#wilfred nagel

[micuko]

[emptymidnight]

After some Nagel discussions on Discord I thought I’d do a little paint over of an old picture I drew last March. Definitely a fun way to see how much I’ve learnt in the last 20 months.

[insomniumstella]

spite her, spite me (7) | bucky x avenger!reader

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky, smut MDI

word count: 8,485

author's note: i cannot believe we reached the end — thank you for all of the comments and the love you've showed this series, it truly means the world! also, i don't know how the nsfw section stretched to be over 2k words and now i'm rethinking every smutty fic i've ever written

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

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“The dress is a bit much,” the sergeant’s eyes raked over her gown. 

The intricately beaded dress was black, and sensual, and outrageous, with a deep slit, which exposed most of y/n’s upper thigh. She might’ve seemed like an angel in devil’s clothing to those of unsuspecting eyes, but James understood better. The woman was a fallen saint, and as he committed the image to memory, he had decided that she was placed on this earth solely to tempt him in every way she could. Their story was never destined to be comforting, and easy, no, the story of James and y/n would always be difficult, complex, and shamefully sinful. 

“It seems Maui had been harsh on you, James,” she spoke, “otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” 

The cool touch of his metal arm brushed against y/n’s skin when he took a step forward, coming to stand beside her. It was bothersome, the closeness of his body as they observed the gala’s guests unsuspectingly dancing, drinking, or conversing about matters they had deemed important.

There was only a single matter on her mind y/n considered meaningful, and she had not seen him for the entirety of the night. Steve had been a nimble shadow, shaking hands with the leaders and first ladies of the world. 

“Perhaps, I was wrong,” the word felt foreign on his tongue, “and HYDRA ceased to exist.”

She angled her face to read his expression, but it was aggravatingly blank, “how’d you figure that out, Sherlock?” 

James noticed the sarcasm in her tone and nearly chose to ignore it, “reviewed some files, checked a couple databases,” possibly hacked into Sam’s iCloud to read the texts between you two. "Have any more theories you’d like to share?” 

She chuckled, then chuckled again from the bewilderment before breaking into a boisterous laugh; it couldn’t have been more disingenuous if she tried. “Why should I if the Winter Soldier will only trample on my ideas?” 

Though the dimly lit ballroom overflowed with chatter and soft sounds of jazz, a tense stillness settled between them. The looming threat of Steve’s assassination was not a time for games and stubbornness, and James was frustrated at the spy’s thorny attitude. 

“The Winter Soldier was blinded by bloodlust, but he’s ready to hear out his partner,” Bucky replied with a deep sigh, hoping she’d crack.

“Oh, we’re partners now?” The clench of his jaw didn’t go unnoticed, and she begrudgingly dropped the act. “Back when we attended Elijah’s yacht party, Mark was wary of you hence the fish tend to be vigilant around James comment. I might forget a name, but I always remember a face.” This time, she angled her entire body to face him. “Mark attended a gala in Germany a couple years prior, Steve had me monitoring the security cameras for hours then, and nothing was particularly interesting except for Mark and Wilfred Nagel’s unlikely friendship.” 

“Shit,” his flesh arm clasped around her forearm, “ Nagel’s the doctor CIA had recruited before he seemingly disappeared into thin air.” 

“Bingo,” she replied with a popping sound. “The accusations against Elijah, Mark’s presence on the boat, and the conversation between him and Wilfred months before Wilfred’s disappearance had me conceptualizing a theory of Mark and Elijah working alongside Nagel to produce super-soldiers.” A server boy approached the couple, and she promptly replaced her empty champagne flute with a fresh glass. “I’d assume Captain America would ruin those plans." 

“The theory’s still blurry,” James released the grip on her arm, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of his black suit. “If they’re plotting to execute Steve, why wouldn’t they assassinate me as well?”

She drank him in — the sergeant’s black suit was made of satin, alike the dress shirt, matching her onyx gown. Perhaps he had willingly chosen to abstain from a tie, or perhaps, he had been too headstrong to admit she had been correct about HYDRA, subjecting James to a lack of time for elaborate preparations. She decided it must’ve been the latter, for Bucky had worn the outfit to a party Natasha had organized after the court had pardoned his crimes. 

“They could,” she agreed, “but they wouldn’t because you’ve been forgiven and have since retired, remember? The Winter Soldier enjoys a peaceful life away from criminals, Avengers, and fights.” 

“The sucker has a wife too,” James gawked into y/n’s eyes, and she tittered at his attempt at a joke. “She looks good tonight.” 

The glimmer in his expression she couldn’t understand.

She took a swig of champagne, peering at James over the flute for a single awkward moment too long, “was that a compliment?” 

“It should’ve been,” he pursed his lips together. 

James was allowed to feel frustrated, angry, and disappointed about y/n’s actions, he had decided after she had packed up and hastily abandoned the honeymoon. The woman had betrayed him by hiding significant information and biting her tongue on theories of HYDRA and its remains. Worse, she had fled Maui without as much as a goodbye, leaving James to sleep in the bed, angrily alone. Though his appetite had been ruined, he had chosen to order room service and watch terrible TV shows she had recommended to Wanda in the prior months. The sheets had been tainted with the scent of y/n’s perfume and lotion, a delicious blend of strawberry and vanilla. The Lovers’ Suite had been scattered with traces of her, and when he had ditched the room at last, deep into the night, even the beach had seemed to remind James of the bizarre yet pleasant memories they had shared. He wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but he had begun missing y/n’s presence, prickly remarks, and the pointless arguments over the smallest of things. 

“Steve’s backstage," Sam’s voice was a muffled sound through the earpiece. 

She took a step forward, using Bucky’s body to shield herself from possibly prying eyes. “What about Mark Basso?” 

James paled at the closeness of their bodies, but remained professional, examining the ballroom of feasible threats. 

“I can’t find him, the dude’s been a ghost for the entire night, but,” there was a pause in his speech, “Elijah Williamson is backstage,” she could hear Sam drum his fingers on a metal surface, “they’ve been conversing for a good while.” A second passed before his words reached y/n’s ears once more. “Are you certain Mark’s appearance at the party is enough to incarcerate him?”

The woman recognized she should inform Sam of the situation without excluding certain details, and yet she couldn’t. If Sam understood the gravity of Elijah’s gala plans, he’d abandon monitoring the security cameras and would certainly place himself in danger to save the Captain. She needed the footage of the events that were to occur backstage, for she had already deceived James, allowing the soldier to believe HYDRA continued to exist. 

The eight months they had spent together, unraveling Elijah’s life, had been honest, on y/n’s part, but the last five days had not. James had pursued false leads and theories, and she had let him. Sam might punish her with a harsh lecture, move to live on Natasha’s floor or stop coming to Friday’s Tequila Nights at Barry’s if he discovered y/n’s incomplete truths, but it’d be worth it, for he’d be in the security room in case Mark had planned to delete the footage. James deserved peace, and she craved to ease his mind two criminals at a time. A former HYDRA officer and a corrupt politician behind bars was a good start to rid of the nasty organization and its remains. 

“The man’s a HYDRA operative,” she reminded, clutching James’ hand to lead him through the crowd of guests, “who just happens to be identified as deceased,” y/n maneuvered around people, dodging staff members and unsuspecting bystanders, “imagine the headlines and the public’s fear when it’ll get revealed the US government missed a dead man walking after the program to incarcerate security threats was implemented.” A corrupt program for a corrupt country. “President Ross would imprison Mark just to save face.”

The pair soon found themselves backstage. The stage was narrow much like the hallways, and though the space had plenty of overhead LED lights, it was painted a pitch-black color, and the confusing maze of corridors, entrances, and clothing racks seemed rather murky. She hauled James into the women’s bathroom and hurriedly locked the door. The soldier had seen women dragging men into bathrooms at clubs and parties. He was old, but he wasn’t dead — James understood what a couple would do in a bathroom together hence his confusion and reddened cheeks. 

She raked her eyes over his face, “we’re not having sex, Barnes.” 

“Is it because Steve needs saving or,” the smallest of smirks danced on his lips as James observed y/n step on the toilet to open a vent, “is it because you want our first time to be special?” Amusement colored his tone. 

She threw a miffed glare toward him before continuing to rummage in the outlet, “do you actually believe I burn with lust for you?” 

“Yes,” Bucky caught a pale yellow gym bag after she tossed it at him, “surely did during the honeymoon.” 

“We’ll always have Maui,” she smiled with faux sweetness, stepping off the toilet and on the sparkling white tiles. 

The smirk dropped from his lips at the comment because he had been open, honest then, and she just teased him about it. If time allowed for it, she might’ve apologized, guilt beginning to claw at her heart, but she ignored the strange emotion. 

“Sam,” she pressed a finger on the earpiece before squatting down to search in the sack, “James is with me,” y/n found an additional earpiece, standing up and taking a step forward to gently attach the gadget onto the soldier, “do you have eyes on Steve?” 

“Yes,” the Falcon murmured, audibly upset by Bucky’s presence. “James, hi,” he spoke through the intercom, “y/n, didn’t you say you'd leave the tin-man in Hawaii?”

“Obviously, I failed,” she replied, earning a soft smack from James on the shoulder, “when does the charity auction start?” 

“It should begin in fifteen minutes,” Sam spoke, inspecting the view on the monitors, “an incredible date with Amelie Barnes, a gorgeous New York City socialite, is fifth on the list to be auctioned, seven offers before the old-fashioned date with the handsome Captain America.”

She glanced up at James, studying his bewildered expression. “There might be a few things you’ve missed,” y/n grinned in faux innocence before promptly clarifying, "we needed access to the backstage areas. Do you have a gun?” 

“No,” James begrudgingly admitted, ashamed to have missed a crucial detail in his attire. 

The pair stood in front of each other without a sliver of space in between. She didn’t give herself a minute to think the action through, resting her hands on his chest as she hastily lowered into a squatting position to reach the bag. James sucked in a breath as y/n’s hands slid across the length of his body. She rested a single palm on his upper thigh for balance while she retrieved a set of pistols, but just before his mind had enough time to register the sudden stimulation, she arose, clutching his flesh bicep to steady herself. 

“Tuck it into the waistba—“

“Alright,” James interrupted her, “I’ve done this before.” 

She let go of his shoulder, taking a step backward. “There’s no need to be rude,” y/n shrugged. 

“I’m not being rude,” he rebuffed the comment, “just worried about where you’re planning to hide the gun.” 

A slight smile waltzed on her lips as she pushed the bottom of her gown aside, faintly exposing lacy onyx panties and a holster. James choked, once, at the obscenity of her response. 

“I’ve done this before,” she teased him, “sergeant.”

The charity auction had been a distant thought until she was standing on the stage with dozens of eyes upon her. She could hear the voice of the auction's host, describing the date she’d be forced to attend and the chatter of middle-aged men, hoping to secure the evening with Amelie Barnes, but y/n could only focus on searching for Mark in the crowd.

Nancy wouldn’t have lied to someone about Elijah and Mark’s wicked plans because the lawyer had zero motives to deceive a person she trusted. At least the woman hoped Nancy trusted whoever it had been on the other side of the phone because her whole plan revolved around Mark’s appearance at the gala. She’d never wish for Steve’s untimely death, but she did wish for the HYDRA operative and the politician to be caught on camera as they attempted to eliminate him.

“Let’s start the bidding at a thousand dollars,” the host announced, and she swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat.

A man on the left side of the ballroom raised his bid paddle. He seemed utterly too old to take y/n out on a date, and she shivered at the possibility.

The host beside y/n smiled, peeking at her. “We have a thousand, can we get more?”

“Two thousand!”

“Three thousand!”

“Five thousand dollars!”

She could barely register the number of voices, each interrupting the next to outbid the other.

A woman, close enough to the stage that she could see her face, raised the paddle. “Ten thousand dollars!”

“Ten thousand dollars for the woman in a green gown,” the presenter spoke cheerfully. “Amelie loves art galleries and tennis at The River Club of New York!” He encouraged the guests to aim higher. “The woman’s a real good company."

What the fuck did Sam tell them?

If she had ever thought that time spent in James Buchanan Barnes’ proximity must have been the worst thing the world could possibly offer, which she often would, she had been wrong. She was a spy, she had undoubtedly used her appearance to obtain certain information or opportunities on missions before, but the auction caused goosebumps to waltz on her skin — to be suppressed into an object, the perfect accessory for a date night, was one of the worst emotions she had ever experienced. 

