangs”, retrieve the data on the main computer. Data pertaining to Hydra, Project Insight, Project Paperclip, and NASA is to be handled with care. The Soldier and Widow are cleared for hand-to-hand combat.

He should have received everyone’s objective. To function as a team, as the Captain so desperately wants, he needs to know each detail. Knowing in advance saves lives, and omitting this now is going to get someone killed.

As long as that someone isn’t the Captain or Wilson, the Soldier did not care as much as he should.

Now, while walking through the dimly lit hallway with two women watching his six, he understands why the team made this her first mission. The base was mostly abandoned, there was a limited paper trail that was easy to follow, and it wasn’t too far from New York. A night-time mission usually meant difficult entryways or an ambush. He finds he enjoys the quiet walk and flickering lights, and the small conversation the Widow and the Vampire make. He’s still vigilant and hyper-focused on finding the computer lab, but he allows his mind to knock over one wall.

The sound of women gossiping and giggling sounded a lot better than the complaints and curses of men.

“Come on, there’s got to be someone on the team you think is hot.”

The Soldier rolls his eyes at the Widow’s comment. He doesn’t bother looking back. It’s the same thing every single time: the Widow asks the question, the Vampire answers. Neither of them include him, but he doesn’t mind. Though he sits with her every night, he doesn’t actually know much about her. And the short replies the Widow also offers make him feel… appreciative. He’s learning, he’s retaining, he’s—

He shakes his head when he compares this lesson to a filing system, as if the women guarding his back are mere test subjects, or targets. As if the information he’s learning could be used against them.

It’s hard to rewire your brain, your thoughts. Once something has burrowed deep into each crevice, it’s hard to pull it out. Change is hard, rare, and celebrated once successful. The Soldier’s wiring needs to change if he is to ever learn anything new for the innocent purpose of being human.

“I think the Captain is good looking,” she answers, huffing a laugh when the Widow hums in agreement.

“He’s a tough one to crack.”

“But you’ve cracked him.”

The Widow waits for the Soldier to secure the corner before walking forward and punching in a code. He sees her narrow her eyes, a small smirk gracing her pale lips.

“I am cracking him.”

The Soldier has seen the Captain blush around the Widow, has seen him shield her before others, and has always walked beside her in support. He didn’t think it meant anything—the Captain was kind to everyone. But there is a… tenderness shared between them. Perhaps cultivated over the long months they were searching for him. She and Wilson were the only ones who believed there was a chance they'd even find him.

“He likes you. His heart pumps quicker when you’re around.”

It should bother him that she’s exposing the Captain’s feelings. But the Captain deserves an intimate form of companionship, something to take his mind off the fact that the Soldier has no problem drowning in solitude.

“You can hear our blood?”

“Only when I concentrate.”

The Soldier lifts a hand to stop them. There’s a soft rustling behind the door they are meant to enter. Drawers being opened. If it is indeed their target, then Wilson and the Captain are running around for nothing. His unit wasn’t supposed to engage in any arrests—he has half a mind to just bring the Widow along.

He splits them up. The Widow remains with him. He’ll confront the target as she works the computers. He turns to give the last order, but is softly interrupted.

“There’s a back door just around the corner. I can pick it and blend into the shadows.”

The Soldier thinks about it, then nods. “Do not engage unless I order it.”

A misty rogue. Stark is insane—she could be useful on more daunting missions.

Armed with two shortswords, one gold and one ruby, she pulls on the hood of her cloak and gives them a small smile. A smile that said she’d follow his directions and remain hidden forever, if needed.

He and the Widow work in tandem, noiselessly picking the lock and creeping into the room. With her red hair pulled up, she shimmies along the wall quickly, heading for the largest of the six monitors. The only light comes from the handheld flashlight their target uses to read loose papers. His frantic eyes search for something along the black, redacted text. The Soldier simply struts forward, his mask doing most of the intimidation, his boots announcing his arrival. Their target clutches a file close to his chest as he retreats. Off to the side, the Soldier vaguely sees the back door open and close.

“I’m unarmed,” their target squeals, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

What ridiculous lies, he thinks. Hydra did not apologize, nor did they beg for ceasefires. They trained him to ignore such pleas, such excuses. And by the way the Soldier grips him by the neck to lift him, he was trained well.

“When I let you go,” the Soldier says, his voice a deadly timbre, “give me the weapon you have at your back.”

The target struggles, his gurgling embarrassingly loud. A monitor brightens, and the Widow waves as she gets to work. The target, once recognizing her, loses most of his hope. He is dropped and the weapon clatters to the floor. The Soldier does not retrieve it—it is yanked into the shadows.

“We thought you were dead,” he says, panicked eyes never leaving the mask. No one ever wanted to look him in the eyes. No one ever wanted to hear him speak.

“I’m going to reach into your coat and grab that file. Make a move and I will break the first bone I come into contact with.”

“Mm,” the Widow hums, her downloads beeping one-by-one as they finish, “Steve frowns on that if they surrender willingly.”

“Complete the download,” he orders. He doesn’t like when the Widow rambles during these missions. The more he grows to enjoy her company, the more distracted he’s destined to get. The more he avoids interaction, the more efficient he’ll be.

And lonely—

“It’s done,” she says, rolling her eyes. She stands at his side, arms crossed. “Just sedate him already so we can get out of this rusty hellhole—”

He turns to look at her. One quick glance at the red menace. That’s all it takes.

The target draws a knife and whips it wildly, slashing the Widow across her neck. It’s unlike her to be so ill-prepared. The Soldier doesn’t know whether to press his palm across her neck or kill the target. This has never happened before. The team is going to question his capabilities, his true alliances, his reflexes, his empathy—

The target yelps in agony. The decision is made for the Soldier.

He has no choice but to bend his neck to the hunter behind him, holding him close and ripping through his carotid. The Widow curses and holds her wound, her steady voice settling the awful worry in the pit of his stomach.

Worry… For his team. He would smile if the situation wasn’t so chaotic.

The spray of blood is mostly contained. Her fangs dig so deep that blood seeping from the puncture is caught by her lips. Her lipstick stains his pale neck, paler now as she consumes him whole. Barely concealed by the shadows, she hungrily drinks without remorse. Payback. Her red eyes glow brighter than he’s ever seen them, black veins crawl and stretch from the corners, and he swears there’s smoke surrounding her strong body. Like a bad omen, a demon emerging from the depths of gloom itself.

He falls limp in her arms, his dead eyes blindly watching the Soldier as she drops him to the floor. His eyes were once blue. They’re white now.

“Are you okay?” she asks the Widow, standing somehow taller, solid.

The Widow looks at her drenched hand and nods slowly. “I’m not opposed to one of you carrying me back.” The wound is superficial, but no less alarming. He picks her up and holds her close, signaling to his newly nourished partner. She gets the hint. Hauling the dead man over a shoulder, she waits for him to lead the way.

Barton takes the Widow from his arms, his laughs overlapping her own. The Captain checks on her before marching over to him and the woman with dried blood on her neck, who then drops the target at the Captain’s feet.

“What the hell happened?” Anger. It’s an emotion so rare for the Captain. At least, it’s rare to the Soldier.

“Concealed knife. I didn’t check him thoroughly,” he answers, his explanation true enough. He should have known even Hydra scientists kept an extra weapon on their person at all times, especially small ones. He just didn’t think the Widow would get nicked so easily—that she didn’t see that coming at all.

“But why is he dead?”

She raises her reddened chin at him to boldly say, “He attacked. The downloads were complete. We weren’t even supposed to run into him. That was your job.”

It’s obvious the Captain wasn’t expecting her response. Immediately his face loosens and his shoulders do that guilty-drop the Soldier sees often. “You’re right. Your team wasn’t supposed to encounter him at all. It’s a mistake on my end.”

“Not that we didn’t have muscle to defend ourselves,” she lightly jokes, then kicks the pale body on the floor.

“We’re going to have to report this.”

“Do what you must.”

“And—” the Captain strains, looking to the Soldier for assistance. But he knows what he’s about to say, and gears up to fight it. “And because this is an on-duty death, you need to go to psych.”

“Don’t send her there,” the Soldier cuts in, his stomach dropping. “Say I killed him. Just don’t send her there.”

“That’s not how this works, Buck.”

“Psych is a glorified therapy session that fails to help even the lowest of street cops. It’s judgment, not help.”

“I can’t override it.”

The Soldier sighs, argument after argument swirling in the mess of his mind. The times he went to psych were all the same. Constructed in a way that made him feel like killing was always the wrong choice. Neglecting that now, he has the choice. Sometimes he’ll claim a stray bullet, but the majority of his kills are necessary. They are strategic. They are his own.

“It’s fine,” she says, tilting her head at her kill. “Not the first time I’ve been evaluated.”

“Psych can be bypassed if the kill was a team-effort. I’ll see if I can get Fury to sign off on it.”

She shakes her head at the Captain. “You wanted to know more about my life, yes? I’m assuming these things aren’t confidential to you or Stark… But when you do go talking about me to the others, make sure to mention that I drained him dry.”

—————

"Do you hate me for it?"

The Soldier offers an unimpressed look. He hands her the cigarette and blows out the smoke burning his throat. “Funny.”

There’s a quirk at her lip. She takes a longer drag than usual, trying to mask it.

“They all hated me for it back then.”

“Who?”

“Family. Friends. Enemies. Lovers.”

“And you cared what they thought?”

She shrugs, stealing a second drag. “At the time.”

Her lipstick is a brownish-maroon today, and he finds himself studying the tint before bringing the cigarette back to his mouth. He doesn’t share anything nowadays besides cigarettes and a living room. The Captain offers him food, money, advice—the Soldier takes but never gives.

Her face contorts slightly, her jaw ticking. Such extravagant movements for the simple outcome of showing her four canines. The points extend maybe half a centimeter longer than the rest of her teeth. Because of her minimal overbite, the teeth slide perfectly against one another. She runs her tongue over the top two.

He wonders how his victims would have reacted if they got to see the lower half of his face. There would have been no smile accompanying the kills. He had growled from frustration, to incite fear. Teeth weren’t necessarily frightening. They’re a barrier to words, the shield for tongues, the blades against intruders. Her teeth were her life-force, the blades needed to let those intruders in.

“How was your evaluation?”

A small snort. He looks at her—her ancient grace, the absence of grays at her roots, her glaring red eyes.

“They kept asking if the smell of Natasha’s blood affected me.”

“Judging by your nonchalance, I’d say you went completely feral over it.”

Another quirk at her lip. He likes the movement.

“You believe that I wouldn’t attack any one of you. Thanks.”

He does. She hasn’t attacked him up here, hasn’t attacked anyone on the team, and has never tried to escape to wreak havoc on the city. He doesn’t tell her he does, but she feels it somehow. Her shoulders loosen.

The tension slowly dissipates from his body as well—a revelation both amazing and concerning. The Soldier should never have his guard down. He should always be prepared for a fight.

“The ones they bring me are always so happy to be led to their deaths,” she says, a small frown quickly forming then disappearing. “Sometimes I wait until they’re asleep. Or when they’re facing the other way. Sometimes I drain them when they’re inside of me.”

He blinks. “You have sex with them?”

“I never leave the Tower. I can’t leave. I’ve been living alone for so long that I don’t even think I can go into the real world and bring someone home. Would you know how?”

He doesn’t need to think about such a ridiculous possibility. He can’t even find it within himself to give Wilson a matching pat-on-the-back. “No.”

She gives a small nod. Absent of pity, filled with strange empathy. “I tell them they’re going to die. I ask them how they would like to go. They choose that most of the time.” She chuckles, “I only offer it to the cute ones.”

“They’re bad people, though.”

“They’re dying anyway. Might as well die feeding me.”

He doesn’t remember it, but the Soldier considers sex—or pleasure, really—to be too much of a gift. The people they capture and keep to interrogate are scum of the Earth, his tormentors. She’s rewarding his villains.

Anger floods his chest, violent and nasty. She snatches the cigarette from his rigid fingers.

He could push her off the ledge. No one will miss her. He will. She’ll probably survive the tremendous fall. She’ll continue the cycle. She can’t leave the Tower. He can’t leave the Tower.

“I don’t have to sleep with them,” she says, her voice so quiet he wouldn’t be able to hear without his advancements. “But when I do, they taste a little sweeter. I haven’t had sweets in so long… Not since my birthday. Did you know I died on my birthday? My mom bought me chocolate instead of donating those five cents to the war effort. I wasn’t a child anymore but she never forgot my birthday… So, I can make it through ten minutes of boring sex. And when it’s done, for a blessed moment, I remember the taste of sugar and my mom’s smile when I broke the bar in two so we could share.”

For the first time in a long time, the Soldier is speechless. Because he sympathizes… A once frozen emotion thawed by the mention of chocolate and a mother. He tries and fails to remember his own mother’s face. After so many years of only being able to see his eyes, he prays they matched hers. After so many years of being force-fed genetically-modified trash, he has forgotten the taste of chocolate.

His anger is replaced by a solemn peculiarity that itches along his insides. He is aware of his loss, her loss, the logic in her kills. She feeds blindly in the hopes of feeling whole again. Has he done anything to feel whole again besides bury the screams lower and lower?

“I was feral today because we were never supposed to come into contact with the target and he almost hurt you. He managed to hurt Natasha. I did what I had to do.”

And she was being punished for it.

“He tasted disgusting, by the way.”

The Soldier, honest to God, laughs. Not expecting it, her shoulders tense and she jumps a little. He shoots his flesh hand out to hold her still, gripping her thigh as she pulls her gaze back up. Instinct—he does not want her to fall after all.

“Sorry,” he says, surprising himself. Then, as he allows a tendril of Bucky Barnes to escape through the walls he had forged from steel, he jokes, “I’m still stuck on the fact that when you fuck, you think of your mother’s face.”

His ill-timed vulgarity is rewarded with a sudden cackle of her own, a vicious and underutilized sound that pulls her lips back and showcases all four sharp canines in their primal glory. Crinkles by her eyes, she sits with the aftershocks of it.

He gives her the first drag of their last cigarette.

—————

He had been exiting the Tower with Wilson when it started.

Three large booms above had them ducking for cover. Debris slammed into the concrete and damaged parked cars while burnt furniture landed in odd angles after barely missing pedestrians. Smoke clouded their aerial view—there was no way Wilson was going to be able to fly through the black cloud blind. It was up to Stark and the Colonel to fly directly from the roof.

“Cap, what the hell was that?” Wilson yelled into his phone. He directed the floor staff away from the building and into the cafe next door. The Soldier analyzed each person, their expressions, the things in their hands. The smoke blocked his view of the lower rooftops. No one tried storming the bottom floor. There were no planes or helicopters around, and the glass had shattered outwards.