James stood in the back, observing her panic-riddled expression. She had forgotten Tony’s credit card in Maui on accident, and though Tony would skin him alive if he spent as much as a dime on it, Tony and James had never been close buddies, so what further damage could his impending action legitimately cause if the damage of the two’s past had already been irreversible.

“Fifteen thousand dollars,” James raised the bidding paddle, grinning at y/n.

She stood on the stage perplexed at the sound of Bucky’s voice, frantically searching for his face in the sea of people.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we just got our highest bid of the night! Fifteen thousand dollars for the man in the back going in one, two, th-“

“Thirty grand for the man in blue.” A deep voice reverberated through the room.

She abandoned her search for James, locking her gaze on Mark. The spy had inspected the crowd once, then had inspected it for a second time, and the agent had not been comfortably sitting at a nearby table, peering at her through the top of his champagne flute. Mark must have sneaked in, which signified that either Steve was already dead or Elijah was waiting for Mark backstage, conversing with Captain America before commencing the plan of a brutal murder.

“Forty,” James challenged, studying in which direction y/n’s disgusted glance pointed.

“Fifty thousand,” Mark announced before the host had a chance to say anything, continuing to scrutinize her. The agent’s smile was cocky, overconfident, almost as if she was the victim and he was the hunter; as if he had discovered y/n’s deepest and darkest of secrets.

“Fifty thousand going in one, two—“

“A hundred thousand dollars,” James yelled, interrupting the ghost, and maneuvered to stand by the stage.

Silence settled upon the room at the sheer absurdity of his proposed bid. The truth was, the sergeant had spoken before he could think because the world, at that moment, had not existed outside the gala. She was standing on the platform, the glitter in her special lotion, as she’d describe it, glimmering underneath the fiery spotlight. She was clad in an opulent gown, dripping in pearlescent onyx beads and intricate patterns. She was reduced to nothing but an object in the auction, a good company auction's participants could purchase. 

She, the woman who’d never become a friend, for he’d always crave to be her lover. 

The spy averted her piercing gaze away from Mark and glanced at James. Concern was visibly displayed in his eyes, yet his grin, sweet and playful to steady her nerves, remained. A corner of her mouth quirked up, and she mouthed a silent thank you. James was attempting to outbid every person in the room to save y/n from a terrible date, and he was willing to do it in understanding that Tony would lecture, if not evict, him. 

The moment shattered as she returned her eyes to Mark, and her expression turned deadly. The spy might have played the role of an obedient, pleasant wife and woman on Elijah’s boat, but it was apparent he had acquired some kind of insight into who she verily was. It was useless to pretend she desired to be friends with Mark, a positively unsuspicious Elijah’s friend, who just happened to surprisingly specialize in foreign weaponry. 

“This is shockingly incredible,” the host trumpeted in amazement, pausing for a second, “a hundred thousand dollars for the man in the satin suit going in one, two, three.” Mark basked in the daggers she sent toward him, sipping on his second glass of champagne as James glided onto the stage, clasping y/n’s fingers in his gloved hand, and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “The date with Amelie Barnes has just been sold to the guy in a lovely suit,” James and y/n exchanged amused looks at the host’s comment, “but don’t abandon your seats just yet ladies and gentlemen, because up next we have a cooking lesson at Daniel with the beautiful chef Olivia Stroud.”

“Thank you,” she softly acknowledged his sacrifice at the auction, "for what you did back there."

The pair hid behind heavy velvet curtains, a hairsbreadth away from each other, occasionally peaking through the crack to inspect the limited backstage area for Mark or Elijah. It slightly resembled a room suited for rehearsals, mimicking the layout of the ballroom and the stage on a lesser scale. The space was cluttered and messy, with tangles of cords littering the floor and racks of clothing lining the walls.

A date with Steve was the last to be auctioned before the break, establishing the perfect opportunity to catch him off-guard and without innocent eyes around to witness the gory sight of Captain America’s murder.

James smiled, shyly almost. “I couldn’t allow myself to watch and do nothing while creepy old men fought over a chance to spend time with Amelie,” he teased, adjusting a fallen strap of y/n’s gown, “my hatred for you doesn’t stretch that deep.”

Heat crawled up her neck and onto her cheeks. “Bucky, you are an old man,” the woman teased, “perhaps not creepy, but weird? Absolutely.” 

“I’m not weird,” he argued, suppressing a smile, “you eat ice cream with pickles for toppings.” 

False shock stained the edges of y/n’s expression, “it was one time, and I only tried it because Pepper affirmed it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.”

“Pepper was pregnant,” he reminded playfully, earning a light smack on the shoulder.

The two Avengers swiftly switched into vigilant agents at the sudden squeak of the door. It was Mark, who entered the room first, scanning over the area for unwanted people. Steve appeared in the room seconds later, an arm resting on Elijah’s shoulders as he vehemently laughed at something the politician had mentioned.

It would’ve taken a fool to miss the obvious problem at hand. 

Steve was seldom intoxicated. She’d know, for she had spent too many gatherings attempting to outdrink the man without real success. Thor’s Asgardian mead was deadly to mortals but pleasantly kind to gods and super-soldiers alike. Earthly alcohol, contrariwise, was harsh on him; the taste delectable, the effects on Steve’s modified human body meager. 

It abruptly struck y/n — guns signified blood, plenty of it, and an operative smart enough to fabricate files of his supposed status as deceased wouldn’t be reckless and leave a plash of evidence in the backstage area of a charity gala’s ballroom. 

“Good news,” Sam’s voice echoed in the pair’s ears, “I have eyes on Steve,” he paused briefly, “bad news, Mark Basso and Elijah Williamson are plaguing the Captain.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him by placing a tender finger on his lips. “Sam, how closely were you monitoring the security cameras?”

It was a simple question she hoped the Falcon wouldn’t take offense to. 

He did. 

“I was observing the monitors like a hawk, y/n.” 

She refrained against an unnecessary comment and focused on the task, “and the video has audio?” 

“Yes.”

She took a step forward, closing the barely existent gap between them, “Elijah and Mark must’ve spiked his drink,” y/n hushedly whispered, circling a hand around James’ waist to touch the handgun she had provided. 

The pistol was securely tucked into the waistband of his trousers, and the sergeant cocked his head to the side. I’ve been on missions before, the glimmer in his eyes stated, and she could sense the early stages of his frustration, I didn’t accidentally drop it or nothin’. 

“At any point, did you notice Steve drinking a whiskey he had not ordered himself?” 

“Alright,” Sam clicked his tongue, “so I might not have an answer to that particular question, but I can say that Steve went into the bathroom twenty minutes ago, and his face seemed quite pale.” 

James placed a finger on the gadget, “did anyone accompany him?” 

“Yes, a line of beautiful ladies,” the Falcon responded, and James could nearly visualize Sam rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

The two men bickered some more, but she had tuned out the conversation, studying the scene onward. Everyone has a tell, y/n recalled. Though Steve’s words regarded lies and treacheries, the advice had not yet lost its meaning. It had been New Year’s Eve when she had gotten a nasty infection and had forgone Thor’s mead due to antibiotics. The compound’s residents had partaken in a friendly drinking competition then, and Steve had sworn the alcohol couldn’t exhilarate him, except his eyes had been droopy, and he had clutched James’ biceps for balance. 

Steve leaned on Mark, his laugh far less joyous than it had been before, so perhaps Nancy had been wrong, and they had not planned to eliminate him at the gala, but rather drug the Captain, sneakily transporting his unconscious body to a place, devoid of prying glances and curious endeavors. She wondered whether Elijah would linger in the room until the poison took its course. It’d be easier to carry dead weight, for Steve might fight against the operation.

The plan was meticulously calculated except for a single nuance. Why would the two men bring Steve into the backstage area in the first place if they could’ve used the narrow hallways and hidden exits to sneak out?

“We should slaughter Wilfred.” Mark spoke as if answering y/n’s concerns. “I specifically told Nagel he cannot be late.”

“It’s a slight blunder,” Elijah replied, oblivious to the surroundings, and the woman behind the velvet material, around him. Steve was barely awake. “We have Rogers and a bit of time before he’s supposed to appear on stage.” 

It was impossible to ignore James’ piercing eyes, and she hastily peeped at him. “Do we wait?” 

And she craved to have the correct response to his question, but, despite her usual confidence during missions, she didn’t have an answer. James had allowed her to lead, and she felt as if she was disappointing him, lingering behind a curtain as the Captain, a friend, clutched the very enemies they wished to incarcerate. The only thing y/n understood in great certainty was that Steve’s body couldn’t leave the premises of the establishment. 

“Did you see Mark or Elijah on the phone at any point in the night?” 

“Mark was a ghost,” Sam’s voice crawled through her earpiece, “but I distinctly remember Elijah in a heated conversation. The man arrived at the gala with his wife, presumably, and scuttled away into a lonely corner soon after, which I found interesting.” 

The former HYDRA operative’s phone dinged, and she lowered her hands to reach for the gun strapped to her thigh. Steve’s dormant body nearly hit the ground as he lost consciousness, and Elijah slithered his hands under Steve’s armpits to support the Captain’s weight. The woman’s heart clenched at the sight, of her confidante resting against Elijah’s chest like a heavy sack of potatoes, entirely unresponsive to the situation.

“Let’s move,” Mark clasped his ankles, and the unlikely allies hoisted Steve’s figure, “Wilfred messaged he’s awaiting outside.”

She could only comprehend Elijah's high-pitched shriek that rang in her ears, silencing the laughs, chatter, and footsteps sneaking into the space from the ballroom. James was the first to abandon the secure hiding spot behind the curtain, pointing his gun at the man, a stern expression on his face. A couple seconds passed before she trailed after him, shoving a pistol into Mark’s back as a threat. Steve’s body caused a harsh crash sound when it hit the ground, but she could only concentrate on Sam and the amount of time it’d take him to reach the ballroom backstage from the van parked outside.

“On your knees,” y/n instructed, firmly thrusting the gun against his skin.

The operative lazily raised his arms, making no effort to do as she had requested. “Amelie Barnes,” he chuckled, “what a stupid alias,” the situation didn’t afford contemplations on how he could’ve realized she was more than a homemaker, “though I must admit, I almost fell for the lovebirds' act by the way you two basked in each other on the boat.” Mark’s tone was tainted with smugness. 

Elijah landed a painful punch on James’ jawline, and he staggered back at the surprise of the action before he straightened up and kneed him in the stomach. 

She drew in a breath, “you’re wrong.”

The operative ignored the politician and the fight he seemed to be losing, “am I?”

She jabbed the pistol into his muscled back once more, hands quivering at the unspoken confession; it swallowed the room, knocking the air out of her lungs. “Get down on your knees,” she spat the warning.  

“A dozen names,” he snickered, “and not a single true. Mindy Phillips, Tara Marvin, Katherine Bailey just to identify a few.” 

“This is the last time I’ll repeat myself, get down on your fucking knees.”

“C’mon, y/n,” he spoke, lowering his arms a bit, “we can come to an agreement that’d satisfy both of us.”

She froze at the mention. The curiosity almost lured her into the biggest mistake she could make — playing along. “Elijah and HYDRA’s golden agent behind bars is the only agreement I’d be delighted about.” 

Mark suddenly turned around, grasping one of y/n’s wrists, and she clobbered him across the head with the hand that was clutching the gun. He wobbled, momentarily, before he tackled her to the ground, thighs resting on either side of her own, and gripped y/n’s wrist once more. The gun landed by her, and she writhed in his hold to reach it, but it was useless. Mark harshly pinned her arms above her hand, leaning in so close she could feel his disgustingly hot breath upon the skin of her neck.

He snickered, grazing the top of her ear with his lips, “we could’ve worked together,” Mark lightly nipped at the sensitive spot, “could’ve been a real good team.”

She found his eyes, amused and eerily hungry, and spat in his face, “fuck you.”

Mark laughed, but before he could sputter another comment, James was pouncing on the agent, resting his entire weight on him just as Mark had done to y/n, mercilessly pummeling the flesh of his upper body.