The threat was internal.

“It seems one of our captives managed to plant explosives before—” The Captain stops, his voice heavy with exertion. “JARVIS doesn’t think we’ve been compromised or that there are any intruders. Just good ol’ fashion bombs.”

“We’ll get everyone down here to safety. You guys handle the top,” Wilson says, wiping a nervous hand over his head.

“Ask him which type of captive it was,” the Soldier tells him, failing to keep his rising panic leveled. Wilson’s bewilderment is marked in his brow, but he asks anyway.

“He doesn’t understand the question—”

“Was it one of the captives we sent back to the police or was it one we sent to be fed on?”

Wilson waits for the Captain to clarify, still not understanding the danger of the situation. “Fed on.”

The Soldier sprints back into the Tower and clicks the elevator button, cursing when the lights flicker out. Stark and the Colonel were busy flying people out, the Widow and the Captain were securing the floor, Banner was putting out the fire with the young ones, and the God was probably doing all three things. Though all honorable, they were also clueless. Because if the explosion had happened on her floor, there was no floor left. No walls. No tinted glass. And though there was black smoke clogging everyone’s nostrils and burning everyone’s vision, the sun was still shining.

“Come outside again and bend your knees,” someone orders from behind him. The Witch tilts her red head at him, a regal seriousness twinkling in her eyes. He does as she says. She contorts her glowing hands, and he is lifted through the thick cloud and past several dozen floors before landing on the seventy-seventh.

Flames nip at his exposed arms, but the burn is nothing compared to the strain on his lungs. He limits his deep gulps and barrels through turned furniture and glass. Screams come from further down the collapsed hall, but he hears Banner amongst them.

“Rogers!” he yells, swiping at exposed wires hanging in his way. Electricity shoots up his metal arm, momentarily paralyzing it. He holds his breath and waits for the upgraded vibranium to reboot.

“Bucky! Over here!”

“Did you find her?” he asks when he reaches the Captain, dodging Tower employees on their way to the Colonel a few feet away. The Colonel flies three down at once, his return time averaging ten seconds. At this rate, ten more trips and the entire floor should be evacuated.

“I can’t see anything past this damn smoke!” the Captain explains, coughing loudly as he brushes stray ash off the Soldier’s singed shoulder. He allows the touch, feeling gratitude rather than his usual discomfort. “She’d be knocked out by now. This smoke is killing me.”

He shakes his head. “She doesn’t have to breathe. The smoke isn’t the issue. If I was her, I would hop from shadow to shadow, but she can’t even see those. One wrong move and she could step directly into the sunlight.”

“She doesn’t have to breathe?” he asks. Fascination paints the Captain’s face before he switches again. “What do you suggest?”

“Don’t ask why I know, but I know you and I can hold our breaths for at least three minutes before we need air.”

Hydra loved their experiments. The Soldier is grateful he doesn’t have to do this underwater.

“Then I’m right behind you, Barnes.”

They stalk through the heavy smoke carefully, using the collars of their t-shirts to wipe the burn at their eyes and to inhale deeply after the first three minutes. There is no sign of their resident vampire, only debris and some of Stark’s failed experiments. The floor above had also fallen, but the steel beams were still intact. No one lived above or below her, but that didn’t mean Stark hadn’t splurged on unnecessary furniture and decorations. Each step they took was a cautious one. Only the Soldier could push and pull burning wood and fabric out of their path without risk of burns, and the shield covered their heads as glass fell through the floor above. It would take Stark approximately a week to repair this, but for now the Soldier thanks whatever entity listening that the damage wasn’t catastrophic.

He had just started to call this place a home. The only place where he was afforded solitude. Choice.

Having it burned to the ground should have sent him on a spiral, a thought that irritated him more than scared him. He doesn’t like starting over from scratch. It was hard enough to do the first time without a base. But all the thoughts occupying his head right now are about her, how this is her home too, and that she needed his help.

“Buck! Over here!”

The Captain tries lifting the large stone of concrete blocking the small sanctuary she’s hidden in, but it’s no use. The surrounding glass and heated metal are pinching and burning his palms. She does not scream for help, nor does she alert them of her location. She’s eerily quiet.

He looks around, then down at his own body. He’s wearing black, and the Captain is wearing white. They have to be quick.

“Move!” he tells him. In sync, the Soldier slides his metal arm beneath the concrete and lifts—the Captain reads his mind verbatim, stripping himself of his shirt and preparing to wrap her upper half. She screams in agony, the sound scraping along the walls of his matted skull. The Captain barrels into the small crevice, shielding her with his body.

“We’ve got you,” the Captain says gently, coughing off to the side. The Soldier can’t see her, but he trusts the Captain’s calm reaction.

“Go!” he yells, the concrete slab pulling at his shoulder. Ten more seconds and he’s going down with it.

The Captain picks her up and runs in the direction they came from, the Soldier following. He can’t see her face, but he can see her arms. What looks like silver rashes blister and boil as they hang in full view of the sunlight.

He catches up to them, adds to their shield, and dares to hold her limp hand in his.

—————

She doesn’t go to the roof the next four nights. He does not smoke without her, but he brings a pack just in case.

The Soldier sits on the ledge, scarily desperate to be spoken to, alone with his own damning thoughts.

—————

He sneaks into the Captain’s snack cupboard in the middle of the night. There are chips of all sorts and flavors, packaged noodles, and packets of sauces from various restaurants. The chocolate is in a box of its own, three or four bars already missing. It’s one of those famous brands, popular during his time and still. With a final glance down the quiet hall, he steals a bar and closes the cupboard.

The silky wrapping is familiar to both his metal and flesh hand. He has eaten this candy before. A lifetime ago. Another person ago.

He peels the wrapping and breaks off a single rectangular piece. Crisp and clean. He slides his flesh fingertips together, smoothing the chocolate into his skin. The smell is overwhelmingly intriguing, so much so that his mouth waters.

He bites the warmed chocolate, swishing it around his tongue. Vanilla, caramelized sugar—the creamy texture suits the sweetness, the aroma of cocoa soothing the tension at the base of his neck. He takes another small bite, and this time he has a vision of a woman’s face, older by maybe a year or two. The same eyes, hair color, and top lip as him.

Bucky Barnes had a sister. He had a sister. She liked chocolate. He bought her a bar with his first paycheck. He remembers something other than bloodshed and angry voices. He remembers his sister’s eyes and the fact he was a working man when it counted the most. He wipes at his wet eyes with the back of his metal hand, wincing from the scratch.

“I had the same reaction when I tried chocolate again after I woke up.”

The Soldier doesn’t move a muscle. He watches the Captain approach the counter with a good-natured smirk. He holds his hand out, waiting. The Soldier hesitates—and it hits him then that he wouldn’t be able to share the chocolate with her anyways—but he breaks a piece for the Captain. Whether it’s because his whole opinion on the Captain has changed after he protected her with his own body, or because the Soldier wants to take one cautious step forward on the path to healing, so be it. He doesn’t make a fuss about the sharing, just brings the chocolate to his mouth and enjoys the piece just as the Soldier did.

“Dernier used to rant about how French chocolate was elite,” the Captain chuckles. He lifts himself onto the counter. His sleep attire consists of gray sweatpants and those tight, white t-shirts the Widow buys him. As he rakes his eyes further, the Soldier nearly cackles from the sight of the Captain’s black and yellow socks depicting small, alien-like cartoons with goggles and overalls.

Steve Rogers used to sleep in socks all the time. The Captain does the same.

“Did we ever eat chocolate during our time on the front line?” he asks. The Soldier uses the roof of his mouth to somehow spread the flavors.

“They sent us some packaged kits but it wasn’t the same. This chocolate is made from cooked milk, not powdered. We didn’t complain, though. It was nice to taste something from home, even if it didn’t exactly match Ma’s baking. But Falsworth found some real chocolate in a bombed bakery right outside of Poznań—”

“It was Morita.”

The Captain blinks. “What?”

“Falsworth pointed out the bakery, but Morita was the only one with big enough balls to actually go in there and bring us back the sweets. He grabbed some flour and sugar bags, too.”

The Captain chews his piece slowly, his gaze never leaving the Soldier’s. Fascination, sorrow, elation—all of it fighting to overtake one face. He doesn’t like that he can’t pinpoint the exact emotion attacking the Captain, or that they don’t match the four primary ones.

“Yeah, Buck. You’re right. It was Morita.”

That screaming voice in his head quiets now, opting for a more subtle cheering. Pride, he realizes.

The Soldier shares the rest of the chocolate bar with the Captain, and then another, all while they reminisce about the Howling Commandos. It’s equal parts warped memories and clear ones. But that doesn’t matter, because what he doesn’t remember the Captain clarifies, and vice versa.

—————

A week after the attack, the Soldier is the first one to arrive on the roof, cigarette box in hand. He has gone every night, and every night he has sat alone. The absence of the undead shadow he’s come to expect is odd, almost as if his presence alone unsettled the unnatural balance of things. Death was natural, but she defied it.

This felt too normal.

The roof door opens. He hasn’t opened the new pack yet. She takes small steps to the ledge, wincing slightly as she swings her right leg over. He watches her and says nothing—the team doesn’t speak about their injuries unless they’re serious, and she doesn’t speak to anyone at all.

He’s never asked her about her relationship with the others. He only knows how she is with him. It feels unbalanced somehow. She knows more about his character now than anyone else, besides the Captain, because he doesn’t speak with anyone else. He doesn’t know what she does with the other twenty-one hours of her day. He feels he’s allowed to ask considering just how vulnerable he’s seen her. A small part of him feels like that’s taking advantage.

“You could have started without me,” she says, the low timbre of her voice still strong enough to raise the hair on his arms. Not even the upcoming seasonal chill has succeeded in that. He doesn’t get cold often. Unless he’s dreaming.

“They don’t taste the same if I do.”

It’s bold, what he says. She’ll think he means a cigarette is best shared with a friend and conversation. He won’t tell her the two reasons he smokes at all: It elicits a soothing, guttural response that sends him back to midnight campfires serenaded by distant stories of home, and because he’s come to enjoy the taste of red, of brown, of pink, inked at the white base.

She hums lightly and finally swings her left leg over. Again the movement seems to hurt her. He notices her skin is ashier, cracking where her laugh lines would be, and her red eyes emit a soft glow. Her lips are nearly white and her hair refuses to hold in any natural moisture. She’s drying up, and yet she takes the cigarette he offers and inhales until decayed lungs inflate.

“You look terrible.” The trapped voice within him curses at him relentlessly, probably begging to be sent to the front lines to take over this battle for him. Flirting was Bucky Barnes’ thing, not the Soldier's. Then again, the Soldier doesn’t think he’s trying to flirt. But he doesn’t want to dismiss her either.

“Yeah, that happens when I go a few days without eating.”

“They’re not bringing you food?”

“They’re repairing my floor. Their minds are elsewhere.”

“But… You look terrible.”

He shuts himself up by taking a long puff, avoiding her amused gaze. He’s not trying to be funny, but it does make him feel a little better to know she isn’t taking his careless words seriously.

“I haven’t left the guest room. The windows on your floor aren’t made for my condition.”

How could the team, how could he, be so clueless? He should have checked on her when she didn’t come the first night. Should have knocked on her door and checked if she had enough damn pillows. Banner should have visited and taken the opportunity to ask those subtle but obvious questions.

“How long can you go without?”

“Forever. I won't die from it.”

“But how long before it hurts?”

The question surprises her. She takes the cigarette from his fingers cautiously, as if the question was tied to a physical one. He’s aware that she’s physically weak, vulnerable, open to prodding—completely exposed.

She thinks for a moment before saying, her shoulders hunched and eyes glowing softly, “It hurts right now.”

He does not think before saying, as he snatches the smoke back and gets a little lost in the brown lip stain he can now taste wholly, “What would happen if you drank from me?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly. Both curiosity and outright distaste floods her once calm expression. He should be offended by that, but instead he waits. Strangely… excited for her answer.

“I’ve never had a true, willing victim before.”

“Don’t call me a victim.”

“I’ve never had a true, willing supper-plate before.”

“Better.”

She huffs a short laugh. “As hungry as I am, drinking from you would be a poor decision.”

Because of the serum, because of the bite marks, because they barely know one another—the reasons are endless, really. But the Soldier wants to help, and wanting is rare.

“Do you have to kill?”

“No.”

“Will it leave a mark?”

“A little one.”

“How much do you need?”

“As much as the typical person would donate.”

“Have you ever gotten sick from someone’s blood?”

She takes a long drag, contemplative. “Once.”

He realizes that for the first time in a long time he knows more about the science portion of things, rather than the brutal aspects, before Banner and Stark. Not even psych got these specifics. He is truly two steps ahead, and something like… greed, envelops him. A peculiar type of greed—a fanatical smugness at the fact that he of all people has taken the time to learn something the others have given up prying for.

The Soldier, for once, is being considerate. Elation pools in his empty stomach because of her hesitation—because she is considering his well-being.

He nods, his decision final. “Drink from me.”

“Quite possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

“You’re killing yourself because you won’t ask for help.”

“Asking for help,” she drawls sarcastically, frowning. She flicks the dud into the aerial abyss and reaches for their second cigarette of the night. “Have you asked for it?”

He lights the end for her. “I don’t need help.”

“You’re just as isolated as I am. According to Natasha, we’re unhealthy.”

“My seams aren’t unraveling as we speak.” Even as he says it, he knows she’ll counter it.

“That’s the difference. You can see mine. Your seams are in here,” she explains, pointing at her own temple. “I’ve accepted my death a long time ago.”

His brow draws together. “If that were true, you would stay here until the sun came up.”

Shaking her head, she blows the smoke out in two short spurts. “Mostly everything about being human is dead to me. My heart no longer beats. If I don’t mask it with perfume, you’ll start smelling rotting meat. I sleep, maybe, ten days of the year. Wine is the only human thing I can consume without vomiting. I am a dying paradox, forced to pretend. But my mind is my own, and though my heart is frozen, it’s still there. I may be dead, but I don’t want to die.”

The Soldier wakes each morning, his mind finally his own, his heart somehow intact. He has a team who tries to support him, a friend who would destroy the world for the memory of him, and a vampire companion he has never thanked for simply being there. His heart beats the same as it did in 1945, he sleeps a full night through one-hundred days of the year, and he hasn’t drank wine since moving into the Tower. He is living, and yet he has no life. He is forced to pretend to be Bucky Barnes, forced to automate the husk of a living paradox. They tried to kill the human part of him, and when they partially succeeded, he wanted to die along with it. His memory is dead, slowly reviving, and he doesn’t want to die now.

He makes an apathetic noise, unwilling to reveal just how much her vulnerability burrowed into his own. “The offer is still on the table.”

The cigarette is halved.

“It’ll hurt a little bit.”

“As long as you don’t kill me.”

She considers once more, even studying his neck as she does. The Soldier has been at the will of others before, but this is different. He chose this.

“Then get comfortable. I don’t want you falling over.”

Their feet hit the roof at the same time. It’s the first time he notices how much taller he is. The second cigarette is flicked away, the third—for now—stays in the pack. She dusts the back of her sweatpants off, cleaning her arms next. She’s nervous, he realizes. That funny smugness comes back, stronger than before.

“Take as much as you need,” he offers, his smirk widening when she rolls her eyes. She crosses her arms and inspects him head to toe, a smirk of her own to match his. It’s suddenly intimate. Her eyes glimmer and shine so bright he no longer wants to lift his head to see the natural wonders—the two brilliant rubies taking him apart piece by piece are the most unnatural wonders in the world. What does he look like to her? Is there a scarlet glow outlining his body? Can she see the way his index and thumb tap together, the only physical sign of nerves he’ll show anyone. Can she hear his steady heartbeat, trained to combat adrenaline, and through the ruse can she see how desperately Bucky Barnes is banging on the walls to escape? Not to oppose the incoming bite, but to be the one to feel a woman’s mouth on him again. The Soldier apologizes to him, promises that it isn’t anything sexual, and whispers that he’ll break him out soon. Little by little, he’ll help pull the dead man inside of him to the surface.

“Tilt your head for me,” she gently instructs. She swallows hard. He does as he’s told.

Slowly, she creeps forward. Close enough that he should feel her hot breath, but there’s nothing at all. Her cold palms rest on his cheeks, scratching against his stubble, the pads of her thumbs near the corners of his parted mouth. Boldly, she traces a hand down his angled neck—pauses—then hooks his hair behind his ear. The Soldier involuntarily shivers, but he does not reprimand himself.

“Ready,” she murmurs, excitement glimmering in the swirl of crimson. Are his gray ones just as potent?

“As I’ll ever be.”

Just as they did back at the Hydra base, the skin around her eyes deepens in color, black veins extending far down her cheeks. Her fangs, once hidden by her tempting lips, nudge his neck. Four needle points, though the two on top are the first to puncture him. He hisses softly but quickly relaxes into her strong hold, their chests pressed together. Before he can encourage her, she bites down.

It’s…

Otherworldly. Bizarre. Erotic.

She moans as she drinks, and he—matches it.

One hand delicately holds the other side of his neck, the other trailing to his waist. He can’t trust that she knows exactly what she’s doing, lost in her bloodlust, so he tries to ignore it. Tries to ignore the serum rushing to heal his wound and the once dormant, primal reaction of his blood rushing south. But she drinks plenty, greedily, and he’ll offer her more still.

She detaches herself, licking at the injury. He shuts his eyes and suppresses a groan. She takes this reaction as pain, however.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head. “Was that enough?”

“Can you handle a little more?” He nods, and she punctures him again.

He gets lightheaded the longer she drinks, but it’s worth it. Her skin is returning to its natural shade, her eyes are dimming, her lips are moistening. Even her grip feels stronger. Unlike the last time, there is no smoke circling them. She is simply feeding, visible to the elements. Visible to him.

And apparently, visible to their first ever trespassers.

“Three seconds, Fangs! One, two—”

The Soldier throws a knife backward just as she removes her bloodied teeth, landing a perfect stab in one of the crevices in Stark’s suit. The Colonel sneaks up behind her and hauls her up into the air. Stark flies behind him, holding his arms to his sides.

“I always knew you were into some kinky shit, Sergeant. But unsupervised? BDSM one-oh-one, make sure your partner can be trusted.”

“Let me go,” he warns. Then, deeper and more brutal, “Let her go.”

Stark scoffs, but lets him go anyway. “She was just eating you. I think your sympathies are leaning toward the Axis—”

“She wasn’t hurting me! I let her feed because you bastards haven’t fed her in days!”

Stark and the Colonel pause, their eyes meeting. The latter seems more surprised. “Shit, Tony. Is that true?”

“Hold on, hold on, back up. Let me think about this.”

The Colonel interjects, his brow rising. “What’s there to think about? Did you feed her or not? Did you let her starve?”

“I’m not in charge of it!” Stark makes a small hand motion to tell the Colonel to let her down. The second her feet hit the roof, she’s wiping his blood from her jaw. He wants to tell her not to. It was her claim, her right. She need not be ashamed for simply surviving. “But I can see where our wires have gotten crossed,” Stark concedes.

The Soldier leaves his neck as is. Blood slowly trickles to his collarbones and into his t-shirt. Stark follows it, the slightest twinge of curiosity flashing across his bearded face.

The Soldier steps closer to him, his gaze enough to unravel even the strongest of men. “How can you forget one of your own?”

Still, Stark persists, his self-assurance unrelenting. “If you haven’t noticed, Barnes—You two are the most reclusive, secretive, stone-faced people on this team. I avert my eyes whenever one of you even enters the room.”

“I didn’t hurt him.”

They all turn to her. He hates how small her voice sounds, how modest she makes herself. To defend herself.

“Yeah, we see that,” Stark says, rubbing his temples. “Don’t know why we bothered. If he wanted you dead, I’d suspect you’d be… deader.”

“Then leave,” the Soldier grinds out.

“Barnes—” the Colonel sighs. He extracts himself from his suit, the silver absorbing the moonlight. “We just caught her feeding from you.”

“With permission.”

Stark mumbles, “Glad to know the Winter Soldier is all about consent—”

“We need to report this. She’s never… She’s never done that before,” the Colonel decides, though his expression tells him he’s in battle with his own words. “And if it’s because we’ve made her recruitment mirror captivity, then we need to re-evaluate the ethics, Tony.”

“For now, no one is allowed on the roof.”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s fine,” she says, straightening her shoulders. “I put you in danger and they saw what they saw. If I want to be a part of the team, they need to know everything, right?”

The Colonel steps back into his suit, the closure of his mask unsettling something within the Soldier. Masks function as detachment, as a lie. He knows the man underneath, but he is forced to make peace with the myth.

“Meet us bright and early in the lab,” Stark orders her, masking himself as well. He motions for her to follow.

Before the door shuts, she looks over her shoulder. No mask in sight.

“Smells like cigarettes up here,” Stark mutters, coughing dramatically.

—————

She is restricted to the lab for the next two days and ordered to complete another round of psych. No matter how often he threatens to put a knife in Stark’s neck, he doesn’t budge. The Captain swears that no invasive procedures are taking place, that he is present for any and all questions Stark and Banner are throwing at her. He says she is cooperating, even telling them how and how often she needs to feed in order to be effective in battle. They find that the serum did not affect her at all.

But when he sees her at the end of her imprisonment, her red irises no longer hold an excited or even tame glow. They are void.

They remind him of his own.

And he is terrified.

—————

He awakens with a jolt, immediately pulling the gun from underneath his pillow and aiming at the intruder with sleepy eyes but steady hands. The shadows do little to conceal her, especially with the slight glow from her eyes and the fact that the moon shines upon her. She’s forgone her usual black clothing tonight, and instead dons pink—a cotton two-piece night set. Slight collar on the shirt, shorts for bottoms. Pockets. If he didn’t recognize her shadow like his very own, he’d wonder who exactly was standing at the edge of his bed, watching him sleep.

“Shoot me. I want to see what happens.”

He lowers the weapon, glaring at her playfully. “Funny.”

“Never been shot before. Curiosity kills me daily.”

“Can you bleed out?”

“I can bleed. But no, I can’t bleed out.”

“Is it your blood?”

“No. It’s the blood I consume. I use it for energy.”

“What are you doing in my room?”

She smirks, shrugging her shoulders as if her unannounced presence is normal. “I knew they were going to bar you from the rooftop and were going to send me my dinner around this time, so I took the opportunity.”

He draws himself further up the bed, his naked chest on display. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he pats the space beside him at the same time. He hears her snicker, the accidental innuendo making him blush. It’s a weird feeling—to be thought of in that way. To think in that way.

She hops in beside him but stays above the blanket. He raises a brow.

“I would only make your bed colder.”

It truly is like lying beside a cadaver. She produces little heat when she feeds, but this… This is her natural state. He feels it all, distinguishable from the natural chill of night and three feet of distance.

“Do you like being cold?”

“It makes summers easier.”

“You’re inside all the time.”

“In general.”

He hums and brings a pillow up to clutch against his stomach.

“What are you really doing here?”

She shrugs. “I’m public enemy number one right now. The Captain and Wanda may still like me, but I don’t talk to them. Not like how I talk to you.”

“I’m not the friend you want to talk to about your feelings, or have braid your hair.”

“Damn, and I was really looking forward to that.”

He rolls his eyes. The moonlight slices through the curtains of his bare bedroom, cutting right through them. They are separated by the light, and in a peculiar turn of events, he envies the moon for it. The one constant that brought them together, now splitting them in half.

“When do you think they’ll calm down?”

“Depends on how willing they are to listen to me.”

“Well, you’re hardly ever wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“Hardly. So, I guess what you say is good news.”

He chuckles, the barest of brushes with their shoulders igniting an ache in his stomach. He wonders if she is similarly affected. If she, too, feels the odd connection between them blossoming into something stranger. He is used to feeling nothing at all—conditioned—and yet, skin-to-skin is like learning a whole new language. Fluent in many, the Soldier believes this language of silence is exclusively their own.

“I’m sorry Stark and Banner kept you in the lab for so long.”

“They let me wander.”

His lip quirks. “Did you give them what they wanted?”

“Do you mean, did I break?”

“Were they trying to break you?”

She opens her mouth to say something, something witty he assumes, but she chooses not to. Instead, she shakes her head and bares honest eyes. “No. But I told them what they needed to know. Over time, they’ll start feeling like teammates. And I, a part of the team. They need to know about my condition, and when I’m ready, they’ll know me.”

He realizes why her impassiveness used to irk him so—she is him, he is her. They are carbon-copies. He is speaking to himself, and he sees and feels what the Captain does. Sadness. Emitting from her, growing within him.

“Do you enjoy being excluded?”

“Do I enjoy being alone?”

“Same thing.”

She rearranges her legs, crossing the right one over the left. “It’s not the same thing. Being alone is for peace of mind. Exclusion is… forced.”

“Isolation, then. Like what Stark said. Basking in our reclusiveness.”

“I’ve been alone a long time. I find comfort in it, but I don’t like being lonely.”

“I’m not following.”

She smiles, turning to look at him. He meets her eyes—there’s a shimmer of gold in them. “I came here tonight because I don’t like being alone at this hour anymore. I like our silence. Our proximity. I’m not lonely when I’m with you, but we can be alone together.”

“Ah,” he sighs. Nervously, he holds her stare and says, “I like our time together, too.”

It’s refreshing, being open. Usually he delivers truths bluntly, honesty with a punch, and information without remorse. With her, it’s easier to be the Soldier. It’s easier to try and reach deep into the pit of what’s left of his soul, and pull out Bucky Barnes.

“Natasha’s nice. We can invite her to smoke with us.”

“No.”

She laughs. “Noted.”

“What about Wilson?”

“He wouldn’t smoke, but he’d be fun in conversation.”

“You speak to him often?”

She hums, considering. “He always speaks to me if I’m in the room. The Captain, too.”

He likes that—people he considers friends treating her kindly.

“What do you talk about?”

“The weather, mostly.”

He snorts, the sound completely unflattering. She doesn’t seem to mind. “Idiots. Do they describe the sun to you, too?”

She laughs again, the original melody caressing his skin. “I don’t blame them. I’m pretty closed off during the day.”

“You should come train with me sometime. The windows can be covered.”

“I forget you’re the expert with knives around here.”

“Knives, yes. Daggers, no.”

She moves to sit criss-crossed, facing him. “It’s not all that different. Plus, what I use are more like shortswords anyway.”

“How old are you again?”

She grins, fangs and all. Beckoning him, his blood. He sits up higher.

“Never ask a lady her age.”

“I see times haven’t changed.”

“What else do you remember from those times?”

A little, he wants to say. Barely anything at all, he wants to scream.

“I remember ladies wore more than this to bed,” he teases, pinching a loose thread at her shorts.

She raises a brow. “What nuns were you dating?”

“Don’t tell me I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

“Sometimes,” she breathes, the air she expels completely artificial, “they wore nothing at all.”

“Liar.”

She bounces as she gets off his bed. Her smile remains, and he finds that he’s been sporting one of his own the entire time.

“Liar. One of my top five pet names.”

He watches her walk away, and before he can stop himself—

“What do you like being called? By your first name? A nickname?”

“I quite like being called Fangs.”

Damn Stark to all the Hells. He gives a playful scoff, “Your first name will do.”

“Call me Fangs.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Get out of my room.”

She rolls her eyes, and checks the hallway before squeezing through the slight gap of the door. “Goodnight, Barnes.”

“Call me James.”

“Your last name will do.”

—————

The Soldier grips the handles of his chair and limits his air consumption to a whopping ten breaths a minute. Any more oxygen and his adrenaline will spike. He does not want to cause a scene, no, not when the Colonel and Banner are doing that for him.

“I think we all need to calm down and look at this situation from all sides,” the Captain reasons, the strong timbre of his voice carrying over Stark’s.

“Cap, your bleeding heart is showing.”

The Colonel sighs, “See reason, Tony. She was starving because of our carelessness. And because we never initiate conversation with her, we didn’t ask!”

“Nuh-uh, don’t group me in that shit. I talk to her whenever I see her. I was with my sister all week so I’m excluded from your witch-hunt,” Wilson declares, leaning back in his chair, his expression one of extreme disappointment.

“Buck, we believe her when she says she wasn’t hurting you. But what in the world made you think that it was safe for her to feed from you—not even considering the serum—at all?”

“There you go, treating him like a kid again,” Stark grumbles with a heavy roll of his eyes. The Soldier turns his head slowly, his glare half-hidden behind his hair but deadly enough to make Stark clear his throat.

“Oh, shut it, Tony. Which is it then? He let her because he’s such a kid, or he shouldn’t have let her because he’s such a kid?” the Colonel argues.

The Widow leans her head back and brings her feet up to rest on the table. “And there you guys go again, acting like he’s not in the room.”