She averted her gaze from the bloody sight, searching for Elijah. The politician was sprawled out on the cement floor, by Steve’s feet, unconscious. A huge gash tainted his bottom lip, and purple had begun tinting his cheekbones. She glimpsed at James and the small cuts that adorned his handsome face; Elijah must’ve stricken a few great hits before the sergeant had stunned him cold.

Sam barged through the door. Besides the Falcon, she was the only person in the room without visible injuries, though her joints ached from the pressure Mark had used to clutch them.

“I called reinforcement,” he spoke, kicking her gun to a corner Mark couldn’t reach.

“Care to help?” Bucky’s teasing comment amidst a fight was almost comforting.

Sam rolled his eyes, joining James in the scuffle with the agent. She focused on Steve, crawling to his dormant body. Though it was dreadfully faint, his heartbeat remained. It was difficult to raise the top half of his weight, yet y/n succeeded, supporting his neck and shoulders as she inspected the back of his head for damage. She gasped silently, noticing that the blonde of his hair had been stained red. The split in his skin wasn’t deep enough to be profoundly alarming, but it'd require stitches. Speedily, she checked the time on his watch, creating a mental note, and lowered his figure to rummage in his pockets for a cell phone. The Captain’s head she placed upon her folded legs.

The woman’s fingers trembled as she typed in the emergency number. In the years they had worked together, never had Steve fallen unconscious, nor had he obtained a gaping gash in the back of his scalp. Elijah and Mark must've given him an alarmingly high dose of tranquilizer to knock the super-soldier out entirely, and she was scared.

The two Avengers had handcuffed Mark when the call between y/n and the local emergency service had ended. The operator’s voice has been soothing and calm, and she had turned the iPhone off feeling far more composed than she had been when she made it.

“An ambulance should be here in a few minutes.”

“That was quite dramatic,” Mark noted, a weak chuckle slipping past his lips, “Steve ingested sedatives, not poison.”

James placed a gun to his temple, and Sam planted a hand on the sergeant’s shoulder, “don’t engage him,” the Falcon advised, turning to y/n, “did you know?” 

She recognized Sam’s true question was did you know they planned to kill Steve?

“Yes,” she averted her gaze to observe Steve, “I’m sorry.” The spy was genuinely apologetic for hiding certain information. 

Sam drew in a deep breath, pursing his lips together, “why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

“I needed you to monitor the security cameras,” she answered truthfully, “I needed someone to transfer the footage into our database,” the explanation was honest once more, “I was afraid Mark or Elijah would attempt to tamper with it.”

“She was right, we had a whole plan 'n' everything,” Mark chimed in, and James pushed him down to his knees.

He sighed in frustration, the pistol lingering in its position against Mark’s skin, “stay fucking quiet, asshole.”

The Falcon ignored the commotion in the background, his expression strained as he continued to stare at her, “you should’ve told us.”

The statement disintegrated into thin air, the weight of it still heavy on her shoulders. She stayed silent, brushing away the sweaty pieces of hair that had stuck to Steve’s forehead. His face was eerily peaceful as he rested, unconscious, on the cement floor, head propped on y/n’s thighs. The gown Sam had chosen for the evening was sprinkled with blood in various spots, albeit the dark color disguised it. It was gorgeous and elegant, she’d admit, but it was destined to burn after the events that had unfolded during the gala.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice drained of emotion.

“The two of you should return to the hotel,” Sam suggested when a group of FBI officers spilled into the room, “shower, eat, rest. I have zero doubts it’s been an exhausting week,” he half-heartedly joked, referring to the faux honeymoon, “I’ll stay with Steve.” 

“Sam,” she spoke, “we want t—“

“Go,” the Falcon interrupted her, “please,” one of the officers firmly hoisted Mark, and James swiftly reached y/n’s kneeling figure, “I got this.” The tone of his voice had whispers of irritation at its edges. 

“Alright,” she agreed, helping a paramedic transfer Steve’s body onto a stretcher, “I trust you.” 

Sam glanced at James, shoving his hands into his pockets, and returned his eyes to y/n. “Good.” The look they exchanged was strangely comforting, the kind of look that conveyed Sam wasn’t angry, per se, but rather vanquished, and disappointment she could deal with. 

She offered him a weak smile, “I should shower.”

The Falcon chuckled, mouthing a silent go, and turned his focus to James, both of you. 

James stood in the hotel room’s doorway.

She was fidgeting with lavish jewels, her patience stretching thin as the necklace’s clasp remained closed despite y/n’s nimble fingers attempting to work it open. She glanced at him, once, before regaining focus. “Why are you here?”

The sergeant shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. “I forgot to book a hotel room.”

She ceased her movements, observing his awkwardness-laden body language. James’ long-forgotten suit jacket dangled over his bent arm, the other hand shoved into the pocket of his satin trousers.

“May I suggest driving back to the compound?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a small grin at y/n’s thorny response, “we’re in the middle of Manhattan, and the compound is a three-hour drive away.” James closed the heavy wooden door, locking it behind him. “Can I stay with you?”

“It seems you’ve answered the question before I had the chance,” she referenced the action, staring at him in forged disbelief.

The atmosphere stilled in a pregnant pause. It wouldn’t be harmless for the couple to sleep in the same bed. They had done it in Maui, and neither her skin had broken out in a rash nor had she perished. On the contrary, it was peaceful to relish in the warmth of his skin.

James dumped the jacket on an empty chair, slowly coming to stand in front of the woman. She could almost hear the thumping of his heart, his body a hairbreadth away. Sirens echoed outside the sealed window, saturating the silence in crimson sounds. New York City contrasted with the lush green of upstate New York. The living quarters at the compound were usually deprived of clamor, protected against harsh winds and white noise by thick cement walls. 

“Let me help you,” James cooed, sliding his hands across the skin of her arms upward. The soft pads of his fingers caressed her collarbone before he grasped the necklace’s clasp and easily worked it open. “We could be great together,” he spoke, turning to gently place the diamond choker on a glass desk, “great partners,” her fingers ghosted over the spots James had touched, “great lovers,” he toyed with the idea. 

The sergeant returned to his previous place and, “great lovers,” she teased, “you think we could fit together?” 

“Mmmh,” he concurred, “but we always extinguish the flame before it truly burns.”

She brushed her hands across the smooth fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the firmness of his muscled chest beneath the textile. We always extinguish the flame before it truly burns. Perhaps James was correct — she had been opposing a traitorous fire within the deepest pits of her heart, and body, long before Wanda had a terrible idea to send the two on a faux honeymoon. 

“Kiss me,” she spoke in an honest confession of lust. 

“What?” James’ voice was breathless as he gawked at the woman in foreign excitement and disbelief. 

Oh, the way he hoped she’d realize that the line between love and hatred stood thin, and they had surely blurred it in Maui, but never did James think she genuinely would. The fault was his, partially. It had been easy to fabricate false narratives for the compound’s residents, convince himself he loathed the woman despite the countless nights of wandering hands and shameful memories of her body. James had designed a malicious persona, but oh, the way he hoped she’d see through it. 

“Kiss me,” she repeated, “because just once, I need to get you out of my system,” her hands slithered to his biceps, “kiss me, so the next time I’ll touch myself at night, it won’t be your face I’ll be seeing.” 

James cupped the back of y/n’s neck, crashing their lips together. The world in the background ceased to exist at the moment. He swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, asking for permission, and she surrendered to the request, tangling her fingers in his copper locks. She gingerly pulled at the root, earning a muffled whimper from James, and he slid his metal arm down to y/n’s waist to bring the woman closer, to erase the barely existent gap between their bodies. She burned with arousal, and Bucky was equally as famished. It was only the lack of oxygen that pulled the couple apart, and James drew in a deep breath, capturing y/n’s lips once more seconds later.

It was a dangerous promise, the kiss. A wildfire that spread through the entirety of her body, stimulating every nerve ending until she was moaning into his mouth as a plead for more, tongues fighting for dominance. It knocked the air out of her lungs, and when she retreated, James didn’t meld their lips, opting to focus on y/n’s neck. He kissed, licked, and sucked the sensitive skin like a man deprived of the only thing he’s ever desired. She was a drug, and god, was James addicted to her scent and her silky skin, and her hands, sloppily untucking his dress shirt, to slide under the fabric and explore his taut muscles. Everywhere she touched scorched, and he messily searched for the zipper of her gown, discarding the dress to the ground as soon as the piece of metal relented.

She was the most beautiful sight James had ever seen as she stood in front of him in just a pair of lacy panties. Art, created by the world’s most talented of artists, an angel bestowed to him by the gods themselves. 

The sergeant brushed his flesh thumb across her lower lip, blending their lips together. His metal hand, the one she had always disgracefully thought was outrageously attractive, slithered between her plush thighs, and James moaned into her mouth upon discovering that she was soaked and aching for him. He shifted the undergarment to the side for access, dragging his fingers through her silken folds. 

Cool metal thumb pressed into her clit, and she broke the kiss, “inside,” she spoke, the tone of her voice laced with desperation, “I want you inside of me.” 

“Sweet girl,” James chuckled, inserting a single digit into her slick heat, “you need to be stretched first.” 

He thrusted his finger a few times before adding a second digit. She clenched around him, messily unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the carpeted floors. The pace of his thrusts remained steady and agonizingly slow as James basked in her pleasure-riddled expression. 

The woman clutched the waistband of his trousers, messing with the belt, her fingers trembling as James continued to stroke the sensitive spot inside her with two of his fingers. “Please,” she muttered, “faster.” 

A sly smirk waltzed on his lips at the request, but, instead of obeying y/n’s wishes, he halted the activity, removing his hand, and placed the metal in his mouth, sucking it clean, “such a sweet thing you are.” 

Warmth crept up her neck and onto her cheekbones. He hastily removed the trousers, placing his hands on the back of y/n’s upper thighs, hoisting the woman, and gently tossed her onto the spongy bed. She stared at him through curious eyes, lowering her gaze to observe the bulge in his boxers, and swallowed the lump in her throat. Judging by the outline in his underwear, James was huge, far bigger than the men she had fooled around with in the past. 

“I want to taste you,” she confessed, propping herself up on her elbows.

James shook his head no, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her onyx panties to tear them off, “next time, doll.” 

She wasn’t certain whether there would be a next time, for James had discovered a side to her, she had long buried. An alter ego, who was submissive, and pliable, and starved for the touch of a man she described as her enemy. 

James nestled between her legs, arms on either side of her waist, and placed chaste kisses on y/n’s mouth and jawline. His head dipped lower as he assailed her neck and chest, popping a nipple in his mouth. The sergeant sucked the sensitive bud before nipping on it, massaging her other breast with his hand and rolling the right nipple between his fingers. 

She writhed under him, eyes shut from the waves of pleasure racing through her. James didn’t linger over the area, choosing to concentrate on kissing the length of y/n’s body as he crawled to situate himself betwixt her thighs. Goosebumps painted the path of his eager kisses, and she grasped a handful of his hair when James gave her clit a kitten lick to test the response. 

“James,” she purred as he repeated the action and slithered two digits back into her dripping heat. 

“Use your words,” he grazed his tongue over the bud again, applying a little bit more pressure, “tell daddy what you want.” 

The woman’s eyes shot open at the term but then he was thrusting his fingers into her wetness, repeatedly hitting the delicious spot that made her toes curl, the insult toward James forgotten. 

“Mouth,” she mumbled, too lost in the delectation to form a coherent sentence. 

James snickered at her vague response, wrapping a pair of soft lips around y/n’s clit. The thrusting of his fingers persisted as he stimulated the area. James was spelling out his full name on her sex, she realized by the time he had started tracing a b for Buchanan, yet she abstained from further reflections, coming undone by his mouth and fingers seconds before James could complete tracing the s in Barnes.  

“Good girl,” he praised, helping y/n ride out her orgasm.

James withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean of y/n’s stickiness before he removed the metal with a pop, and peeled off his boxers, flinging the garment across the space.

The room was modern and opulent, with floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the ever-awake skyline of New York City, its sky-high buildings, impressive bridges, and countless lights. It was situated on the fortieth floor of the hotel, creating a perfect opportunity to indulge in a bit of a rush and leave the curtains wide open without a true risk of innocent bystanders witnessing the scene.