Banner interjects, massaging his hands together as he stutters, “Drinking his blood could have made her even more super than she is. We had no way of knowing for sure because she had rejected every test before this week.”

“And did you find anything different with her blood?” Wilson asks.

“Ah! That’s one thing we discovered. She doesn’t have any,” Stark shares, clapping his hands together.

“Considering the lack thereof, there was no blood to intermingle with his, so to say. She can’t absorb it permanently,” Banner explains further.

“Something we should have known when she first joined the team!”

“Tony, are you afraid that she’s going to be addicted to his blood now? Or any of ours?” the Widow asks, raising a trimmed brow. She looks around the table, her gaze softening slightly as it lands on the Captain. Still, she moans, “God, you guys are stupid.”

Stark makes a rattling scene as he pulls a chair out and sits down. He intertwines his fingers, mimicking a student. “Elaborate, then.”

The Widow stares at him for longer than the Soldier ever has. Her silence is as deadly as his, but more cutthroat. Where Stark would pinch until the Soldier either swung or bolted, he submits for the Widow. Be it that he’s known her longer and has more respect, he doesn’t know.

“Did any of you read my report about the mission a few weeks ago? Or did you just send your own to Fury and call it a day?” No one answers her. “Of course. If you did read mine, you would have read where I elaborated on the capability of her self-control. I bled first. It was my blood out in the air. The target hadn’t seen her. Barnes would have dealt with him first and given me the second look. She had the opportunity to go toward my open neck and have a feast. But instead, she tore into the man who hurt me.”

The Soldier can’t help the smirk that forms when it clicks. “You let him cut you on purpose.”

“Glad to know my work is being appreciated.”

Stark leans forward, actual shock painting his face. “You jump started the experiments? That was your idea?”

“Well, you and Banner were getting nowhere.”

He turns to the rest of the table, his smirk replaced by a frown. “She wasn’t going to hurt me because I trust her. And she trusts me. We’ve met every night for the past few months to share cigarettes and conversation up on that roof. Not once before did she even look at my neck.”

“Makes sense for those two to be close,” Banner mumbles, somewhat apologetic. “Remember when you wouldn’t let me or Tony operate on your arm after T’Challa gifted you it?”

“Look, if she’s angry at us then we will all apologize and try to understand where she’s coming from—”

He abruptly stands, cutting Stark off. He marks the Colonel and the Widow reaching for the guns at their hip. Stark looks offended for a second—

He’s had weeks to learn how to show… empathy. Weeks to learn how to look at someone and have his eyes speak for him. Stark closes his mouth, his brow relaxing, his gaze intense. Decent. Human.

“It’s not some competition between her and I. She’s not trying to be angry, or angrier than me. She’s sad. She didn’t let you into her world because you never asked! Never got to know her. You’re terrified of her not because she looks like she can kill you, but because she looks three seconds away from killing herself. You see nothing in her face—the same nothing like in mine. It’s a hazy type of nothing, and soon you will realize you shouldn’t have been afraid of her, you should have been trying to help her.”

“Buck…” the Captain breathes, restless.

“I’m not about to kill myself, Rogers. Don’t worry. But everything would be a lot easier if you all just… asked what you wanted to ask. The more you tip-toe around what you think is happening, the longer you build up this scenario that ends in flames. I like my silence, and sometimes I like when it’s interrupted. If you listen to my advice, you’ll know when to bother me and when to leave me the fuck alone.”

The Widow snickers, but there’s pride in her look. Praise he never asked for, and never will. Though, he’s glad his argument is supported. He’s glad the red-haired menace of a woman was creative enough to seek answers herself. The only one with a spine, it seems.

“I trust her,” he repeats. He really needs them to know that. “You’ve asked questions about her condition and you got your answers. Now, ask about her next time.”

—————

They get the call late into the night. Rousing them from sleep, the Captain tells the team to suit up and board the quinjet in under fifteen minutes. The flight to Moscow will be a long one, and the chilly descent won’t make anyone happier. They are expected to land when the moon hangs high again.

The Widow cannot return to Russia. The Soldier can’t either, but he’s better at evading. He knows how to navigate the icy forests. Wilson, Stark, and the Colonel are grounded for risk of being shot down. The only ones cleared for this mission are himself, the Captain, Barton, Maximoff, and their vampire companion.

They split into two teams. The Captain and Maximoff head east. Barton accompanies him, and though he does not explicitly say it, he is watching just how close the Soldier walks near the woman who drank his blood three nights ago.

The mission is to infiltrate and leave no hostages. Killing on a team-effort. They succeed. On record, the Avengers weren’t in Russia at all.

The Captain calls an all-clear and the Soldier corroborates. Sunrise is nearing. They need to return to the quinjet immediately.

He doesn’t hear the high-tech drones flying at ground-level. But he does hear the rustling behind the trees, the regular breathing from trained lungs. He orders Barton back but it’s too late. He steps on an explosive and is sent into the air. Stark’s expertise extends to their suits as well so it’s a miracle Barton doesn’t lose a limb, but their position is known. He calls for assistance over the comms. Smoke billows at his side, then disappears altogether. As he deals with the men sprouting from hiding, she deals with the ones still crouching. Blood sprays and his legs tire fast without Barton there to help. He doesn’t even know where he landed.

He tries calling for the Captain again with no luck. It’s an ambush with their best combat agents, and they are sorely outnumbered. If it was just guns and knives, even arrows, he could beat them all. The weapons they have are electricity-based, some fire. He’s battling his own men while also checking at the corner of his eye that sparks and heat aren’t one of her weaknesses. Because if she’s downed, he can’t go for Barton. She is a priority.

If no one helps her, she’ll burn.

“Go find Rogers!” he screams to her as he smashes his metal fist into the stomach of a man much larger than him.

“I’ll go for Clint! He couldn’t have landed far—”

He’s struck by a bullet before she finishes her sentence. Her terrified gasp is perhaps the saddest part about this whole ordeal. She doesn't need to breathe, she doesn't need to gasp. He lands on his back, his stomach branded by lead, directly in this morning’s first ray of light.

“James!”

The Captain confirms Barton’s safety, then his panicked questioning bombards the comms as he is informed of the Soldier’s condition. Her voice sounds different over the earpiece. Somehow lighter. Frightened, but lighter. Shadows attempt to cover him from afar, but they can’t reach. She’s not close enough. She digs into necks and plunges her gold shortsword into the other available meat she can find. The Soldier has been shot at many times, but shot? Once when he was Bucky Barnes, twice during his seventy year prison sentence, and once more since arriving at the Tower. Only the wound during the war had been in the stomach, and he had miraculously healed in three days then. He hadn’t thought twice about why that was.

These are the worst injuries—get shot in the middle and suddenly every part of your body hurts. He can’t think, can barely breathe. If he isn’t helped soon, the serum will battle his natural adrenaline to the point he could die from shock.

There are hands on his shoulders, then under them, lifting poorly. She screams and screams and screams. He smells burning flesh. He is dropped momentarily and sees the flash of a gold dagger, then the crimson of the enemy. Again, he is lifted, dragged. Again, she is screaming.

They take cover in every shadow she can fit in. She waits, whimpering under her breath, then does it all over again. He can’t fully open his eyes.

She does this twelve more times until they are far enough from the enemy. She shoves them into an empty cave and immediately begins removing his leathers.

He doesn’t remember much after that.

—————

The unmistakable scent of cooking rabbit hits him before the stabbing pain in his abdomen.

“You owe me,” he hears a cranky voice mutter, the voice he’s come to expect whenever the sun disappears and the moon kisses the stars. He’s on his back, his metal fist practically fused to his stomach. When he opens his eyes fully there are branches blocking his view of the night sky. There’s a campfire to his left, flames growing higher as it cooks the animal hovering over it. He moans in discomfort when he turns his neck a little more, but it’s worth it.

There she is—skinning a second rabbit and skewering it a second later, frown on her beautiful face, cloak torn from the bullets that grazed her. Without the hood, the injuries from the sun are on full display. Scattered, silver patches mark her natural tint, slowly healing but obviously causing discomfort. She pauses her cooking to scratch at herself relentlessly, cheeks and neck bearing her lashes.

“What do I owe you?” he croaks, coughing automatically. She abandons the dead animal to grab their emergency water containers. She holds the back of his head as she gently pours water on his lips first. Once moistened, he takes the container from her with his flesh hand.

“I don’t like killing animals,” she says, helping him sit up. He winces and lets her move him to the base of a wide tree.

“Sorry,” he replies absentmindedly. “You should eat, too.”

“I already did. You’re getting my leftovers.”

He eyes the fire, then the surrounding forest. “Is it safe to have one burning so high?”

She steadies the second rabbit over the wooden grill and turns the other one. She gives an unimpressed hum and remains facing away. “I dragged you for miles. I doubt they will catch up soon.”

“Miles?”

“The Captain was ambushed, too. Going to him would have put your life at risk.” A pause, then a twinge of distress. “And I wasn’t strong enough to protect you and fight anymore.”

“This had nothing to do with your strength or competence. The sun—”

“The fucking sun,” she grinds out, her usual low tone rising, “Because of the fucking sun, it made me incompetent. I am a hazard in the field when I have to cower in the shadows while my teammates are getting their asses handed to them.”

The Soldier pinches an eye closed, fixing his position slightly. “I can handle my own ass, thank you—”

“I was a nurse in the war.”

He pauses, his heart clenching. “Our war?”

Our war, he says. Like he and the Captain owned all the pain, the consequences, the deaths, the aftermath.

“I didn’t even know I had… died. I woke up in the middle of the night surrounded by the corpses of my men. I walked for miles until I found the gods-awful British army.”

He chuckles at that, even if his stomach begs him not to.

“I guess the enemy had a predator on the field. Makes sense… There were a lot of bodies to feed from. I stayed in the tents and worked well into the morning. And when my refuge was attacked, I left the tent so I could help.”

She doesn’t see the pitiful look he gives her.

“I burned so badly. And while I burned, I couldn’t reach the downed soldiers. When it was all done, instinct won… I fed for the first time that night. They all tasted like bile. When I finally found my own base again, I had a birthday card and chocolate waiting for me. I ate the entire bar even though it made me sick, even though it tasted like dirt. I was questioned about how I survived when so many died, why I kept giving my rations away, why I refused to work during the day. So because of the fucking sun, I let good men die. I could not have that happen today.”

Silence hums between them, the gentle crackle of the fire speaking for them. It occurs to him that she does not need the warmth it provides, but that she built it for him. For the sole purpose of feeding and comforting him. Something liquid figuratively drips into his stomach, swirling chaotically.

She removes the darkened rabbit from the fire and hands it to him. He thanks her with a nod of his head, and bites into its thigh. The meat is dry, but he has half a mind to thank her for removing its head so he doesn’t have to stare into dead eyes.

“Clint’s alive, by the way. Idiot landed in a gods-honest haystack a mile from the rest of the team.”

He laughs as he chews. She nods her head at his stomach.

“I’m fine,” he assures her, lifting his metal hand to showcase the dried blood. The bullet went right through him. “I’m just sore.”

A few minutes pass before he speaks again, his meal half-eaten. She’s handed him the second rabbit already.

“Thank you,” he says honestly. “I’m not used to being saved. I find it odd that so many people want to save me. It was a calculated sacrifice, and I owe you my life.”

“Calculated,” she drawls. “I didn’t think much about it. You give me too much credit.”

“Well, if you didn’t think about it, then you’re just as much of an idiot as Rogers.”

The first smile of the night graces her face, now mostly healed from the silver patches.

“It wasn’t your fault. Someone took advantage of—” he pauses, the words too familiar. “Someone took advantage of you when you were helpless. When you were left for dead. And when you tried to help, you got the short end of the stick.”

“Some dull stick.”

He steadies his breathing, then takes another bite. The ache in his stomach feels less burdensome as he eats.

“You’re a veteran.”

“Do nurses count as veterans?”

“Fuck yeah they do.” They share a laugh, a moment. It’s as intimate as can be, the most intimate they’ve ever been. Even more so than when she had her teeth in his neck.

“Thank you,” he repeats, though the sentiment means more now. “For being a friend.”

“Thank you for not dying on me. And for trusting me,” she says, her red eyes glowing faintly. “Do I surpass the Captain?”

He chuckles. “He’s my closest friend. I think you’re my best friend.”

“Whatever that means,” she mutters, her quip a balm over the entire night.

They speak for the next few hours. It’s the most he’s spoken since coming home. Where his tongue would dry out and his head would turn hazy, he finds peace and urgency instead. Peace in her voice, in his mind. Urgency to tell her everything and nothing, all at once.

The Captain finds them before sunrise, and the Soldier—for the first time since reclaiming pieces of Bucky Barnes—hugs his closest friend because he simply wants to.

—————

Three weeks later, they are allowed back onto the roof. She brings the cigarettes this time. A different brand, one he vaguely remembers Dum-Dum complaining about. Said they were lady-smokes. He considers their taste, a memory for Bucky Barnes and a new experience for the Soldier. Those truths can coexist.

He quite likes their flavor.

“If you could take a bite out of anyone on the team, who would it be?”

He chokes on the smoke, fanning it away as he tries to control his laughter. “It’s actually insane of you to ask that question—”

Her mouth splits into a wide smile, her fangs showing. “Aw, c’mon! Indulge me! Who would it be?”

“Who would you want to taste?”

“Well, I’ve already tasted you.”

His chest tightens, suggestive of a lot more than he is ready to admit. She’s transitioned to blood bags instead of the vein, and some archaic part of himself is glad for it. He doesn’t necessarily want her mouth on anyone’s neck, besides his own, ever again.

“Yeah, you have,” he says quietly, cheeks reddening. “I don’t want to say who I’m thinking.”

She takes a short drag, smiling around the cigarette. “You’ve thought about it?”

“You want to hear it or not?”

She passes him the stick, her eyes glowing momentarily. “Yes, yes. Sorry, sorry.”

He waits a moment, savoring the taste of her on their smoke. He wonders if one day they’ll upgrade to joints—if it would affect either of them at all. He clears his throat before admitting, “Thor.”

Silence. He takes another drag.

“I’ve thought about him, too.”

He doesn’t choke on his laugh this time. It’s loud, flowing down into the crowded streets and mixing with reality. For so long his silence has placated his mind and unnerved others—he’s becoming human again, resurrecting.

She matches his volume, taking the cigarette from his steady fingers. “Seriously! If I were to bring up the question of whether I need human blood or humanoid blood to sustain me to Tony and Bruce, oh! They would call him down to earth to find out immediately.”