James kneeled on the bed. The usual glimmer of annoyance toward her in his eyes had been replaced by a feral kind of hunger, and, as she stared at him like a pray would observe its hunter, y/n decided that, just maybe, this wouldn’t be the first or the last time she’d let James treasure her body. 

She loosely draped her forearms over his neck when he slanted to capture her nipple in his mouth, “I know you consistently ignore my wishes,” she whimpered, “but for the love of god, sergeant, I need you.” 

He chuckled, showing attention to the other bud by pinching it, “my sweet girl wants to get filled, huh?” 

James’ throbbing weight rested heavily against the skin of her thighs, and she reached down to palm it. “Yes.” 

The woman’s nimble fingers caressed the reddened tip, spreading his precum on the surface before she dipped her hand a tad lower to gently fondle his balls. A moan escaped past his lips at her eager endeavor. 

“I like it when you’re needy,” James pulled back and she groaned at the loss of him in her hands, “and dripping,” his fingers ghosted over the velvety folds before he was manhandling the spy to rest on her knees and forearms, “willing to let daddy take care of you.” 

She ignored the name yet again but stored it within her memories to use for blackmail in the future. “Is he?” She questioned when Bucky clutched her hips and pushed his hand down on her back for a deeper arch. “Is daddy gonna fuck me, or is he just going to talk all night?” 

James understood she only used the term to mock him, but shit, did it stir his already aching cock. He palmed himself twice before dragging his length along her slick folds, the metal hand abandoning her hips to circle her waist and gently rub y/n’s clit from behind. She clenched around emptiness, pressing into his pelvis for friction, and Bucky ceased his movements, removing the fingers from her bud to harshly grip the flesh of y/n’s hips once more. James continued the torture, lazily teasing her entrance, and she painfully sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. 

“What do we say when we want something?” He taunted the woman, utterly enjoying her anguish. 

“James,” she mumbled into the crisp sheets. 

The soldier found amusement in the warning but showed mercy, sinking into her sodden heat. He’d fuck the brat out of her on a different day.

A strained whimper escaped past her lips at the delicious stretch of his cock, matching Bucky’s hiss at the way the spy’s walls drunk him in. James thrusted into her a few times, experimenting with speed and rhythm. A particularly rough roll of his hips seemed to rip a piercing moan from y/n’s throat, and he grinned, abandoning the hold on her hips to massage her clit again.

The room was saturated in vulgar noises of skin slapping against skin, moans, and desperate whines as James mercilessly pounded into her. She sobbed into a pillow as he led her to the edge for the second time, refusing to burst the bubble and let the flame consume her, thick fingers retreating just before the orgasm could ignite her body, over and over again.

James consumed every shallow breath and every wail, deciding that it would not be the last time he’d listen to the melody — she was a sin he’d gratefully burn in hell for, and an angel he’d break down heaven’s gates to attain. The soldier suddenly removed himself from her, already missing y/n’s silken walls squeezing around him, and shifted the woman, so that she rested on her back. He captured her ankles, draping them over his shoulders before he roughly thrusted back in. She wept at the overstimulation when he bottomed out, balls slapping against the skin of her ass. The new angle allowed James to reach far deeper. 

He groaned, “you’re so tight,” thumb brushing against her plush lips, “my sweet, sweet girl,” he cooed, “wanna worship this pussy all night.” 

And in his head, the statement stood true, but it was his body that opposed it, his arousal steadily creeping over the edge of an orgasm. 

She shut her eyes, expression drenched with pleasure, “I’ma cum,” she moaned. 

“I know, doll.” James wiped off the tear threatening to roll down her cheek and captured y/n’s lips in a messy kiss. 

“It feels good—,” she hiccuped when he pulled away, “—so good.” 

The world stilled. It was only James’ ragged breath and the heavenly orgasm she could focus on, washing over her body in syrupy waves and causing her toes to curl into the mattress below. She raked her nails over the skin of his back, leaving scorching marks in her wake. 

“Shit,” James cursed as his own peak approached, his strokes sloppy. 

It was a few thrusts later when he climaxed, painting her velvety walls white with a loud moan. He licked a sensitive spot on y/n’s neck, propping himself up on his forearms when the thunderous arousal began to quiet.

She brushed the hair that had gotten stuck to his sweaty forehead aside, “we don’t have evidence to convict Nancy,” she spoke when her heartbeat steadied.  

James sighed amusedly, pulling out his softened length and maneuvering to lay beside her. “This is what you say after we just had sex for the first time?” 

“Yes,” she deflected, refusing to admit she had fallen for the soldier and that it would not be the only time they’d get tangled in the sheets. 

“Alright,” he abandoned the bed with a laugh and gathered y/n’s exhausted body in his arms to locate the bathroom, “but let’s shower before we talk shop.” 

James observed the skyline of New York City. It was the place they had first encountered one another, back when he had brutally stabbed the woman. She rested on his bare chest now, peacefully asleep, soft snores falling from her lips. Times have changed, James realized with a heavy heart because change was uncertain and scary. It was worth it, though, if it meant the sergeant could love her up close and without barriers between them. It’d surely take a while to erase the tainted memories of the past, but they had been at war for five years, and he’d happily spend another five falling in love. 

An iPhone James had recently purchased dinged with a text. 

CAPTAIN AMERICA: guess Wanda and I won’t have to sleep with our eyes open after all:)

His mouth curved into a smile, elated Steve had not only woken up but was cracking jokes over the situation he had forced Bucky into. 

WHITE WOLF: debatable. 

It was not debatable — Steve and Wanda sending the couple on a honeymoon in Maui was the best decision they could’ve made, for the moon found his sun at last. 

TAGS:

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[amjo-vnl]

Victims of Baron Zemo

I couldn't find this list on the Internet (maybe I wasn't looking hard enough), so I decided to make it myself.

1.  Colonel Vasily Karpov (cause of death: drowning)

1.1. (alternative scene of getting the book)

~48 people at the auction (cause of death (or knockout): asphyxiation by gas)

2. ~12 people, including King T'Chaka (cause of death: explosion at the UN)

And more than 70 people were injured

3. Dr Theo Broussard (cause of death: (?)stab wound)

4. 5 soldiers of the Elite Death Squadron (cause of death: gunshot wound)

5. Overseer Menz (cause of death (or knockout): physical injuries)

6. Dr Wilfred Nagel (cause of death: gunshot wound)

7. 4 bounty hunters (cause of death: gunshot wound)

8. (by the hands of an old friend)

4 members of the Flag Smashers (cause of death: van explosion)

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 32

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,853

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: GET LOW

You have to keep your priorities straight. There's a group of terrorist super soldiers running around while the serum to create them is apparently being created in the worst possible place for it, Madripoor. You only agreed to this mission to solve that problem; nothing else should be on your mind nor of your concern. The sooner you fix things, the sooner you can return home where you somewhat wish you would've stayed to begin with.

Despite your bitter and anxious mood, you keep strictly to your assigned character during negotiations. Standing behind Zemo with hands kept clasped in front of yourself, you pay close attention to every word said not because you care for the conversation itself, but so that you can be prepared if anything goes wrong.

As scripted, you only move when Zemo offers to 'trade' the Winter Soldier to Selby in exchange for information, at which point you briefly hold up a book for her to see containing the supposed code words (none that are accurate, as you made sure to confirm before even entering Madripoor).

Earlier when this part of the plan had been explained to you, you were hesitant, yet now you find yourself caring a little less, a petty side of you almost wanting to actually leave him here with this lunatic crime-lord since she seems perfectly willing to take him off your hands. It's not like you plan to ever come back to Madripoor anyway, so he'd never have to worry about seeing you again; a total win for him.

The good news is you get a lead from Selby: a man named Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the one making super soldier serum. The bad news? She refuses to say where you can find him, not even willingly to mention if he's in Madripoor. The worst news? Sam forgot one of the biggest rules to undercover missions: turning off your damn phone.

It's at this point that your facades begin to unravel like a cat's favorite ball of yarn. Based on the way Sam looks around the room nervously, you can tell it isn't a scam call or wrong number, yet there's nothing any of you can do for him once Selby demands he answer it on speaker phone. Despite his desperate attempts to maintain his role as Smiling Tiger, the woman on the other end doesn't get the hint, stubbornly remaining on line until delivering the final blow by referring to him by name.

"'Sam'? Who's 'Sam'?" Selby becomes enraged immediately, "Kill them -!"

Almost as soon as those words left her mouth, a bullet came crashing through the window, hitting Selby from behind and causing her to fall limp onto the ground. From there, you're only allowed a brief moment of surprise before a fight ensues.

Thankfully unlike the bar downstairs where there would've been a gun pointing at you from every direction, there are only two armed guards in this private room who are slow to react. Bucky and Sam easily knock them out while taking their guns for themselves which is enough of a threat for everyone else to flee without causing any further trouble, although that doesn't necessarily save any of you from this new situation you've landed yourselves in.

"We have a real problem now," Zemo complains, yet his behavior comes across as being no more inconvenienced than he would be if someone spit in his tea, "Leave your weapons and follow my lead."

You wish you could be as calm, too - which is the first and only time you'll be jealous of Zemo for something. Sure, you can act calm, but to truly be it is another talent. It doesn't matter how straight your expression is nor how casual you try to walk while still being swift on your feet; you feel like a deer walking through a shooting range the second you step onto the streets, senses heightened as you wait for any sign of danger directed your way.

You don't have to wait long. The lights of the street suddenly flash off, leaving you blinded by darkness soon disrupted by a flurry of gunshots aimed at your group. It's complete chaos after that. There’s no uniformed or planned attack like what you're used to. It's a city of criminals governed by no leadership or morals, only their own selfish interests in mind.

There's gunshots to your left and gunshots to your right. People screaming as they run for cover, people shouting as they chase after you through the many streets and allies. Now, you haven't been to the gym in months - Alright, maybe years, but practiced exercise is nothing compared to pure adrenaline. The mere thought of your life being on the line as motorcycles roar somewhere close by serves as the perfect motivator for your legs to keep moving, chasing directly behind Bucky who likely has no idea where he's going, but anywhere is better than stopping to ask for directions.

Your pace only slows when coming around another corner, at which point you foolishly duck upon hearing two more gunshots fired from somewhere ahead. When you don't feel the force of any bullets ripping through your body, you turn around to see the motorcycle drivers both hunched over lifeless.

“Well, this is too perfect,” A voice comes as a woman steps out of the foggy darkness, only removing a hand from her gun briefly to pull down her hood which reveals her face to the rest of you. If it weren’t for your excellent memory, you likely would’ve had a harder time recognizing her as Sharon Carter, someone you’ve only met once and under far different circumstances, but she’s an ally nonetheless.

This would be the point where you sigh if not for still trying to catch your breath and steady your nerves.

You're grateful for the opportunity to finally switch out of this stupid disguise you've been forced to wear all night and pleased to see Sharon has offered quite the selection of new outfits to choose from, although most look far too fancy for your taste, particularly the ones drenched in glitter. Not wanting to look like a walking disco ball, you pick something comfortable yet pretty and, most importantly, suitable for action since you highly doubt your game of dodging bullets is over just yet.

Glancing around to check on everyone else, you notice they all seem to be doing their own thing. Sam's trying to find his own change of clothes from the rack, Zemo's currently helping himself to Sharon's alcohol collection, and Bucky has simply plopped down on the couch with back turned to the rest of you (brooding, as you would assume).

"Is there someplace I can change?" You ask Sharon once she returns. She tosses her coat onto the couch next to Bucky and spares you a quick look as she passes by.

"What? Can't change here?" While her tone may have been teasing, that smirk on her face makes you question if she's truly joking, however you certainly aren't.

You'll confess that you've changed in the same room as Bucky before, however you'd also argue that the circumstances were very different then. To him, you had been roommates for so long that it didn't seem like a big deal to switch shirts or sleep in only boxers in your presence. To you...Well, you've always known that you had both done a little more than simply 'change' in front of each other in the 40s, so why be embarrassed about your roommate-once--fiancé catching a sneak peek?

The point is, while you're comfortable around Bucky, that doesn't apply to anyone else in this room. Sam's a friend you barely know, Sharon's a person you don't know, and Zemo's a liability you'd have to strangle if he so much as thought of saying anything remotely inappropriate.

"I'd rather have privacy."

Sharon rolls her eyes with a scoffed laugh, "Sorry, I didn't think you'd mind. You've never seemed that shy around men before."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Your voice alone warns her to answer carefully as does your irked expression, yet she still turns away from you with a careless shrug.

"It's just that you come across as someone who likes attention, that's all. What, with you going from Rogers, Barnes, Stark then Barnes again; you sure get around, but hey, props to you for having fun with your life, I guess."

"You know there's this thing called 'friends', right?" Sam interjects, unable to himself. He knows you all desperately need Sharon's help in finding Dr. Nagel, but he has trouble biting back the offense he takes on your behalf from her unwarranted comments.

For better or for worse, she isn't fazed by Sam's disapproval, instead responding sarcastically to it, "Really? Never heard of it."

"Like that isn't obvious," You roll your eyes then land them on Bucky who unlike Sam doesn't bother to show an ounce of concern for how Sharon's treating you, his back remaining completely turned to the problem.

Although his silence has been bothering you this whole time, you must say it especially stings right now. You understand that he's mad, but so much so that he isn't even willingly to say a single word in your defense? That he's just going to sit there and let her basically call you a whore? He knows the truth, all he has to do is say it. Who cares if it actually shuts Sharon up? At least he'd look like a decent gentleman by attempting to protect your honor instead of a total asshole wordlessly supporting her point!

Looking back at Sharon, you match her crossed arms and pair them with a disinterested stare, "I know you're bitter and shit about Steve leaving you for your aunt, but that doesn't involve me, so if you're that desperate to lift your ego, I suggest picking up a hobby or - better yet - moving on instead of pissing me off which I will only warn you once is a dangerous game to play.

"I'm sure you'll be pleased to know Barnes and I - we're nothing; not even friends. The sole reason why I'm right now is because Sam, a friend, asked nicely and I, for one, don't want anyone dragging the name of super soldiers through the mud; personally, I don't think Steve's legacy deserves that. Now is there somewhere I can change or not?"

Despite the bite behind your words, Sharon appears more impressed than offended or sorry as she nods her head towards the hallway, "There's a bathroom down the hall, three doors to your right."

"...Thanks," You brush past her with your clothes in hand, more convinced than ever that you'll never step foot in Madripoor again after this even if the rest of the world were to be on fire.

Seconds after you disappear through the glass doors, Bucky turns to send a glare Sharon's way, "What the hell was that?"

"What? ...Oh, come on! Did I really hit that deep of a nerve? I thought for Avengers, you'd all have thicker skin," Sharon's attempt at innocence crumbles under Bucky and Sam's intense glares, yet she merely sighs in frustration before going to pour herself a glass of alcohol over where Zemo's been watching the whole scene unfold while sipping his brandy in amusement.

"I highly doubt I'm the only one who finds it a little suspicious that someone who stuck their neck out for the Winter Soldier and Captain America was entirely forgiven when rich boy Tony Stark cried out in their favor only to conveniently fall right back into their former lover's arms after his death. I mean, last I saw they were practically your little lap dog seven years ago and honestly, I can't say it seems much has changed once Stark got out of the way."

Sharon finishes her little rant by collapsing on the opposite side of the couch as Bucky who shakes his head in disbelief, "Wow, you're kind of awful now, aren't you?"

"Look, Sharon. I'm sorry for everything that happened. I'm sorry no one ever called -" Sam starts.

"- You make it sound like it was just a missed date or something -"

"- I know that it seems like (Y/n) got off easy compared to the crap you've had to put up with after helping us, but it's not their fault how things ended. Stark was there to stand up for them while no one was there for you, so don't blame them, blame me. I should've called, but after the Blip, it was chaos and I -"

"- Oh, save your breath," Sharon shakes her head, looking back at Sam from over the edge of the couch, "...You know all this hero stuff is just bullshit, right? Deep down, you know it's all hypocrisy and that's why you gave up the shield."

"He knows, just not that deep down," Zemo asserts from the corner of the room, however Sam himself can't seem to say anything, only able to remain quiet while wishing he had your talent for snapping back. He wants to say something to disprove Sharon's allegations, yet he instead hands her the win with his silence, allowing her to go back to finishing her drink just in time for you to return, clearly still irritated and too much so to question whether the dim energy of this room is from your past conversation or a new one.

"Alright, so what's the plan? How are we finding this Dr. Nagel, hmm?" You get right to business, not even bothering to act cheerful or excited as you normally would; your will to do so for everyone else's sake is officially run dry.

"Are you guys still sure you want to get involved in this?" For once, Sharon doesn't show much confidence, in fact you would even say she sounds genuinely concerned as she sets her empty glass on the table, "For your own safety, I'd recommend that you don't. Nagel works for the Power Broker who, might I remind you, you're already in deep shit against after what happened with Selby."

"Free range super soldiers being produced under the management of a criminal empire? Yeah, for the safety of the world, I'd say backing down isn't really an option here," You argue, half surprised Sharon doesn't have some smartass comment to swing back at you which proves that while she might be a pain to deal with, she at least isn't stupid.

"To do this we need your help, Sharon. We can get your name cleared -" Sam adds.

"- Heh. Haggling with my life now, are we?"

"Not like that -"

"- Mmm, I don't buy it - you pretending to clear my name as your bargaining chip?"

"I can try," Sam walks around the couch, standing in front of Sharon with a hand outstretched towards her, "It's not impossible, after all, they already cleared the name of a bionic staring machine after he killed almost everyone he met -"

"- I heard that -"

"- I don't trust charity."

"It's not really 'charity'," You sit on an armchair and shrug when Sharon's glances around Sam at you, "Charity is the act of voluntary giving. We're not just 'giving' you anything, we're offering an exchange. You help us find Nagel, Sam here gets your name cleared. Can't be that hard. The government's views change like a flip of a dime. Catch 'em at a desperate time of need and they'll be more willing to pardon you for your help in the cause."

"...Nice to see someone here admits to seeing the hypocrisy of it all," Sharon inhales and exhales deeply, her words causing you to raise an eyebrow in confusion after having missed the context to them earlier. Nevertheless, it doesn't matter as she finally shakes Sam's hand and stands to her feet, "I sell to some pretty connected people, so just lay low, stay out of trouble, and enjoy the party while I see what I can do."

You're not a fan of crowds, but at least this suffocating party beats being cornered in a bar full of hostile, armed patrons. Here everything is more laid back, similar to any noncriminal run club. The music is blaring, lights flashing, and ground vibrating as guests dance to their hearts' content. All you have to do now is just look like you're equally enjoying yourself for a few hours which is significantly easier than your previous role as 'silent assistant'.

Leaned against a wall, your laughter becomes comparable to the booming of the bass and is contagious within the group of party goers standing around you. You just gotta keep this up - keep engaging in a few more conversations, tell a couple of funny jokes while downing a drink or two along the way, and soon that annoying, nagging voice inside your head will finally go mute, allowing you to sink deeper and deeper into your game of intoxicating pretend.

"Hey -!" You're suddenly pulled away from your new group of friends when Bucky grabs your arm, quite literally tugging your attention from them to him. While he's technically successful, you're hardly amused, immediately ripping your arm away from him with a glare and another swig of your drink.

"- What?"

Bucky, who was going to say something else, becomes distracted when his eyes flicker down to your half-empty bottle, "...Don't you think you've had enough?"

You huff, bringing the bottle back up to your lips while maintaining your glare, "I'm not going to get drunk if that's what you're worried about. I'm able to handle my liquor quite well, thank you very much. It's in my blood, after all."

Bucky sighs, half tempted to rip that bottle away from your stubborn hand, however he refrains from the urge.

"...Have you heard anything from Sharon yet?" Your question echoes within the glass as you survey the active party around you both.

"No. Last I heard, she's still talking to her 'connections'."

"Well hopefullyshe starts speeding things up. It's been a long enough night already," You'd blame it on exhaustion fogging up your mind, but in truth, it's probably the relief from Bucky's finally talking to you which seems to take some weight off of your shoulders, allowing you to relax and speak more freely in his presences - to be more like yourself unlike how you've been behaving around those other party goers...however you shouldn't have been so trusting to this feeling.

"Then you should go rest."

"Not until we find Nagel."

Bucky pauses, not even looking at you as he just stares at some other far off place in the room, "...I think you should stay here while we go talk to Nagel ourselves."

"There's no point in that," You sigh, "I came here to help you guys, not stand on the sidelines."

"It wasn't a suggestion."

"What?" You return your glare to him once more.

"It's not necessary for all of us to go. We don't need five people -"

"- Does my presence add that much to the equation? Three people is fine, but four's a crowd? In that case, why not have Sharon stay behind? She's the tag-along...Or is it just me?"

"It...It has nothing to do with you, okay? I just think -" Bullshit. He acts as if your accusation is nothing short of ridiculous yet never looks directly at you longer than an impatient glance. It is you.

"- Here's an idea: how about you just pretend I'm not there, yeah?" You put your free hand on your hip, feeling your blood begin to boil the more his words sink into your skin, "I mean, that's what you've been doing this whole time and you seem to have gotten pretty damn good at it, I'd say, so I doubt it'll kill you to do for a few extra hours."

Bucky inhales deeply while pinching the bridge of his nose, "...Look, we've already run into trouble and barely got out of it just searching for Nagel. Actually talking to him is going to be dangerous."

"Alright? And your point is?"

"You're at the most risk out of all of us. You don't have any formal training, you don't have any powers. Just - Come on and be reasonable. You'll only get yourself hurt -!"

"'Be reasonable'?" You can't help but laugh with a shake of your head, "I am being reasonable! In case you've forgotten, I protected your ass for two whole years and helped the Avengers fight Thanos twice! That's not even mentioning the shit I went through against HYDRA, either! For fucks sake, I've been shot at before, so training or not, the fear of dying isn't new for me!"

Your fury falters and you immediately regret your choice of words once noticing Bucky's reaction to them. Almost as soon as they're said, his expression becomes shattered and mournful, and a part of you instantly feels terrible seeing that, yet at the same time, your lingering anger - still fueled by your inner, unresolved pain - prevents you from outright apologizing.

"...You're a liability if you go..."

You grip your bottle, almost wishing it would just shatter in your hands to emphasize what you're feeling right now. Maybe then you'd have an excuse to cry in front of so many people - people who would definitely raise eyebrows if you were to completely lash out right now and confront Bucky with every swirling thought that's been burning hotter on your tongue following each drop of alcohol: 'What am I doing wrong? Why are you treating me like this? How come you don't love me anymore? Can't you see that it's drowning me?

You take a deep breath, calming yourself down a little before opening your eyes to look back up at Bucky with a false smile, "...You know what? Suuure. I'll stay behind. Whatever makes you happy, you fucking asshole!"

After spitting those final venomous words, you shove pass him roughly and storm off into the crowd, no longer caring if anyone heard your little 'lover's quarrel', as they probably all see it as. You have no idea where you're going or what you'll even do in the meantime, but Sharon's house seems big enough, so you're sure you'll have no problem finding someplace quiet to soak in all your self-pity.

Bucky almost calls after you, requiring every ounce of willpower not to chase you and give an apology, but what would that actually accomplish if he did? 'Sorry I hurt your feelings, but I'm still not changing my mind because I stand by what I said'...As if that would fix anything.

Maybe this is for the best, at least that's what he tries to convince himself throughout each second that his guilt eats away at him. For the price of hurting you, you won't be in danger if things go south talking to Nagel. Perhaps you'll even want to go home after this and you'll never have to be at risk because of any of this stuff again. Sure, you'll hate him as you probably do now, but if that's what it takes for you to be alive, then it's worth it.

...It'll be worth this heartache, won't it?

NEXT CHAPTER ->

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@arunabrak,

[sjsmith56]

Making Amends, Chapter 18 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Bucky and Sam deal with Zemo and the Flag Smashers. A cryptic warning has Bucky on edge.

Length: 5.3 K

Characters: Bucky, Sam, Walker, Zemo.

Author notes: I made the decision not to use dialogue from the TV series to avoid copyright issues. As a result, there is a lot of exposition in this chapter which may just seem like a rehashing of the plot from the series. There is some made up dialogue. While you're reading it and you think back to the scene in the series just remember that my dialogue is different.  After this chapter everything will be original plot and dialogue as Bucky takes on the danger threatening Lacey and Tommy.