Is it possible to bring someone who’s undead back to life, too? Were they living all along? Were they just suspended in an unmoving abyss and once something sparked, they chose to climb again? Is it ever that simple? It took him years, then months, weeks, and suddenly, days. He hasn’t broken through the skyline just yet, and neither has she, but that sliver of solace, that sliver of knowledge that it’s possible… That’s what makes him want to continue on. To hold hands with time itself.

“I have no doubt they would,” he adds, running a hand through his hair. He breathes in the crisp night air, and feels absolutely no remorse as he asks, “What did mine taste like?”

She considers, eyes crinkling. “Sweet. Like toffee, or more what I remember toffee tastes like. When people are happy, they taste like sugar to me, remember?”

“I was happy?” he says doubtingly, but his mind doesn’t believe his own uncertainty. It’s been a long time since he’s been happy, since he was his old self. Maybe the moment her teeth met his skin, he was Bucky Barnes. Maybe he was a new rendition of his old form—with one new emotion. Learning, retaining, earning this new life. “I’m happy,” he repeats because it’s true.

“I think I’m happy, too.”

God, she’s magnificent.

“You know what makes me even happier, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Thai food,” he says honestly, ignoring her playful scoff. “I’m serious. Let me take you out tomorrow night. And… when we return… you can taste it for yourself.”

She tries not to smile, but it splits gracefully. “That sounds so weird—”

“Hey, I’m trying here!”

She passes him the cigarette, only their second of the night, and scoots closer on the ledge. “Fine. You can take me out. But there better be wine or else I’ll complain the whole time—”

He grabs her hand, flesh on flesh, warm and cold. Intertwining their fingers, they both study the connection. Again, silence breezes through them. There is no longer a gap, no longer just smoke being shared.

She does not pull away, but instead leans her head down and rests it on his shoulder. He savors the weight, high on the prospect of time itself, and rests his own head over hers.

A/N: Let me know if you guys want a part 2, if not then this is a perfect one-shot for me! --Moni

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #by moni #captainsimagines #bucky barnes fanfic #reader x bucky barnes #fanfiction #vampire reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 9 months ago

Text

So Desperate- Loki x Reader x Bucky

Summary: Working in the Avengers compound makes you so horny, one night Bucky and Loki ease such pains

Word count: 2, 989

Keeping your head down and staying out of everyone’s way only seemed to work so well for you. Viewing your work as operational and professional seemed to do nothing to soothe the heat that managed to reach your body, and especially your core, all day long.

You’d moved into the compound about two months ago. Being a skilled S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you managed to work your way up to pretty much being the avengers assistant. You were obviously very grateful for such a position and opportunity, but now living and working with these gorgeous people, you were going insane.

Most of the time you could avoid them by staying in your office, but you still came into contact with most of them through out the day. The avengers and friends weren’t just gorgeous, they were divinely sweet too. If they were hot and rude then maybe it wouldn’t affect you so badly, but they all spoke such kind words to you, helped out whenever they could and every friendly touch they gave you set your skin aflame.

With so many gorgeous people around and no one but yourself to ease the heat, you’d pretty much been taking care of it yourself every night, except tonight oddly enough. Today had been very busy and very hectic, that you’d barely had time to eat, so when it came to finally laying in bed, you only just registered your stomach growling.

Standing in one of the shared kitchen/lounge spaces in the compound, your mind seemed to completely zone out as you stared out of the large window, eating your much needed sandwich. Being an agent who lived in the avengers compound, you should have noticed Loki sneaking up, but then again he is a trickster God and you were very tired.

“Hello, Darling.” His smooth and gentle voice broke you from your zoned out stare.

Your sudden jump and the way your head whipped to him, caused a smooth chuckle to escape him and a cheeky grin to appear on his gorgeous face.

“I did not mean to startle you, dear. You’re a bit jumpy tonight aren’t you? But then again, you always do seem on edge around everyone here.” His smirk widened as he came to stand before you.

With your behind pushing against the bench and your front caged in by Lokis hips, you were suddenly trapped. You could get out of this situation normally, but the way his eyes stare at you, has you in a trance that you can’t break.

“I-I-uhm, wh-what do you mean?” You not so smoothly managed to get out.

Your stuttering earns you another chuckle from the god before you.

“It must be so difficult for you, working so closely with people who cause you to be so excited all the time.” He explains, his voice both teasing and seductive.

His beautiful green eyes pin you to your place, even as both of his hands smooth over your hips. He continues to tease as his hands reach closer to your core and his lips brush next to your ear.

“You know Asgardians have a lot stronger senses than regular midgardians do. I can smell how aroused you are and hear how fast your heart beats around all of us.” He hotly whispers into your ear, his long and graceful fingers now past your pyjama pants and playing just with your outer lips, not giving you any friction whatsoever.

The words reach your ear and go straight to your core, as you whine out a moan and desperately try to rock into his hand, craving friction and pleasure. Your desperation however just leads Loki to laugh darkly, and hold your hip tight, stopping you from moving.

“You are just a desperate little whore aren’t you? Wanting to fuck everyone here like the little slut you are. Isn’t that right?” He growls at you, his hand once on your hip is now in your hair and his face is a breath away from yours.

“Answer me, darling, tell me how much of a little whore you are and I’ll bring you pleasure that your pathetic toys and fingers never can.” He teases you as his deft fingers now find your clit and slowly rubbing over it, not nearly enough pressure to soothe you, but definitely enough to tease you.

“I’m waiting.” He continues to push as his fingers slow down.

“Yes! Yes! I’m a whore and I’m so desperate! I need you to touch me, Loki. Please make me cum, I need you so badly!” You whine out, your forehead now resting on his.

“That’s a good little whore.”

Suddenly your pyjama pants are pulled all the way down and he has you lifted onto the counter, your legs spread and his fingers now deep inside you. Uncontrollable moans leave your parted lips as he perfectly works your body, drawing pleasure from you like you’d never felt before. With his fingers inside you hitting the perfect spots and his other fingers working your clit perfectly, you can feel your climax approaching already. Your heads swimming in so much pleasure and your eyes closed, that you didn’t realise a second person had walked into the room.

“Oh fuck.” You suddenly hear from the doorway.

Turning your head to the side you see a smiling Bucky, arms crossed and leaning against the wall as his eyes rake over your body.

Your stunned reaction causes both Loki and Bucky to let out a teasing chuckle.

Your eyes follow Bucky as he lazily walks over to you both. His metal fingers tease from your knee, all the way down to your inner thigh, and back.

“Are you being a good girl for Loki? He making you feel good, doll?” He asks you sweetly, beautiful blue eyes staring into yours.

“Yes! It feels so good!” You cry back to him.

“Yeh? You be a good girl and cum for us and then we’ll fuck you just how you deserve, just how you’ve been needing.” He encourages, metal fingers now tweaking your sensitive nipple over your t-shirt. “Come on, baby, cum for us.”

At such a command you can’t help fall over the edge. Your body shakes violently as your head is thrown back with an animalistic screaming moan leaving your body.

“Oh fuck.” You shakily whisper out as Loki soothes you through your aftershock.

“Good little whore.” Loki coos at you as his fingers, wet with your cum, make there way to your lips.

Understanding what he’s asking even without words, you open your mouth and lazily suck on his fingers. Both blue and green eyes watching you, fascinated by the view before them.

“You’re such a good girl.” Bucky praises as one hand reaches behind your head and the other lays on your hip. Stepping between your spread legs, he leans in and kisses you passionately.

The kiss becomes more heated as he picks you up from the bench with one hand, and the world around you begins to fly. When he finally lets you down again, you find your in your room and Loki is now pressed behind you.

“Take off your top and lay on the bed like a good whore. You better not touch yourself, you pathetic little thing.” Loki growls in your ear and slaps your ass as you jolt towards your bed.

Once you’re comfortably laying on your bed, Lokis eyes fall from you to Bucky. Grabbing at his hair, Loki forces Bucky into a heated kiss, which Bucky is all too happy to reciprocate. The show before you makes you desperate to touch yourself, but you obey Loki and simply watch.

The kiss becomes more and more heated and hungry as they tear at each others clothes and bodies. Once they’re both finally naked, they turn their heads to you.

“Maybe we should give her what she wants.” Loki taunts, his hand now coming down to Buckys impressively hard cock, fingers lightly wrapping around him.

“She’s such a good girl.” Bucky grunts out, looking all over your body, as his hips grind into Lokis hand.

“She’s a little whore.” Loki chuckles, eyes also roaming over your form.

Having two such gorgeous men looking over your body begins to make you anxious. Slowly your hands reach up to cover your body.

“No, no, no, no.” Loki jumps towards you, his quick words being a surprisingly sweet tone.

“Do not deny us the pleasure of looking at such a beautiful body.” He soothes you.

While his words are gentle and sweet, his actions are the complete opposite. His strong hands take your wrists in his grasp, pushing them to either side of your head. Your eyes leave his gorgeous face as they scan over to Bucky, who now lays beside the two of you.

“He’s right, doll. It’d be a tragedy to cover a body so gorgeous.” Bucky smoothly compliments, his hand creeping under Lokis arm to gently tease your nipple once again.

Your eyes follow his fingers as they gently run down your stomach and landing between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to make gentle circles.

“You’ve been such a good girl and working so hard here. You’ve been so wound up that you’ve had to touch yourself every night. Let us take care of you, sweet girl. Reward you for all your hard work.” Bucky gently encourages, his fingers beginning to pick up pace.

“Let us have you and you shall never be denied pleasure ever again.” Loki whispers in your ear, gently nipping at your neck.

“Yes! Please, please fuck me. Look after me, make me feel good. Please, James. Please, Loki.” You beg them, looking desperately between the two.

“Good girl.” Bucky praises simply, giving you a sweet but passionate kiss.

When the kiss is broken, Loki stands from his position between your legs, and is replaced by Bucky. His once gentle actions are replaced by more rough ones, as he takes your ankles in his hands and slides you down the bed. Getting to work, Bucky manages to quickly manoeuvre you so you’re on all fours, facing Loki who is currently pumping his large length in front of your face.

“You think you can handles us both, whore?” Loki questions you as a hand in your hair pulls your head back.

“Yes, please, sir.” You breathe out to him, your head leaning more into his grip.

“Good girl.” Bucky leans over your back and whispers in your ear, his hands now firmly on your hips.

“Open wide.” Loki demands as he positions his cock with your mouth. At the same time, Bucky is positioning his with your wet core.

As you open your mouth, both men push inside you at the same time. A muffled moan leaves your stuffed mouth as they both fill you up perfectly.

Words of praise and degradation, mixed with grunts and moans fill the room as both men thrust into powerfully. Bucky has a tight grip on both of your hips, pushing your body to a rhythm as his hips smack into your ass. Loki has both hands gripping into your hair to keep your head still while he thrusts into you, using you like a dirty whore.

You’re mind begins to go fuzzy as your body tingles and heats. This is exactly what you’d been needing and what your body had so desperately been craving. Being fucked by a god and a super soldier, it was no wonder you were so close to your second orgasm of the night.

“You’re close aren’t you, you little whore?” Loki taunts you.

Pulling out of your mouth, you gasp for air as he tugs your head back by your hair. He smirks down at you with a look of wonder in his eyes, his fingers gently moving around the spit and cum that has formed on your face. With Buckys fast and hard thrusts and Lokis gentle movements on your face and wicked smile, you were going insane.

Suddenly Lokis hand leaves your hair and face, but before you can fall to the bed, Buckys metal hand wraps around your throat, keeping you up. His flesh hand tightens it’s grip as he uses his metal fingers to push your head towards him.

“You’re close aren’t you, sweet girl?” Bucky coos at you.

All you can do is pathetically moan and nod your head, trying to keep your eyes open and on the soldier behind you.

“Let James finish inside you first.” Loki demands as he comes to kneel in front of you on the bed, now sandwiched between your two lovers.

Loki begins to squeeze and fondle with your breasts as Buckys thrusts pick up.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m so close. Gonna take my cum like the good girl that you are!” Bucky shouts as his thrusts become even faster and more powerful; Loki now fisting his own cock to the same rhythm.

“Please, Bucky! Give your cum! Fill me up please!”

Grabbing onto both of your hips, Loki keeps your body up as Bucky hold onto you tightly, finishing inside you with a few more hard thrusts and his head thrown back with a loud groaning moan.

Loki begins to kiss over your face as he holds you gently to keep you up, Bucky pulling out of you and laying down on the bed.

“You did so well, darling.” Loki surprisingly praises, his hands gently caressing over your body.

“Would you like to cum, darling?” He asks gently.

“Yes, please.” You respond weakly, you body in a state of tired bliss.

“Will you let me eat James cum out of you? Let me devour both of your sweetnesses until you cum?” Loki asks, his dirty words sounding like poetry.

“Yeh. That sounds nice.” You reply in a blissed out voice.

Stroking your hair and smiling down at you, Loki lowers you to lay with your back on Buckys chest.

“Fuck this is so hot.” Bucky marvels at you both as his hands gently cup and play with your breasts.

Loki smirks up at Bucky from his position between your legs.

“Wait, you haven’t cum yet.” You worry to the god between your legs.

“It’s alright, love, that’s what James is for. You want to get on your knees and let me fuck your face James?” Loki asks.

“Only if our sweet girl here can watch.” Bucky replies, leaving open mouth kisses over your neck.

Smirking up once more, Lokis head reaches down until he’s eye level with your dripping pussy.

“Oh James, you sure did give the little whore a lot of your cum.” Loki muses happily, licking a long strip up your pussy.

“Well she is such a good girl, she deserves all of my cum.”

Bucky continues to kiss you sweetly as Loki begins devouring you. Just like with his fingers, Loki is very skilled with his tongue, managing to hit all the right spots in you and devouring every last bit of Buckys cum. As before, it doesn’t take long before Loki has your body hot and tingling, right on the cusp of release.

“I’m gonna cum! Please, Loki!” You call out, Loki looking up at you as he continues feasting on you.

“Go ahead, doll. Be a good girl and cum on Lokis face.” Bucky answers for the god, a sweet kiss landing on your cheek.

With such sweet encouragement, your fingers fly down to Lokis hair as you scream out your release. Your fingers grip tightly into his hair as you hump his face, coming down from your intense high.

Bucky hums and chuckles at you from behind as he gently gets you to release your hands from Lokis hair. Once released, Loki makes his way up your body, leaving sweet kisses all over your thighs and stomach.

“You did so well.” Loki praises, getting cupping your face and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. Both men just hold and stroke you for a moment, while your breathing comes back to normal.

When your breathing finally relaxes, Lokis sweet smile turns devilish as he turns his gaze to Bucky.