<<Chapter 17

💉 🚔

The next few weeks were time that Bucky would never get back.  After "helping" Zemo escape custody, then flying to Madripoor to seek out information about the super soldier serum they found themselves on the wrong side of the faction that ran the lawless colony.  A woman in the criminal world in Madripoor gave them the name of the man making the serum, Wilfred Nagel, then was killed herself, which prompted a bounty on their lives, even though they had nothing to do with her death.  Only the appearance of Sharon Carter helped them temporarily out of being killed by the bounty hunters.  Carter, obviously part of the criminal underworld herself, helped them locate Nagel's lab.  He confirmed the existence of the serum, admitted it was formed from a blood sample taken from an unwilling Isaiah Bradley, and that he had created 20 doses.  They knew of eight Flag Smashers who had taken the serum, meaning there were potentially another dozen people that could be or already were transformed. 

It literally blew up in their faces when Zemo killed Nagel, then a bounty hunter sent a rocket into the shipping container where the lab was.  Zemo disappeared while Bucky helped Carter and Sam out of the wreckage.  After helping them dispose of the rest of the bounty hunters Zemo showed up with a car to get them out of there and back to his private jet.  At least they had a name, Donya Madani, a source of inspiration to the Flag Smashers, and a place, Riga, Latvia, to search for the group.

When they arrived in Riga, and Zemo led them to a safe house there, Bucky noticed several kimoyo beads in the vicinity and hung back, knowing the Wakandans were near.  In a quiet street he spoke to Ayo, the Dora Milaje warrior, who gave him 8 hours before she and her squad came for Zemo.  It was long enough for Zemo to find out where the funeral for Donya Madani was being held, and long enough for Sam to try and talk to the leader of the Flag Smashers, Karli Morgenthau.  At least it would have been long enough if John Walker hadn't shown up to arrest Karli.  She escaped in the confusion Walker's appearance caused.  Later when the Dora Milaje came to take Zemo into custody Walker intervened again starting a fight that never should have happened.  In the confusion of that fight Zemo escaped. 

Karli reached out to Sam, via a veiled threat she made to his sister and nephews.  When he and Bucky met with her they realized quickly her true intent was to occupy them while the rest of the Flag Smashers went after Walker and Hoskins.  It was during that fight that Sam realized Walker had somehow taken the super soldier serum.  That was also the fight where Hoskins was killed and Walker retaliated by killing one of the Flag Smashers in front of a crowd of civilians recording on their cell phones, using the shield to do it.  After Walker ran off they followed him to an empty industrial building where both could see the mental turmoil the man was in.  Sam asked for the shield and Walker took it as a threat.  In the ensuing battle between the three Walker tried to kill Sam and Bucky was forced to fight unrestrained against the man who insisted he was still Captain America.  It took breaking Walker's arm to get the shield from him then Bucky picked up the shield and dropped it beside Sam as he lay on the floor, not caring at that point whether Sam picked it up or not as he was done. 

Walker faced a hearing back in the US where he was stripped of his Captain America title as well as his military rank.  Sam returned back to Delacroix after a brief stop in Baltimore, while Bucky stayed in Europe tracking Zemo, fulfilling what he saw as his personal responsibility to return him to custody.  He found him in what was left of Sokovia, at a memorial to the people who died.  Zemo tried to convince him to go after Karli and kill her.  In response, Bucky aimed the pistol at Zemo's head and pulled the trigger.  It clicked instead of firing and Bucky let the bullets fall through his fingers to the ground, emphasizing for all time to Zemo that he wasn't a killer anymore.  The Dora Milaje appeared at that time to escort Zemo to his new home in the Raft, a high security prison located underwater in the Atlantic Ocean.  Just before he left Zemo glanced at Bucky.

"Now that Nagel is dead the Power Broker will be looking for a new scientist and a new source of super soldier blood for the serum," he said, looking intently at Bucky as he stopped.  "You may want to make sure your son and his mother are safe."

Bucky was startled by this warning.  "How did you...," he began.

"I find out things," interrupted Zemo, then glanced at the women warriors, acknowledging they were there for him.

As they walked away Bucky called out.  "Ayo," he said.  "I have a favour to ask of you."

She turned and looked at him as if that was the last thing she wanted to do for him.  "As long as you make yourself scarce in Wakanda for a while," she replied.

He nodded his assent then made his request.  She looked at him intently.  "I will see what I can do," she promised.  "He is a good man so it shouldn't be a problem."

Bucky watched them walk away then pulled his wallet out followed by a business card.  He looked at it for a moment, considering his next action, and dialled the number. 

"Hey, it's Bucky Barnes," he said to the person on the other end of the call.  "I'm in Europe right now but I wonder if I can see you tomorrow or the day after.  I don't want to say anything more on an unsecured line but it's important.  It has to do with Lacey and Tommy.  Thanks, I'll call you when I get to New York."

Two days later Bucky called and met with FBI agent Dan Jones at a coffee kiosk in Greenwich Village.  Bucky asked if he wanted one and after paying for the two coffees walked to a bench away from people.  Jones sat next to him, looking at Bucky intently.

"What's on your mind?" Jones asked Bucky.

"Do you know where Lacey and Tommy are staying now?" queried Bucky.  "I know they aren't with the Bartons anymore."

"I might but I wouldn't tell you," replied Jones.  "You really shit the bed on that relationship."

"You heard," said Bucky tersely.  "I still love her and Tommy, and I care about keeping them safe.  Someone gave me a warning about them.  You ever hear of the Power Broker?"

Jones looked at him in surprise.  "What interest does the Power Broker have in them?" he asked.

"The Power Broker was behind the serum that made the Flag Smashers into super soldiers," said Bucky.  "The man who made the serum for him was killed, and the remainder of the serum was destroyed.  I was warned the Power Broker might be looking for a new source of super soldier blood to make more serum.  He wouldn't come after me because I can defend myself against a room full of people.  Tommy is strong but not strong enough.  If they put a gun to Lacey's head ...."

Jones let out a big breath.  "Jesus, Bucky," he said.  "What do you want me to do?"

"Can you put a detail on them?" asked Bucky.  "Surveillance ... something, anything."

"Okay, I'll come up with something," said Jones.  He hesitated then continued.  "They're doing good, Bucky.  Tommy's in school.  Lacey is working on her fourth book.  For what it's worth I think she still loves you.  She hasn't been dating."

Bucky stood up and drained his coffee, dropping the paper cup in the garbage can next to the bench.  "Thanks, Dan," he replied, smiling grimly.  "I appreciate it.  You have my number.  Let me know if anyone comes after them."

Jones nodded and watched as Bucky walked away.  The revelation that the Power Broker may be interested in Lacey and the boy troubled him.  He pulled his cell phone out and made his own call to ask for a meeting.  He was sure Nick Fury would want to know this development.

Bucky stayed home in Brooklyn for several days researching the location of more people on his list that he had to make amends to.  When he received a shipment from Wakanda, via their embassy in New York, he booked a flight to New Orleans.  There he rented a car and drove to Delacroix.  After asking where he could find Sam Wilson he was directed to a gathering of people on a dock.  He picked Sam out of a group of men gathered near a wrapped engine loaded on the back of a truck.  Putting the case from Wakanda down he picked the engine up and lifted it off the truck, putting it down on the dock.  He looked back at Sam and the other men, smirking at the faces they made.

"It wasn't that heavy," he said, then he picked up the Wakandan case and put it on the truck.  "You needed a new wing suit and I figured the Wakandans could build you a good one so I called in a favour.

At that moment a hose on the boat blew and Sam jumped on the boat to tighten the fastener on the hose.  Bucky could see Sam didn't know much about boats and jumped on beside him, taking the wrench and explaining he had to turn the fastener up to tighten it.  Then he checked out the boat, thinking it reminded him of when he worked on the Brooklyn docks. 

"Can I help?" he offered.  Sam nodded and Bucky noticed a woman watching them, who he assumed was Sam's sister.  He waved at her.  "I'm Bucky."

"Sarah," she replied smiling then turned away, a little flustered.

Sam looked from Bucky to his sister and back again.  "What about Lacey?" he asked.

Bucky made a face.  "I kind of messed things up with her," he replied.  "Your sister seems nice."

"No!" said Sam.  "Don't even think of it."

Bucky gave a cheeky grin then followed Sam to another part of the boat.  For the next few hours he helped with the repairs.  They talked about the Flag Smashers and Bucky told him about Zemo's thoughts on the matter.  As it got close to sunset they stopped to have a beer.  After draining his last one Bucky told Sam he had a flight to take the next day and was going to get a hotel for the night.  Sam, being the man he was asked him to crash at his place as long as Bucky didn't flirt with his sister.  Bucky laughed again, knowing he had made Sam uncomfortable with his mild flirting.  He slept on the couch without any nightmares until he woke up to the sounds of Sarah's boys, A.J. and Cass, play fighting with the shield.  For a time he watched them, a soft smile on his face.

"Good morning," he said to the boys who desperately tried to get the shield back in its cover before running off.

For several moments he lay on the couch before deciding he should get up.  Learning that Sam was already at the dock, Bucky made his way there, finding him working on the engine.   Seeing he needed two sets of hand Bucky helped him with a part, which made Sam stand back and look at him with new eyes.

"Where did you learn about boats?" Sam asked.

"Brooklyn," replied Bucky.  "I worked the docks there after I graduated from high school.  Couldn't afford college until I made some money.  It was still the Depression in 1935."

Sam suggested they work on the water pump so they pulled it apart then began rebuilding it.  Sarah came, looking critically at what they had done and ordered them away from the dock.  She had her no nonsense voice going so both men obeyed and returned to the house where Bucky tried to teach Sam how to throw the shield.  They had a heart to heart talk while they threw it around and Bucky apologized to Sam for getting in his face about giving up the shield.  He explained how the shield was the closest thing he had to a family.  When Sam retired the shield, it made Bucky feel like he had nothing left and was truly alone.  The counsellor in Sam stopped and listened intently as Bucky told him the decision made him question everything about Steve, Sam, and even himself.  It was a humbling experience that Bucky trusted him enough to tell him these things, calmly but with feeling.  Sam asked him about the nightmares and Bucky admitted he still had them.  In his mind they were proof that he was still there, in those situations.  It was also proof, in his mind, that the Winter Soldier was still in him.  He coloured for a moment then opened up even more.

"That's why I left Lacey," he said emotionally.  "We were right in the middle of amazing sex and I had a vision of the Winter Soldier tying her up and doing terrible things to her.  I pulled out, took the condom off and left her in her bed.  I hid out on the farm until Steve found me in the morning and I asked him if we could leave.  I was afraid of hurting her physically, Sam.  Instead I broke her heart and I don't think she'll ever forgive me for that.  Tommy spit on me.  That's how much I hurt him by it."

Bucky turned away, coughed and wiped his eyes trying not to break down.  Sam watched for a moment then put his hand on Bucky's shoulder in commiseration. 

"I'm sorry," he said.  "That had to be tough for you to do."

"Well, it's done," shrugged Bucky.  "If you have any advice on that or my other issues I'd appreciate it."

"This making amends, is it part of your conditional pardon?" asked Sam.  Bucky nodded.  "Well making amends is more than just saying sorry.  It might make you feel better but it does nothing for the families of your ... sorry, the Soldier's victims."

"It wasn't just that," replied Bucky.  "I know that there isn't anyone from HYDRA who will make amends to them.  Part of me still feels responsible so I accepted the task.  I've already identified and helped arrest several people who benefitted from HYDRA's and the Soldier's actions."

"Yeah, and that was good but that was just stopping the bad guys from getting away with it.  Some people, especially the surviving family need to know what went down, how their loved one died.  Only you can tell them."

"There's a lot of those," said Bucky, somewhat despondently.

"Okay, all it takes is one to start the healing," replied Sam.  "That will be the hardest one.  The next one won't be quite so hard.  You'll give them closure and perhaps in the process you can forgive yourself along the way.  For what it's worth, I don't think it was fair to put this all on you.  You were their victim as well and no one has made amends to you, have they?"

Bucky considered his words then looked at Sam appraisingly. "You're not bad at this counsellor stuff," he stated.  "I'll never get an apology for what I went through but I can deal with it.  Maybe not well, or quickly, but I will."