“You ready, James?” Loki asks seductively.

Leaning down, Loki shoves Bucky into a bruising kiss once again. Despite how rough they are with each other, they manage to be gentle when moving off the bed and away from your body.

Now standing at the edge of the bed, they break their kiss and Bucky immediately falls to his knees.

“You just lay there and watch, darling. After we’ll get you nice and clean and take care of you.” Loki smiles over at you, earning a content smile from you in return.

Tiredly you grab a pillow and lay your head down, waiting for your own private show to begin. Seeing that you’re comfortable, Loki roughly grabs onto Buckys hair, and as if they’d done this many times before, Buckys mouth falls wipe open for the god above him.

Without waiting or warning, Loki roughly thrusts into Bucky all the way. Wasting no time, Loki begins to roughly thrust into Bucky, fucking his face hard and fast. Despite such a brutal pace, Bucky manages to take it all and let’s Loki use him.

Bucky doesn’t feel used or violated, despite the act being done to him, he feels content and cared for. Loki and Bucky stare into each others eyes as Loki finishes inside his mouth with a deep moan. Holding inside him for a moment longer, Loki gives a few more shallow thrusts before taking his cock out of Buckys mouth, a string of spit following.

“Thank you, darling.” Loki gently says to the man kneeling before him, softly kissing his swollen lips.

Just as Loki kisses Bucky so sweetly, you feel your eyes begin to droop and close.

“I think it’s time we all go to sleep.” You hear Loki chuckle as you feel one of them begin to lift you.

#Loki x reader x bucky #Loki x bucky #Loki x reader #Bucky x reader #winterfrost #loki imagine #Bucky imagine #MCU #MCU imagine #marvel #marvel imagine

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loomiskemp · 1 year ago

Text

Retired Avengers Bucky and Steve embrace a quieter life, running their own bookstore. When a sorrowful woman seeking solace from an abusive past enters their shop on a rainy fall day, their mystical cat, Alpine, takes an unexpected interest in her. Bucky, with his ability to read auras, senses her hidden pain. Determined to bring her joy, he persuades Steve to join him in uplifting her spirits, leading to the blossoming of a healing connection that transcends the pages of their own love story.

Rated Mature: sexual themes: double penetration (anal/vaginal) dirty talk/lactation kink) fingering, oral, tit fucking. Mentions of abusive ex/stalker

Rain falls from above. The heavy drops hit roughly against your yellow raincoat, the cold starts to seep in, the concrete wet underneath your black boots. You seek shelter but you can barely see what’s around you. Your mind swirls, it feels clouded with unsaid emotions. You feel lonely, sad, happy, angry– You feel everything all at once. It tires you, makes you not want to leave bed for days. The only moments you have relief is when you pinch the inside of your elbow, the pain providing moments of bliss before blood starts to gush from the sensitive skin.

A year. It’s been a year since you’ve gathered the strength to leave your abusive boyfriend. His name was James. He called you names, got drunk, hit you when he felt like it. You never had a say. He didn’t take the break up well, his obsession with you growing into something evil and sinister. You could always feel his eyes. Even now when the rain hides you, you feel him. You appealed for a restraining order but the court hearing was taking longer than you expected. He was always there, when you left the house, when you were in the supermarket. James didn’t say anything. He just stared, sending an unsettling feeling to the pits of your stomach. You started to go outside less and less, and when you looked out the window you could see him.

Surprisingly enough you weren’t there this morning when you peered down your window. Maybe he didn’t want to get wet, maybe he was bored and gave up. Whatever it was you were happy, you couldn’t run outside fast enough.

The rain continues to pour, looking up you allow the cold drops to hit your face. You giggle as they slide down your neck, going all the way down to your breasts and wetting your bra. The fog clears a bit, allowing you to be drawn away from your thoughts thanks to a faint orange light. It’s warm so you decide to walk towards it, a cozy looking bookshop comes into view, the books in the display are a bit dusty, but you think that it adds to the vibe of the small shop.

When you enter you hear the sound of a small bell right above you.

~~~

It wasn’t a hard decision to make when Bucky asked Steve if he wanted to open up a bookshop. Steve didn’t have it in him to keep the battle going and it sounded like the perfect retirement. Finding the book hadn’t been hard, they knew a bunch of people who were happy to donate and soon the bookstore was open for business. Steve and Bucky found themselves spending more time here than there home. They enjoyed the ambiance, the chocolatey smell of old books, the coziness of the dim lighting of their bookstore.

They were behind the counter when they heard the bell ring. Neither of them looked up, finding that most customers enjoyed being alone during their hunt for the perfect book that called out to them. Soft, wet steps echoed.

With a soft sigh, Steve pushes up his thick framed glasses up the bridge of his nose and hugs Bucky tighter. Sitting behind the counter, Bucky shifts further up Steve’s lap,

his pencil sketching thoughtfully onto the paper. Steve’s lips find the curve of Bucky’s cheek, his mouth moving gently as he watches what his partner was drawing. Right now it seems to be a drawing of the bookshelves that stands across from them.

“You’re running out of inspiration,” Steve mutters into Bucky’s skin. “Book are my inspiration,”

“I’m hurt,”

Steve smiles lazily, Bucky scoffs at his faux offense.

“And what would you prefer my inspiration to be?”

“Me, obviously,”

“You are my inspiration but I can’t exactly have you in the nude in the middle of out bookstore,”

“What do I always have to be in the nude for you to find inspiration?” Steve adds. “Don’t you think I look cute in my sweater?”

“You do. But what can I say, I enjoy studying your naked form,”

The two giggle, Steve nuzzling Bucky’s cheek as the other adds shading to one of the books. Bucky realizes quickly that their laughter attracts the curious look of their customer, you smile and look back to the book you’re holding. Bucky recognizes the book; Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney. He decides to leave you alone and continues to focus on his sketch despite Steve's distracting words. This goes on for about five minutes, their white cat Alpine jumps on top of the counter, pulling them both away from their conversation.

She meows and jumps down, walking towards the customer. Their eyes follow Alpine, her tail curling playfully as she follows you further into the bookstore. The two exchange brief glances, both of them confused about their pet’s behavior. Bucky stands up and decides to go after the feline.

Bucky walks between the narrow bookcases, he sees you sitting with Alpine purring on your lap. You have a book open in front of you, open to your watchful gaze. Just as he’s about to walk closer he stops. You’re still unaware of his presence and he takes this opportunity to study you. Despite your smiling face, he sees your aura, broken and fearful. Bucky isn’t a fan of this ability of his, it feels invasive. Frowning, he walks up to you, pointing to Alpine.

“If she’s bothering you I can take her?”

For a moment you look up to him confused, then you look down to Alpine and smile, effectionaly petting the white cat’s head.

“No, not all. She seems to enjoy the picture of the animals on the pages,”

Raising an eyebrow, Bucky looks down to see what she’s reading. A soft, reminiscing, chuckle falls from his lips when he sees that it’s Winnie the Pooh.

“My mom used to read that to me and my sister all the time,” he explains. “It’s one of my favorites,”

“Yeah? I’m enjoying it so far. It's the perfect children’s book isn’t it? It’s a bit foolish but reading stuff like this always leaves me feeling happy,”

“That’s not silly at all,” he answers, his smile soft as he thoughtfully observes her aura. “I re-read it whenever I can. It makes me happy too,”

“Glad that I’m not alone,”

Alpine purrs and stretches across your lap, you giggle, your fingers finding that special spot right below her chin.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it, sorry for bothering you,”

“Please, you didn’t bother me at all,”

He nods and heads back to where Steve is. Steve lifts a brow at him, his eyes silently asking what happened. Bucky isn’t sure how to answer him, he’s felt something, and

After leaving you he felt emotional. Steve reaches out and holds his hand, gently squeezing. When he looks back at his partner, Bucky sees that Steve might already know what’s on his mind, even before he does.

“She’s soaked from the rain,” Bucky says.

Steve answers with a smile.

“Then let’s dry her up.”

~~~

You found it odd at first, the way the two book owners circled around you like affectionate hawks. You learned that the first man who approached you was Bucky, and the other man, with glasses with a few grays scattered in his hair, was Steve. For some reason they were acting rather affectionately towards you. Steve sat next to you and petted Alpine’s head while Bucky brought you all some tea. He also sat down soon after. Despite their older age, you noted that they were quite handsome.

Heat licks the bottom of your spine when Steve’s fingers accidentally touch your thigh while petting Alpine, the cat purrs happily.

“So anything specific you’re looking for?” Steve asks.

You name a couple of books, some of your favorite authors for reference, they briefly exchange glances, which prompts you to raise an eyebrow.

“Something wrong?”

“No no,” Bucky chuckles, playfully raising both hands in mock surrender. “We’re just surprised, not many people know of those titles and names. We have the same tastes in books as you it seems,”

“We can show you similar books to those you just listed,” Steve offers, placing his mug back on the coffee table. The sound of soothing rain fills the bookstore. “If you want to,”

“Sure that sounds delightful,” before you pick up Alpine, the white cat jumps and disappears between the bookshelves, you giggle. “I guess she wants to join us too,”

The three of you get up, following the wise cat. Bucky’s knuckles brush against yours and your breath stutters.

“Usually she’s not so fond of customers,” he says, his voice low. Steve’s presence is strong and tall, walking right in front of you two. “You must be special,”

You snort, it’s an unattractive sound so you quickly cover your mouth. “I doubt I’m anything special,” you say from beneath your hand. “In fact I think I might be bad luck,”

“We don’t believe in bad luck,” Steve chimes in, his voice melodic. The air is stifling, it’s darker around you now, the light not reaching this far back. Deep down you want to reach out and touch Steve’s back, feel the warmth of his body to find comfort in it. “But even if we did believe in it, we would never call such a pretty thing like yourself as bad luck,”

A shuddered breath escapes your lips, prompting Bucky to hold your hand. Surprised, you turn to him and he only smiles, squeezing gently.

“You don’t need to be afraid, this part is always dark but the most amazing books are hidden here like gems in a cave,”

Finally Alpine comes into view, she’s standing at the end of a dark brown bookshelf. The three of you walk towards it, Steve’s finger immediately finding what he was looking for. He shows you the book, explaining briefly what it's about and hands it to you. Then Bucky brings you his favorite book, it’s the first of a series. They keep piling book after book onto your arms, the weight gradually getting heavier and heavier. The dust makes you sneeze, and Alpine keeps on walking between Steve and Bucky’s legs. She stands at the end of your feet and meows at you, you’re not sure what the adorable feline is trying to say. You wish you could understand her.

“I think that’s all for now,” Bucky says, almost triumphantly, with his hands on his hips.

Steve looks at you amused, both his eyebrows raised, “You need help with those, sweetheart?”

“Uhh…maybe?”

Bucky mumbles an oh shit as he walks to you with long strides and scoops the pile off of your hands. You feel much lighter. The three of you walk back to the front of the shop with Alpine following. She jumps on top of the counter as Steve carefully places the books into a tote bag. Bucky stands right next to you, your shoulders brushing against one another. You feel warm and fuzzy, a smile tugs at your lips.

“What do I owe you?” you ask, pulling out your wallet.

“Don’t be silly,” Bucky clicks his tongue, pacing a hand on top of your wallet and making you lower it back down. “We’re lending you these. We want you to read them,”

“Well, if the young lady wants to pay…”

Bucky warns, “Steve…”

“Maybe perhaps she can let us take her out for dinner,”

You blink hazily at that, slightly dazed, slightly confused. Bucky smiles from ear to ear, nodding eagerly.

“A date?” you ask, mouth feeling like it belongs to a stranger. “With both of you?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers, his blue eyes moving across your body. “Unless that’s a problem?”

“Nope not at all,” you grin, taking the tote bag. The rain had stopped. “How about at seven?”

“It’s a date,” Bucky says, waving you off.

You feel happy for the first time in months, sadly, when you arrive home you feel the familiar hateful silhouette of James. Fear replacing the positive emotion, you quickly move inside your apartment and hug the books that had been given to you.

Tears wet your cheeks.

~~~

You still don’t know how you ended up with two dazzling men in your bedroom. Well, you did know how but it still was surprising. Your bedroom, you still can’t believe it. The connection between the three of you had been instant, and after both of them taking you out for dinner, well, you couldn’t help but invite them to your place. Deep down you hoped that if James was out there, stalking you as always, he sees you with both of them. You want him to know that you’ve moved on, and in the best way possible.

The two were quick to strip you and lay you upon the bed. Bucky took his place between your quivering thighs, burying his tongue deep in your cunt while Steve occupied himself by kissing you silly. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, teeth gently nibbling on your flesh as he licked the inside of your mouth. Everything was happening so fast. Pleasure rushing up and down your body. Bucky groans as he tastes you, the curve of his nose moving along your clit, making you slicker than you can ever remember. Steve moves away from your lips momentarily, his cock in his fist as he looks down to Bucky. You can briefly see the fire in his eyes.

“Make her nice and wet for us,” he groans, capturing the bead of leaking precum with the swipe of his fingers. “She is going to need it all if she is going to take us both, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Bucky hums as a response, fingers suddenly making their way through your folds and sliding inside of you. Steve chuckles when your lips part with a gasp, his gaze falls back to you, thumb pulling down your bottom lip as his smile shifts into something darker. Your pulse quickens at the look. He comes closer to you, stroking himself languidly, he lays the tip of his cock between your lips.

“Care for a taste?”

Your tongue swipes at the slit, his salty taste coating your tongue, your eyes flutter closed, back arching and pushing more of yourself into Bucky’s sinful mouth. You nod, a moan rattling your throat.

“Good girl,” he rasps, pushing his cock between your wet lips. “You need to get me wet too if you are going to take it all,”

Fuck. The thought of them both filling you up made you gush around Bucky’s fingers. He chuckles, scissoring his fingers, he draws your aching clit into his mouth and sucks hard. The feeling is like electricity, surging through you and making you immobile. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub and before you can relish more into the feeling, his tongue leaves you, forcing a whine out of your chest. Steve’s fingers squeeze your chin, the sting of it urging you to look up at him.

“Don’t forget about me,”

Your eyes go wide as he pushes the rest of himself into your throat. The head touches the back of your throat, you want to gag, your nostrils flare and your throat tightens around him. Steve’s head falls back, the veins curling around his neck popping. His jaw tense and in that moment he looks so powerful, so strong, your head spins, pussy clenching tight around Bucky’s thick fingers.

“I think she likes the taste of you,” he mutters, head dipping lower between your legs. “And I can’t really blame her, however, she tastes even better,”

“I bet she does,” Steve murmurs, he slowly rolls his hips, balls laying heavy on your chin. But, his eyes are glued to Bucky. “Give me a taste,”

Your eyes roll back, goosebumps bursting across your skin. The amount of filth these two men possess will be the death of you. Bucky grins into your skin, teeth grazing against your inner thigh, you clench around him, a shudder clawing up your spine.

“She liked that too,” he drawls. Bucky curls his fingers on more time before pulling out and offering your taste to Steve, who in return licks eagerly around the other man’s fingers. He closes his eyes, moaning at the taste, then his eyes flicker down to you. “Delicious.”

You want to say ‘oh god’ but end up moaning around his cock instead. Bucky grins, gripping the other’s chin, he yanks his head towards him and captures his lips in a heated kiss. Steve’s eyes flutters closed, licking into Bucky’s mouth, he chases the taste of you. His cock throbs on your tongue, precum leaking from the tip. You swallow eagerly, in return he parts from Bucky with a groan, mouthing the underside of the other man’s chin as he pushes him back between your quivering thighs.

“Don’t stop,” he commands Bucky, but his eyes are locked on you. “I want to fuck her as soon as possible,”

Before Bucky goes back down, a brief worry clouds over his face, his gaze meets yours. “You have lube, sweet thing?”

Steve stops and you look up at him confused, blinking heavily as your mind clears up for a brief moment. When realization hits, Steve pulls out, however, he lays his cock on top of your lips; it feels heavy, wet and warm.

“I do,” you speak, voice hoarse as your lips graze against his cock. “It’s in my drawer,”

You think you raise your hand to point, but instead your arm still lays on the bed, only your finger gesturing towards the forgotten bag. Bucky follows, and after a second, he’s right back between your legs, mouth ghosting over your core and tongue swirling around your other hole.

You yelp at the feeling, involuntarily pulling away. Bucky’s strong arms snakes around your thighs, nails digging into your flesh, his tongue moves back to your clit and gives it a tentative lick.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, voice stern. Meanwhile Steve begins to stroke himself while observing you, the slick sounds echoing in your ears. You feel so bare before them, and it isn’t just because you’re naked. These two truly see you for who you are.

You shake your head, “No, I want to continue…just– I never–”

“It is alright, baby girl,” Steve says, hovering above you. His thumb plays with your lip. “You tell us when you want to stop and we will. Understood?”

When you are in the midst of nodding, he clicks his tongue with annoyance. “Words,”

“I understand,”

This time when Bucky licks you, you don’t flinch away. Instead you let out a wanton moan, hands cupping your own tits as he spreads your legs wider. You peer down, seeing the way he crowns between your legs. Noticing your gaze, he purses his lips and spits. Making a show of it. You let out a soft hiss, head falling back, you look up to Steve. A whine parts his own lips, his strokes becoming faster, harder as he watches Bucky. You had your suspicions that something more was going on between these two, but now you were certain of it, which in return makes you feel blessed that they are allowing you to be a part of it.

Bucky, completely unaware of you both ogling him, pushes his tongue into the tight muscle. You melt at the feeling, thumb swirling around your pebbled nipples. Soon, his fingers replace his tongue, you’re tighter down there. He groans at the way you clench around him, and while he pumps his fingers in and out of you, his mouth returns to your dripping cunt, cleaning the remains with his tongue.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps, “You look good down there, baby boy,”

Bucky moans into you, the vibrations sensing tingles up your body. With a moment of desperation, you grab Steve’s wrist, stilling his movements. He looks down at you, worried, but that emotion soon fades when he sees the lust swirling in your eyes.

“Want you,” you choke out. “Want you both, now– Please–”

You sound so desperate, so needy, but you’re too far gone to actually give a crap. Steve and Bucky exchange glances. You feel them having a wordless conversation, something only the closest of people can do.

You hate the way jealousy flares in your gut.

Steve lays down, pulling you on top of him, your chests flush against one another as Bucky gets behind you. His heavy cock rests between your cheeks, he ruts against you like an animal in heat, rubbing the precum into your already sweaty skin. Steve nibbles your chin, smiling.

“You ready for us, beautiful?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and whimper when you feel Bucky’s nails raking across your back. They’re teasing you.

“You sure you can take us both darling? We aren’t exactly…small, if you know what I mean,”

You’re on the verge of tears, your cunt throbbing painfully. Your heart sinks into your chest.

“Please– Please give me your cocks,” you beg, figuring this is what they want. “I need you both to fuck me or else I’m going to go insane,”

“Shit,” Steve gasps, cock nudging your entrance. “Such a filthy mouth for such a pretty thing,”

“She’s something, indeed,” Bucky continues, he lays a soft kiss between your shoulder blades. “Since you asked so kindly, we might as well give you what you want. Or we wouldn’t really be gentlemen now, would we?”

You want to say that nothing they’re currently doing would be considered “gentlemanly” but you swallow your pride and bury your face into the crook of Steve’s neck, inhaling his musky scent.

“Please,” you say again, whispering into his skin.

His fingers painfully digs into your hips, you imagine that he probably meant for this gesture to be soothing, but instead it screams nothing other than the need to possess you, which you’re happy for him to do.

It starts off slow. Steve slides into you easily, and it sounds like the air is being knocked out of his lungs.

“So wet for us,” he murmurs, peeling you out of his neck and pressing his lips against yours. He continues to speak between breaths. “How are you this wet already? Did his tongue feel that good, baby?”

“It did,”

Bucky growls at that, his own cock throbbing painfully as pours a generous amount of lube both on you and himself. He begins to fill you inch by inch. You can feel every curve, every vein of his cock. Parting away from Steve, you nuzzle the side of his face, sucking in a deep breath while Bucky goes in deeper and deeper.

When he has fully buried himself into you, his pelvis flushed against the curve of your ass, Steve’s eyes roll back, cock twitching deep inside your cunt. The three of you pant heavily, you feel so full, so satisfied. You can stay like this forever and have no idea how you’ll part from the two men later on.

“Can you feel me?” Bucky asks Steve, slightly pulling back his hips and pushing forward again. “She’s so tight,”

“I can,” Steve hisses, his chest trembling.

“Are you alright, little one? Does it hurt?”

“A-A bit but I’m okay,” you lick the salt off of his neck. “You guys can move now,”

For a moment you swear that you’re burning from the inside out. You have no idea how they manage it, but the way they thrust is like a tortuous dance. You’re brought to the edge on multiple occasions, and pulled away from it again and again. The two men play with each other through you, both of them a slave for another and you’re in the middle of it all, being pulled to one edge from another. Bucky’s movements are calculated, his pacing slow, yet hard. With each grind of his hips, he makes sure that both you and Steve feel his fat cock piercing through you. Meanwhile Steve is more feral, much like an animal, he fucks into you nice and hard, not really caring anything other then yours and Bucky’s pleasure. It’s freeing. You know no matter how they play with you, you’re going to be taken care of.

Bucky’s lips trail down your back, squeezing your ass while Steve pushes you up and devours your tits. He draws a stiff nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth nipping at the sensitive nip. You scream out both of their names, your eyes squeezed shut as they use you. Your world is spinning, the pleasure mind-numbing and putting pressure on your neck.

“Where do you want us to cum, baby?”

Bucky groans, cock throbbing. “I-Inside–” you say without thinking. “Please– I wanna feel you both,”

Steve’s hand sneaks in between your sweaty, writhing bodies. His fingers rub at your clit, his thrusts becoming even more uncoordinated and desperate from before.

“You first,” he chokes out. “Cum for us,”

You have no idea when you became so eager to comply with his commands, but you do. You bite into his shoulder, a bright white light flashing behind your eyelids as you gush around them. Bucky stops completely while Steve continues to rams his hips up into yours. The man behind you makes an almost painful sound.

“Steve,” this is the first time you’ve heard Bucky whimpering out his name. “I need to cum, I want to cum– she’s squeezing me so tight– Fuck, tell me,”

Before you can understand what’s happening, Steve pushes both himself and you up from the bed. He crashes his lips into Bucky’s, the other moans into his mouth, between kisses you hear Steve muttering out a “cum” but you’re not sure. Hips staggering and stuttering as he spills into you. You feel it. Your head falls back onto Bucky’s shoulder, a moan ripping from your throat as the sensation of his cum pushes you into the brink of another orgasm.

Steve’s eyes roll back at the way you squeeze him, his balls and stomach tight from holding himself back. He can feel Bucky spilling into you. The way you squeeze around him is intoxicating, you moan his name, begging him for more. He’s not one to deny his lovers.

It takes him two more thrusts– After that he’s cumming in thick ropes. Filling your pretty pussy up as you cum a second time. He hears Bucky muttering a string of curse words, his cock still buried deep in your ass. As he pulls out, cum dribbles out from the corners of his softening cock. It takes him everything not to flip you back down onto the mattress and clean you up with his tongue, but he knows by the way you look at him that you might be dancing too close to the edge. Bucky follows suit, slowly pulling out and gently slapping your ass before heading to the bathroom.

“Fuck, Steve,” you say, voice laced with sleep as you both fall back down to the mattress. “That was amazing, I–”

“Shhh,” he says, rubbing your nape. “Don’t think about anything now, Bucky’s gonna clean you up now, then we can sleep,”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed.

“And we can talk in the morning,” Steve continues, smiling up to Bucky when he sees him returning with towels. Bucky smiles back, as he gets back on the bed. “You sleep now, sweetheart,”

“Okay,” you murmur.

If this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up from it.

~~~

It’s been a month since the three of you had found each other. You’re stacking books while your gaze peers outside, it’s a foggy day with not many people outside, except for the familiar shadow of your stalker. Placing the book down, you don’t realize your fingers are in the middle of two books, when you slam it down it hurts and you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood.

“Hey, are you alright? What’s happening?”

It’s Bucky, it’s always him. He’d told you about his odd ability to read aura’s, you were becoming quite good in hiding your emotions even from him but it seemed like today wasn’t the day. Bucky reaches where you are, softly picking up your hand, he brings your fingers to his lips and kisses them.

“Sorry just got distracted,”

Steve follows, he looks outside, which makes you sweat.

“Who is it?” Bucky asks.

“No sure,” Steve mutters, sliding his glasses up, his gaze flickering to meet yours. “You’re not telling us something. I noticed it you know, how you nervously look around whenever we’re out, or when we’re at your apartment, or even here,”

Bucky protectively pulls you closer to him, his eyebrows are raised with surprise. Apparently Steve had kept that observation to himself.

“Is that true?” Bucky breathes. “Is there someone following you?”

“It’s nothing serious,” you try to ease them both, but by the way they’re looking at you, you know it would be impossible to distract them. You sigh, nostrils flaring. “It’s my ex…James. He hasn’t left me alone since we broke up,”

“Have you told the cops?” Steve steps between you and the display glass.

“I have, there’s a court hearing in place, I asked for a restraining order. It’s likely that I’ll get it but it seems to be taking longer than I initially anticipated,”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” you feel Bucky’s lips tracing the column of your neck, you press into him.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to mess this up,”

“You could never mess this up and you should better to hide such a big thing away from us,”

The next thing you feel is Steve’s lips pressing against yours; It’s rough, possessive, angry. A feeling you’ve never felt from him before. Bucky’s a rock behind you, his own hands traveling across your body, squeezing and pinching every patch of skin. Steve licks the inside of your mouth and you let out a moan. Your body burns for them. The fog is thick outside, no one to enter the cozy shop, the two men pull you towards the back, where there’s a small rug and lay you down.

When Steve’s inside you it’s a beautiful feeling. It’s warm, safe and pleasurable. He fucks himself into you with long, languid thrusts while Bucky devours the rest of your body with his mouth. You feel his tongue on your breasts, neck, mouth, even ears. He takes the opportunity to play with you as Steve takes out his frustration of not knowing the dire situation you were in. He’s angry at himself. It’s not enough that he makes you come once, he needs to feel your cunt pulsing around him again and again. Bucky helps, his fingers moving around your clit with expertise. Slick runs down your thighs and soaks the carpet. The scent of books mixes with the musk of your many orgasms.

Steve comes soon after, his seed warm deep inside you. Pulling out, he replaces his cock with tongue. He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, you feel yourself crying, throat hoarse from crying out both of their names. Bucky licks the tear streaks, and moves to push Steve away. The flames of feeling powerless still raking across his skin, Steve comes up to kiss you. His lips are tender, tasting of you and himself.

Bucky, hard and aching, doesn’t say a word as he cleans the both of you up. The three of you hold each other, it’s impossible to understand which limb belongs to who.

You’ve never felt emotion like this before. In that moment you understand that you belong to them.