Sam smiled and nodded.  They both stepped towards each other, sharing a pound hug, and Bucky asked Sam to call him when he had a lead on Karli Morgenthau.  Bucky turned away to walk to his rental car, then turned back to Sam.

"What about Lacey?" he asked loudly.  "How do I fix that?"

"A lot of grovelling," suggested Sam.  "I haven't had a girlfriend in over 5 years so you're going to have to figure that one out on your own.  She is the mother of your son so she's worth it."

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed. 

A few hours later he was back in Brooklyn.  On the way to his flat he passed a bookstore and on impulse went inside where he noticed they had a display of women authors.  They had Lacey's second book and her third.  He smiled softly when he saw the title of the third, His Blue Eyes.  It was published during the Blip, when no one knew the decimated would return someday.  Set in a 2018 that didn't experience the Blip, it told of a chance encounter between a woman writer and a man who had to go into hiding.  The ripples from their encounter affected the lives of their friends and colleagues.   It also explored the long distance relationship they had until an act of heroism changed their lives forever.  The dedication page was emotional for Bucky.

For B.  There will be never be another like you.  You gave me the greatest gift.

L.C.C.  December, 2021

As he paid for it the clerk looked at him strangely, noticing his blue eyes, then recognizing him when he saw the artificial hand. 

"You're Bucky Barnes," he said.  "I've read this book.  You don't strike me as the type of guy who would read something like this."

Bucky looked at him calmly.  "I know the author," he replied.  "I have her other books, including her first one, written under a different name."

"It's a good book," said the clerk.  "Most people think it's a typical romance novel but there's a lot more in it, about longing for someone who is out of reach.  There's a sense of loneliness to it, of being held hostage by fate and circumstance, things they had no control over.  I also liked all the ripples their initial meeting created, changing the lives of people close to them.  I've heard rumours of a possible movie."

Bucky smiled kindly at him.  "I'm sure she'll be thrilled with that," he stated, then picked up the book and nodded at the clerk before leaving. 

It took him two days to read it and when he finished he knew it was about them, even though she changed all of the circumstances, and the character's names and back stories.  The book store clerk was right about it being more than a romance novel.  Lacey captured the sense of longing felt by both characters, even though they attempted to carry on with their lives.  The side stories described the effect their encounter had on their circle of friends exploring the inter-connectivity between people.  The biggest difference, of course, was the main male character in the book stayed dead after his act of heroism whereas Bucky came back.  He was surprised to find the second part of the book explored how the main female character Lauren ended up with a different man but the more he thought about it the more sense it made.  His own initial advice to Lacey had been to find a good man and take a chance on love with him.  If he never came back from the Blip he wished she would have found someone, a good man, to live her life with.

While he waited to hear from Sam he set about tackling his list of names in the little notebook.  It was hard, especially to the families of those he had killed.  Some threatened to kill him, some to sue him, but he left their homes knowing he had given them an answer.  One woman's response surprised him with its unexpected emotion.  His victim's daughter had let out a visible breath when he told her what he had done to her father then looked at her hands before talking.

"My dad wasn't the best man," she said calmly as she sat in a chair across from him, looking at him intently.  "He had issues, and he raised his hand to my mom and me more than once.  We suspected he was involved in something shady so when his body was found we weren't surprised.  Surprisingly, he had a life insurance policy and the money helped both me and my mother to start over.  I was able to go to college.  She was able to enjoy a comfortable life until she died of cancer."  She turned to Bucky.  "I know what you're doing because I've been in therapy for this love – hate relationship I still have with my dad.  I hope you find the closure you're looking for but I won't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive.  Instead I thank you for killing him and freeing us from a lifetime of abuse.  I truly believe he would have killed one or both of us if he had lived."

Several days after meeting with that woman he heard from Sam that the likely target of the Flag Smashers was the GRC council, meeting in New York later that evening.  Bucky promised to meet him at the location and hurried back to his flat to change.  When he arrived at the site of the meeting he was allowed in through the security perimeter.  Apparently he was already known as an Avenger.  A person did challenge him, then removed a nano mask, revealing Sharon Carter's face.  She offered her help and together they went closer to the building where the GRC council was being evacuated.  Sam told them to keep people in the building as he realized the Flag Smashers wanted them outside and exposed.  As Bucky walked, a woman with a security ID gave him a phone, saying it was Karli.  He looked at the screen and was puzzled that the call came on a phone app, not through the cell phone itself.

It was Karli on the other end and she tried to convince him to join her.  He tried to convince her that she was going about things the wrong way by pointing out that all this death she was causing wouldn't make the nightmares go away because she would remember everyone she killed.  Once more he asked her not to do this but she laughed lightly and told him not to get involved.  When he pointed out he already was she laughed again and thanked him for his time.  She hung up making Bucky realize she had been delaying him from intervening.  He ran to the parking garage and took a motor bike, hoping he could catch up to the transports the council members were obviously on.  It took several blocks but he saw the vehicles stopped at a barrier and several Flag Smashers gathering between them.  Pressing on the accelerator he aimed the motor bike at the barrier, then applied the front brakes causing the back wheel to come up.  He flew over the barrier, flying into the chest of the biggest man the Flag Smashers had, knocking them both away from the others.  While he fought him he noticed the others set fire to one of the vehicles and quickly disabled the man he was fighting with.  Running to the vehicle he pulled on the handle, trying to force open the door.  Noticing an extra lock on the door Bucky hit it with all of his might several times, eventually breaking it.  Then he pulled on the door handle again and it finally gave way.  He helped the people out, telling them to go.  The last man stopped and thanked Bucky for saving them, a sentiment that caught him by surprise.

Turning he saw several Flag Smashers beating a man who was on the ground and realized it was John Walker.  Running towards them he saw one about to hit him with a parking meter and launched himself into the man.  Another Flag Smasher came at him and he recognized Karli's hair.  Grabbing a piece of chain that was within reach he hit her with it but she shook it off and kicked him, sending him over a barrier and down several stories to the ground.  As he looked up he saw another one jumping towards him holding a steel beam as a weapon.  Raising his vibranium arm it took the brunt of the hit then he grabbed the steel beam and tore it from the other guy's hands.  He hit him several times until the man didn't get up again.  A sound from above made him look up and he saw the other vehicle teetering at the edge of the structure, slowly breaking through the beams that were supporting it.  Knowing he couldn't stop it he watched helplessly until it suddenly began to inch backwards and he realized that someone, hopefully Walker, was trying to keep it from falling.  When Walker suddenly fell, with two Flag Smashers hanging on to him, the vehicle began breaking through the structure again.  Only this time, it was stopped as Sam and his new suit had the strength to keep it from falling.  Pulling Walker out the way Bucky watched in awe as Sam was able to push it back up to safety at the top of the structure.  He could hear people cheering above as Sam hovered over the scene and knew they had accepted him as Captain America.

A sound from behind him made him turn in time to intercept a metal bar thrown to kill him by Karli.  She attacked Bucky but was hit by the shield as Sam descended into the space.  Suddenly smoke bombs were shot into their midst and they lost sight of her.  Sam looked around then turned to the other two yelling to follow him while he ran into the smoke.  As they ran through a tunnel Sam's display showed that the three Flag Smashers had split up.  Bucky and Walker took the path of two of them while Sam continued following the one.  Their path quickly petered out and Bucky led Walker through the maze of construction then back out into the open. 

"Shit," swore Walker.  "What now, Bucky?"

Bucky took the phone out that the security person gave him.  "I have an idea," he said.  "They have an app.  Maybe I can lure them here."

Quickly he opened the app and smiled when it showed him everyone else who had the app.  He entered a message then they both stood back and waited to see who showed up.  Within minutes three figures came out from the construction site, stopping when they saw the other two men.  Walker quoted Abraham Lincoln with a smile, impressed at Bucky's improvisation.  Bucky held the phone up to the three Flag Smashers, commenting on the app as sirens and flashing lights heralded the arrival of the police.   They were surrounded by a heavily armed tactical squad and the three Flag Smashers were taken into custody.

Together Walker and Bucky walked towards where several ambulances had been parked.  As they walked in between they saw Sam fly in carrying the lifeless body of Karli Morgenthau.  The media were throwing questions at Sam but he just ignored them, instead facing the people on the GRC council who were still there.  Bucky watched as Sam challenged every one of their decisions which he believed had set off the time bomb of the Flag Smashers movement.  Then he laid it all on the line, telling them they had no right to make decisions for billions of people without having them represented.  It was inspiring stuff.  After when Sam approached him Bucky pretended he had been texting the entire time which made Sam laugh.  In Bucky's mind, the shield was now in good hands and he left with Carter to get her some medical attention feeling pretty good about what they had prevented.

Back in his neighbourhood later Bucky found himself outside where Yori Nakajima lived.  For some time he stared at the building entrance from the sidewalk then he went up the steps and up to the floor where Yori lived.  Slowly he walked to the old man's door and knocked.  Yori was surprised to see him as it wasn't Wednesday, their usual day to spend together but still invited him in, asking what Bucky wanted.

Sombrely Bucky told him it was about the murder of Yori's son, RJ.  He told him the Winter Soldier had been responsible for it and that he, Bucky, had been the Winter Soldier.  His voice was shaking as he said it and the old man looked at him with hurt confusion on his face then asked why.  All Bucky could offer was that he didn't have a choice and the old man's face suddenly displayed all the grief he had held inside for so long.  He looked away from Bucky then stood up and walked to the shrine he had dedicated to his son, saying nothing.  With sadness Bucky stood up and went to the door, looking at the broken man he had just hurt all over again.  There was nothing further he could do for Yori; no condolences, no support, nothing he could ever say would help the sweet old man who had been his friend. 

That night Bucky broke into Dr. Raynor's office and left her a gift bag with a note thanking her for all of her help.  Inside the bag was his notebook with every name inside crossed off.  Then he went home and opened the new notebook he bought and wrote in two names that he still had to atone to.  Lacey Chapman and Tommy Chapman.  He didn't put their names in the first book because they weren't victims of the Winter Soldier.  Their pain was all on him, James Buchanan Barnes, and even if it took years he would find a way to make up for what he did to them.  Maybe, just maybe they could forgive him.  The following day he walked past the sushi bar and saw Yori sitting at the counter while Leah poured his sake.  She looked at Bucky through the window but said nothing and he wondered if Yori told her about the confession.  Subtly he nodded his head and took a breath before continuing on his way.  He stopped in front of his building then turned and looked around the neighbourhood.  It had been somewhat familiar to him when he first got the flat but it wasn't home anymore.  He could see that now.  Home was where he would be welcomed and he knew it was somewhere else.

*****************

If you wish to read Lacey's book His Blue Eyes, it is fully published on Wattpad, under my user name SJSmith56.  I hope you find it entertaining as Lacey used all the people she had come in contact with while she was pregnant and raising Tommy on her own as inspiration for many of the characters in the book she wrote after Bucky was turned to dust in the Blip.  It has attracted some other readership already.

Chapter 19>>

Series Masterlist

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[mads-weasley]

Legacy Pt. 7: Broken Promises

tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: HI!!! It's been soooo long since I added to this series...and I mean like a YEAR long. Sorry to all my wonderful followers who were waiting on this update. Life got crazy and this series got pushed to the bottom of the barrel, but the good news is... LEGACY IS BACK, BABY!! And as always, I don't own any characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: While (y/n) was recuperating at Sharon's, Bucky makes a decision and breaks a promise he made to her, putting strain on their newly labeled relationship.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, sibling death, car accidents (not graphic), drunk drivers, just sad

When we finally got to Sharon's building, Bucky helped guide me through her art gallery. As usual, he and Sam were bickering about the paintings that filled her showroom, but I tuned them out. Bucky's arm around my frame was the only thing keeping me from falling over right there. I heard Sharon quickly cut them off.

"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour."

"Alright, alright," Bucky starts. "Where can I take (y/n)?"

She gestures to follow her with a jerk of her head. "This way."

Following her into a nearby room, my eyes widen at the size of it and what it contains. There are multiple couches, a full bar, and a rack full of formal clothes; designer, I assume. Buck seems to be surprised too but soon breaks out of his stupor, guiding me to lie down on the couch. Even though my headache is very slowly going away, I still feel like I could pass out if I didn't get to sleep soon. 

Gently, he crouched down in front of me.

"How're ya feeling, doll?"