And they belong to you.

~~~

“Fuck, what happened to you two?”

It’s late. It’s so late that Bucky shouldn’t even be up. Especially since he has to open up the shop first thing in the morning, but of course sleep eludes him entirely and he ends up scrolling through a magazine about greek sculpture “the archaic period”. He has no idea when he got it. He probably brought it in from the bookstore for further inspection. Supposedly you and Steve were supposed to be back hours ago, only leaving for a brief grocery shopping. Sleep slowly comes crawling back at about the fifth page of his magazine, that is until the apartment door busts open. He jumps, then relaxes when he sees that it’s only you and Steve– But panic comes rushing back with full force when he notices your heavy breathing and Steve’s blood soaked white button-up shirt, his glasses fogged up with the heat inside.

Bucky throws the magazine onto the coffee table, making a straight line to you and Steve. Before he can wrap an arm around you to help you up, he’s stopped by you raising a hand. He raises an eyebrow to that, eyes flickering to Steve who looks exhausted.

“It’s nothing serious,” Steve says, his lips slightly curling up which makes Bucky believe him. “We just ran into her ex and I had a little…chat with him,”

“Ran into her ex? Wait, you mean James?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes scrunching close while he tries to understand. “Can one of you speak clearly, what happened?”

“He was stalking me as always…” you swallow, clearly still shaken up from the experience. “I wanted to leave but Steve…He got angry,”

You voice out finally, Bucky notes the way you sound defeated. Worry coils around him, squeezing him tight and emptying his lungs of air. He ushers them both to the couch, still not touching you since it seemed like you didn’t want that. From your aura he has a mild understanding of what you’re feeling, you seem scared, worried, but also happy. Bucky disappears into the kitchen figuring that both of you needed water.

When he comes back with two fresh glasses of H2O, your head is pressed snugly on top of Steve’s shoulder. Skin glistening with a sheer coat of sweat. The way you’re still breathing heavily worries him. Your brows knit together, you almost look like you’re in pain. Steve’s staring at the coffee table, his lips moving slightly as he reads the title of the magazine, then he hears Bucky making his way towards them and his eyes flicker to meet his.

“How’s the magazine?”

“I don’t think that’s where your focus should be,” he grumbles sitting next to you. Bucky places one glass in front of Steve and presses the rim of the other to your lips. You shiver and shake your head. “Come on, you need to drink something– What happened to her?”

The question is directed at Steve.

“We got into a fight. I think she was expecting me to get hurt because I’m old and gray,” he chuckles, slightly shaking you. “But I proved her wrong, didn’t I honey?”

“Yeah,” you finally crack a smile. “I guess James won’t be following me for a while. Finally…”

Bucky can’t help but still feel worried. He’s glad that Steve thought that moron a lesson, but still, he could’ve gotten hurt. His gaze drops to Steve’s lap, who infuriatingly notices his sudden emotional withdrawal. Steve swiftly leans over and touches Bucky’s chin lightly with his knuckles, pulling his gaze up.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. You know it takes a lot more to knock me out,”

Bucky feels his cheeks heating up, a dust of pink coloring his skin. Your hand finds its way to his thigh, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry, It’s all my fault,” you whisper.

Suddenly your chest heaves, Bucky can’t help but watch the movement like a hawk. Your shirt is dirty, the hem of it ripped and tattered, but he also notices two small wet patches right above where your nipples are supposed to be. His eyebrows raise, disappearing under his curls. Steve’s thumb moves across Bucky’s jawline, drawing his attention back to him.

“Is she lactating?” Bucky asks and Steve follows his gaze, seeing the wet patches for the first time. “How’s that even possible?”

“What?” you look down your shirt, cheeks warm as you see that he was right. “I’m not pregnant, I don’t think at least, maybe it’s because of the meds I’m taking?”

Bucky blinks before answering, he’s deadpanned, mouth dry as a desert.

“Medicine can do that?”

Steve blinks, “Should we take her to the hospital?”

“No, no it’s probably fine.” you shake your head. “Let’s just rest for a bit,”

Bucky’s lips round up into an okay. His eyes flicker back to the stains, they’re bigger now. It feels like puzzle pieces coming together as he realizes what those wet spots are. He hears the blood rush in his ears, cock twitching with interest. For a brief moment he feels guilt for being turned by something so odd. You huff out an embarrassed sigh, looking at Steve before turning your gaze back to Bucky, your eyes softening immediately.

“Don’t worry I’m fine. It’s just– It kinda…hurts,” your teeth gnaw your bottom lip raw, it takes him everything not to lean and give it a soothing lick. “It’s like the week before my period. My nipples get all stiff and sore, but this is like… ten times worse,”

“Maybe we should…massage them?” Steve offers, that usually did help during your pms. “But it’s up to you, baby,”

Seeing how flustered you are, Bucky reaches out, thumbing your bottom lip away from your sharp teeth and lovingly stroking the soft muscle. Your eyelids flutter for him beautifully, a blissful sigh escaping your lips.

“W-We should,” you inhale a shaky breath, Bucky smiles. “Sucking m-might help and well, massaging,”

“Alright then,” Steve mutters. He leans into your personal space, lips tracing the column of your neck as he continues to speak. “We should do what makes you feel best,”

Bucky’s ashamed of how quickly he becomes hard. Uncomfortable, he shifts in his seat. He’s wearing sweatpants, so there isn’t much he can do to hide it. Mind racing, he covers his mouth with his hand, scratching his cheek, an unconscious thing he did just because. Steve’s eyes sparkle at his reaction, his blue eyes a shade darker when his gaze rakes across Bucky’s broad frame, seeing the bulge hiding underneath the thin layer of fabric.

“We don’t have to do it,” you say, oblivious to Bucky’s situation. “I don’t want to cause you guys any trouble,”

“You’re not causing trouble, on the contrary, we would love to help,”

Bucky closes his eyes. He feels strained by the purr of Steve’s voice, his neck clenching and unclenching as he tries to not focus on your leaking nipples. Without thinking he licks the inside of his palm, imagining it was your sweet tasting milk instead– He still can’t believe it.

He’s rudely brought back from his day dreaming when Steve cups Bucky’s aching erection, gently squeezing his cock from above his sweatpants. Bucky makes a choked out sound, hand falling as his eyes flutter open.

“Let’s help our little lady out,” Steve smiles.

“Let’s,”

“Guys, please…”

The desperation in your voice causes both men to turn to you, both of them looking at you worried. Your head falls back and you lift your shirt up with trembling hands.

Bucky’s mouth waters at the sight; your breasts are swollen, nipples erect and leaking. He knows that your breasts tend to get bigger about a week before your period but never this much. Your lips part with a groan, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. You’re looking down at your nips, something between pain and arousal written across your face.

“Just do it– Please,”

It takes only a second. A second for them to pick up their jaws from the floor and attach themselves to your aching nips. Bucky feels Steve’s cheekbones against his cheek while darting his tongue out to draw a nipple into his mouth. A moan mixed with a sigh leaves your lips. His nose is completely buried into the soft flesh, sucking with fervor. Bucky’s eyes flutter closed, a groan trembling within his chest as the sweet milk coats his tongue. The taste tingles his taste buds awake. It tastes like cantaloupe juice. His cock painfully hard in the confinements of his sweats. He feels your fingers scratching against his scalp, tugging him closer. Without even thinking he thrusts his hips, a spike of pleasure ringing up his spine with the almost to-non friction.

“Fuck–” Steve’s voice comes from right next to Bucky’s ear. He sounds very similar to when Bucky fucks into him, a slurp follows. “You taste so good?”

“Really?” you breathe out.

Bucky looks up with his lips still wrapped around your pebbled nipple, he gives it a hard suck, purposefully moaning loud around the flesh. He notices the way your back curves, pushing more of yourself into their mouths. You close your eyes, chest heaving as the two of them sucks on your tits.

“Yes, baby– Tastes amazing,” Bucky slurs. “Does it feel better?”

You nod shakily, nails scratching both his and Steve’s scalp. “More,” you choke out. “Squeeze them,”

Bucky’s eyes flicker to Steve. The other man pulls his mouth back, lips parting from you momentarily and Bucky sees your nipple glistening with spit. Steve massages your breast, beads of milk show up at the tip, leaking down the curve of the plump flesh. Bucky feels something feral awakening inside of him as Steve leans and catches the drop with the tip of his pink tongue, licking a stripe up to your nipple, he sucks again.

Eyes nearly rolling back, Bucky cups himself from over the fabric. He’s pretty sure if he looks down he’ll see a wet patch of his own. He rounds his mouth, licking your nipple back between his lips. His hand comes around the roundness of your tit and starts to massage it as well, his heart hammering in his chest as more milk squirts into his mouth.

Your whimpers and moans and pleas are driving him mad. He can’t help the way his hand sneaks under the waistband of his sweatpants, can’t help it when he begins to fist himself, sucking you harder and pressing the flat of his tongue against your leaking nipple.

He’s minutes to making a mess in his sweat before Steve stops him, curling his thick fingers around his wrist.

Bucky whines, hips stuttering forward, he doesn’t stop licking you, the taste of you soothing his nerves. You tug on his soft curls, another whine escapes his throat but he obliges, letting go of your swollen nip and looking up to you with a shameful gaze.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “Didn’t mean to get carried away,”

His heart flutters when you smile down at him, you seem better now, your breathing even and tits looking smaller.

“You misunderstand, baby boy,” Steve’s soft voice urges him to look at him instead, confusion written in his eyes. “I just thought of something even better,”

You cut in before he can finish.

“Bucky,” you say softly, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. For a moment he forgot all about his fingers wrapped around his cock. “Would you like to fuck my tits?”

“God– Yes baby girl, I would fucking love that,”

Normally, being the voice of reason, Bucky would urge everyone to head to the bedroom where there’s a perfectly comfortable bed to lay in– but not now, not today. All clothing is cast aside. All his reason is swallowed deep down by his lust. He straddles your chest as Steve acts as a pillow underneath your head, which sprinkles Bucky with a bit of relief. At least you won’t be entirely uncomfortable. He swallows thick as his pulsing cock rests between your swollen breasts, you’re still leaking, wet streaks glistening all the way to your lower abdomen. Steve slowly curls his fingers around your throat, slightly tilting your head up so you would face him. Bucky wets his lips when you part your lips, tongue out, Steve leans in to kiss you. A drop of precum heavily falls to your chest, his cock twitching.

You moan into the kiss, eyes dropping to meet Bucky’s. Steve’s fingers dance across the frame of your jaw, hooking his thumb into the side of your mouth.

“What are you waiting for?” Steve smiles, despite what his tone might suggest, he’s smiling. “Don’t keep her waiting, Buck,”

“Yeah yeah–” As if waking up from a trance Bucky blinks. “This…won’t hurt will it?”

“No Bucky– Please–”

He can’t deny you for long.

Bucky pushes your tits together, the width of his cock disappearing between the pillowy mounds. He experimentally thrusts forward– The pleasure he feels is sudden, like needles sticking into his skin and awakening him. He hisses between clenched teeth, he’s somewhat aware that Steve’s fucking your mouth with his fingers, eliciting sweet muffled groans from you but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your bosom. He pushes his thumbs into your nipples, more fluid bursting from the sensitive nubs as he rolls his hips a second time, then a third, then a forth–

He knows he’s not going to last. His balls are already tight, the tip of his cock crowning between your tits and touching your chin, a string of precum stretching each time he pulls back his hips. Whining, you pull away from Steve’s fingers and tilt your head down. He feels light headed as you poke out your tongue, sucking on the tip of his cock every time he slams his hips forward.

“You two look so good,” Steve groans, reaching out and squeezing your tits. “Fuck– you ‘bout to cum Bucky?”

“Y-Yeah,” his chest heaves, hips stuttering. “Wanna cum all over her perfect tits–”

You moan when the head of his cock touches your tongue, eyes rolling back. A smug smirk stretching cat-like across his face, Bucky speeds up. His cock is throbbing constantly now, the pressure of sliding between your breasts starting to get the better of it. However, he doesn’t expect Steve to reach forward, pushing his hand between your bodies and cupping his balls. He rolls them between his fingers, grinning as Bucky’s lips part wide with a wanton moan. Beads of sweat slid down his tail bone, his breath choked out. His balls tighten within Steve’s grip and thick ropes of cum shoots from the tip, making a mess of your chest and face. Bucky’s head falls back, whimpering and moaning while continuing to rock his hips. It doesn’t stop. He feels like a teenager at the way he cums endlessly, cock twitching and throbbing.

When he’s finally done he looks down at you, chest rattling with hitched breaths. You look completely dazed, moaning around Steve’s fingers once again as he feeds you his cum. Bucky nearly gets hard again, his gut swirling with arousal. He leans down, cupping both your breasts and kneading them as he presses his lips against yours. His tongue swirls around Steve’s fingers, licks the inside of your mouth, groaning into it when he tastes himself. Bucky breaks the kiss when he feels the wetness growing between his palms, sliding down your body he closes his lips around your nipple again, drinking as if he hasn’t had water for five thousand years. His cock slowly hardening again with your moans gradually becoming louder.

Steve sighs, fingers pushing back Bukcy’s hair, “We should probably talk about what might have caused this tomorrow morning,”

The morning you’re feeling a bit off, your PMS in full force as you stir uncomfortably on top of the bed. Steve pulls you close, the warmth of his hands right above your stomach, stroking lovingly.

“Good morning,” he slurs. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” you groan, Bucky kisses your clavicle and you shudder. “I think I’m going to get my period soon,”

“Care package time,” Bucky says, lips moving against your skin.

“It’s your turn Buck,”

“I know, I know,” he yawns, stretching before getting out of bed. “See you guys in a bit,”

It doesn’t take Steve long for him to start touching you after Bucky leaves, the door closing with a gentle thud. His hands travel down your warm body. Steve hums as he swirls his fingers around your clit before dipping inside you, feeling the last of his release from last night still coating you.

“Still wet,” he murmurs, crooking his finger forward, dragging a sigh from you. You can already feel a familiar tug pulling in your core, his touch firm as he slips a second finger in, scissoring you open with care. His lips find your cheek, a messy kiss pressed to it, barely a distraction from the rhythmic movement of his fingers.

“Steve,” you mewl, trying and failing to keep your voice below a whisper.

Patient as always, he shushes you sweetly, his other arm shifting beneath you until his large hand is cupping your jaw, tilting your face back and allowing him to kiss you fully on the lips. It’s the perfection distraction, the whine you release when his fingers pull out of you stolen by the heavy sweep of his tongue in your mouth.

The taste of stale morning breath has never been better as you continue to kiss, a lazy press of lips and tongues, low groans traded back and forth as Steve pulls your top leg back and over his hip, giving him room to slip his hard length inside you. It’s not a perfect fit from this angle, but it’s enough to have you arching into him, arousal dripping out and around his thick cock.

His movements are small, barely there thrusts of his hips that still send stars bursting behind your eyelids. It’s more than slow, legs tangled and hands grasping, sheets kicked away, allowing the sunlight to find your bare skin.

Normally, he takes his time with you, ensuring you feel every snap of his hips, each dig of his fingers, pounding into you with a ferocious stamina. He tugs and twists and wrings every ounce of pleasure from you, until the only word left inside your heart is his name. He lets his mouth run away from him, drunk off the feeling of fucking you, every dirty thought he’s ever had groaned into your ear.

But in the morning, he moves gingerly, the sunrise tempering his thrusts and stealing his voice. He pulls you close, and moves inside you, a gentle grind of his hips that fan the flames of your pleasure, but somehow keeping you on the very edge of languid.

You move together softly, little gasps and hushed moans breathed into each other as you cling helplessly to the moment. The end is looming close, both of you still feeling the effects of last night tingling at the edge of your arousal. And before you know it, your release is blooming, liquid heat seeping down your spine and pulling your muscles taut. Steve isn’t far behind, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up with his cum.

You do not, cannot move, your heart ragged and stuttering inside your chest. Steve eases you through it, hands tracing the curves of your breasts, lips soothing at the mark his teeth surely left behind. It’s minutes later when he finally speaks, voice still low, though not with sleep.

“I leave you alone for two second–”

Bucky might sound like he's scolding you two but he’s smiling. Steve affectionately kisses the back of your shoulder, his cock softening inside of you. His fingers draw slow circles around your stomach.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Bucky sits back down on the bed, but instead of handing you your usual period care package, he hands you a pregnancy test.

“Just a feeling,” he mumbles softly.

You smile and take it, knowing that whatever happens, they have you. Now and forever.

#chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader

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