"I'm okay, just super tired. At least my headache is going away, though." I say softly.

He starts to lightly rub my hand that rested on my thigh. "Good. Get some rest, okay? I'll come get you when we have a lead."

"Okay. Thanks, boomer."

The laugh that escaped him made my heart flutter. After a few seconds, he got up and grabbed a blanket and pillow from another one of the couches before returning and placing it behind my head. Once I was comfortable, he draped the soft blanket over my body. As I started to snuggle into it with closed eyes, a soft smile grew on Bucky's face. 

~

Bucky silently watched (y/n) start to doze off, and he was so thankful that he had her in his life. Even though she felt terrible, she accompanied him to Selby's just to make sure he was okay. No one had put him first for as long as he could remember. At one point he thought Steve would have always done so, but even he abandoned him in the end. Sharon's piercing voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Bucky. You need to get dressed." She said, gesturing to the coat rack Sam had gotten his outfit from.

He nodded, looking back at (y/n). Although he didn't want to leave her, he knew they needed to follow this lead if they were going to stop the flag smashers. Leaning down and kissing her on the forehead, he whispered something to her. She shifted positions and whispered something back, but it was really just a sleepy slur of words. Bucky felt his heart melt as Sharon once again called out to him.

Frustrated, he crossed the room looking through the rack. There were some very, well, interesting outfits on it, but he decided to stick with a basic black suit. Slipping it on, Sharon continued to talk.

"So what happened to (y/n)?"

He sighed, "The flag smashers. That's what happened."

Raising an eyebrow, she asked the question Bucky had been waiting on. "When did you two start...whatever you've got going?"

"Few days ago." He says before walking away to sit on the couch next to the one (y/n) was laying on. 

Luckily for him, Sharon started talking to Sam, giving him a break from her questioning. Their conversation soon led to her explaining that she had a way to find Wilfred Nagel, the doctor who Selby had given up. He too, worked to the Power Broker that neither Sam or Bucky knew much about. 

Soon after, Sharon's guests arrived and they were led out into the "client showing" she was hosting, which was more like a rave. The music began to blare and Bucky hoped that (y/n) was still asleep, unbothered by the electronic sounds. He was reminded of Zemo's existence when he saw him pumping his fist at his side to the beat of the music next to the bar. With a scoff, Bucky turned away from the unique sight when Sharon tapped him and Sam.

"Hey, guys. I found him."

As they began to follow her, his promise to (y/n) that he would come to get her if they had a lead, floated in his head. Even though he did promise her, he knew she needed the rest. Things had been non-stop for her, and with her injuries, she really should be on bed rest if not in the hospital. Even though he knew she would be mad when she woke, he decided to leave her be on Sharon's couch.

Peeking her eyes open, (y/n) was met with Bucky's smiling face before her, shaking her gently.

"Time to get up, doll. We've got a lead."

(Y/n) blearily looked around her, noticing she was still on the couch in Sharon's apartment. The main difference, though, was that daylight shone through the curtains, illuminating the once-dark room.

"Buck, what time is it?"

He sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. "It's morning. I know you needed it, so I let you sleep."

"Wait," she paused, a look of betrayal on her face. "Did you follow a lead without me?"

"(Y/n), sweetheart, liste-" he started, but was cut off.

"Don't "sweetheart" me, James. You told me you'd come to get me if you found out anything."

Sitting up abruptly, her hand shot to her temple, wincing at the sudden movement. Instinctively, Bucky lurched forward towards her, offering his help, only to have it batted away.

"I'm fine. Let's just go."

Before he could protest, she got up and started walking out of the room. Bucky had to force his eyes away from the way her hips swayed in the dress she still wore. Sighing, he got up off the couch and followed after her.

"You might want to change into something more comfortable!"

"Danya Madani. She's a refugee, yeah," Sam spoke, on the phone with Joaquin. "Okay. Call me if you get a hit. Thanks, Torres."

He plopped into the plane seat with a sigh. (Y/n) could tell all of this was starting to weigh on him.

"You okay?" She asked, eyeing Sam from where she sat, refusing to look where Bucky sat cleaning his arm.

Sam turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through."

"Yeah," the woman whispered, thinking about what they all went through on the run.

Bucky and Sam continued the conversation, but (y/n) couldn't stop a particularly hard memory from resurfacing.

Germany, 2018

"How much?" (Y/n) asks in German, holding an apple at a local market. The bright fruits and smells of freshly baked bread brought her a sense of home she hadn't felt for a while. Her basket was full as she made her way back to her, Sam, and Steve's temporary apartment. After traveling around Europe, they finally came back to Germany for a short stint.

Unlocking the door, she threw her keys on the kitchen island before placing the basket on the counter and placing its contents in the cabinets.

"I got a good deal on some oranges. Sam, I know how much you love to make fresh squee-"

"(Y/n)," Steve interrupted softly, approaching her slowly. She was no telepath, but she could tell something was majorly wrong by his tone alone.

Tears involuntarily filled her eyes in anticipation. "What is it?"

"It's your sister, Sophia," he whispered, holding your arm gently. "She was in an accident. She didn't make it, (y/n). I'm so sorry."

She heard his words but they wouldn't register in her mind. Sophia? Accident? Didn't make it?

"What?" The woman croaked, feeling her heart clench as the words began to process in her mind.

"Sam got a call from a friend. She was hit by a drunk driver. It was instant."

Looking over his shoulder, she noticed sam for the first time. He was leaning against the doorway with a somber and sorrow-filled expression.

"She can't be gone," she paused, shaking her head. "She's supposed to graduate next month."

Just as the first sob escaped her lips, Steve pulled her into his arms, taking all her weight when her legs failed to hold her up.

"I'm so sorry, (y/n/n). I'm so sorry."

Sam was able to find out the date of Sophia's funeral, so they could at least watch from a distance. Although it was a hassle to get an inconspicuous flight back to the states, they were more than willing to do it for (y/n).

When the time came, the trio watched from afar with heavy hearts as the 18-year-old Sophia (y/l/n) was buried, her sister unable to grieve with the rest of their family. Being so close to her loved ones, (y/n) was tempted to run to them, pull them into a loving embrace, and talk about all the good times they had with their beloved Soph.

As soon as the service was over, Sam and Steve went to the car, leaving her to grieve alone. Even though she felt like crying and screaming at the world for taking her sister from her, all that poured out of her was a single tear.

(Y/n) was thankfully pulled from her memory when Bucky gently rubbed her knee, leaning forward in his chair.

"You alright, doll?"

Blinking, she realized a tear had leaked from her eye. She wiped it away quickly, clearing her throat. "Yeah. Just thinking."

He moved his hand to hold hers gently. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Remembering she was upset at him, her emotions hardened and she pulled her hand from his. "Just how you lied to me, James."

"Please, (y/n/n)," he sighed "When will you believe me when I say I'm sorry?"

"When you include me, no matter what is happening, and regardless of how we feel about each other."

With a nod and a soft, "yeah," he leaned back into his chair just as Sam's phone began to vibrate.

(Y/n) was lucky she changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt before they left, or she was sure he'd be able to see goosebumps that littered her skin from his touch.

"They found Madani," Sam announced mournfully. "Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea."

An all too familiar accent made an appearance, "I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face-to-face with Karli."

(Y/n) scoffed, recalling the damage Karli had done to her when they'd first met. The thought seemed to awaken the deep ache in her bones, especially her arm, in which she had not been following the doctor's orders and wearing a sling.

Sensing this, Bucky leaned forward again. "How're you feeling? Need any pain meds?"

Although she could've used some, the (y/h/c) shook her head. "I'm good."

She could tell he didn't fully believe her but didn't push the subject either.

"Ozenik," Zemo called. "We're changing the course."

Tag List:

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[spectralarchers]

made from these wicked things

by spectralarchers

Summary:

Barney Barton is the older brother of Avenger Clint Barton. That's about all his file says, and what the other Avengers and SHIELD agents know about him. But who is Barney Barton and why is it that Hawkeye refuses to speak about his older brother when prompted? Well, maybe it's easier to look at the story from Barney's perspective to understand that specific dynamic. After all, it isn't easy being overshadowed by your younger brother.

*'*'*

Words: 51855 | Chapters: 19/19 | Language: English | Published: 2022-11-05 | Completed: 2022-12-01

*'*'*

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616

Relationships: Barney Barton & Clint Barton

Characters: Barney Barton, Clint Barton, Everett Ross, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, Yelena Belova, Antalya, Helmut Zemo, Wilfred Nagel, Carol Danvers (cameo), Laura Barton, Cooper Barton, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Lucky (Hawkeye), Lester | Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter, Hank Pym, Nick Fury, Melinda May, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill (briefly), Wolfgang von Strucker, Jessica Drew, Jasper Sitwell, Ayo (Marvel), Monica Rambeau, Thaddeus Ross

Additional Tags: NaNoWriMo 2022, Barney Barton needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Where was Barney Barton?

*'*'*

I hope you enjoy this story of where has Barney Barton been in the MCU. There's a secret plotline revolving around a side character which does not appear in the tags or character tags for the sake of a surprise for comic book fans ;)

[lamentingwclf]

                            On the Winter Soldier

The longstanding belief that Bucky is the weakest of the candidates produced by the Winter Soldier Program is in fact valid. But it stands to question: Why.

His serum was experimentation.

Bucky was a test subject for Arnim Zola to recreated Abraham Erskine's Super Soldier Serum; and likely not the only one. The fact that his was successful at all was likely a sheer accident, and it was only dumb luck it activated at a time to ultimately save his life when he fell from the train. While all the serums created subsequently by Howard Stark, Bruce Banner, and Wilfred Nagel are similar, each strain is different, and imperfect in their own ways. It was Howard's that was used to create the others.

The serum enhances existing abilities.

Bucky's individual strengths and skills were already preexisting and enhanced by this experimentation, and it his Shuri's own hypothesis that there are still latent abilities that are currently dormant from his exposure to the tesseract. So it stands to reason the other's preexisting skills and abilities were also simply enhanced.

But ultimately, Bucky still exists

Bucky is the only candidate of the program that is not there because of his own volition. The others were an elite death squad recruited once Howard's serum was in their possession. Human nature is a strange and beautiful force to reckon with. Steve's ability to break through the brain washing, and later confirmed by Bucky himself for his ability to remember every kill he made, lays the foundation for the argument he was still a very real, present, victim in his mind. It took years to finally break him, and years to perfect their control over him; but it does not mean Bucky ever really stopped fighting. The weakness of The Winter Soldier is self dampening behavior masked as a muzzle for control.

[spottedly]

Avengers Superpower Ideas

these are just random ideas that came to me after finally watching TFATWS and Moon Knight and refreshing on older MCU stuff (but pls don't come for me if some of these don't match any story lines or seem consistent with how some Avengers got their powers, i'm just spitballing here because these ideas sounded cool in my head)

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

|| Subzero Super Soldier ||

-so for this one, i thought it would be interesting to reimagine Hydra's Winter Soldier Program (i called it subzero super soldier because subzero temperatures are colder, but you probably already knew that, just wanted to point it out)

-what if they found a child just wondering around on the streets lost and alone and decided to use them as their first test subject (you can come up with a reason for why the child was by themselves, but i personally had some sort of dark, twisted childhood in mind)

-now the most well known method used on Bucky Barnes was 10 trigger words, but what if they couldn't find any that worked on the child after injecting the serum (since this would be their first trial experiment) and decided to go for a more generic mind control technique

-i was reminded of the Disney show Lab Rats when i got the idea that they'd try surgically implanting microchips all over the child's body to be able to physically control them with special devices they made to "activate" the super soldier mode and the microchips would also be able to administer electric shocks that brainwashed them before and after each mission Hydra sent them on

-and because their first super soldier was so young and innocent looking, they could slip past everyone's defenses and blend in a lot easier, so they were essentially Hydra's star pupil

-now over the years, Hydra found ways to "upgrade" the microchips to make the super soldier fully functional to their needs

-so installing camera systems into their eyes so they could watch live feed of the child on missions and also allowing them to use their eyes as literal cameras to see really far and take pictures and videos and even project them and see in night and heat vision

-giving them an advanced auditory system in their ears so they could be hyper aware of their surroundings and never caught off guard

-even enhancing their sense of smell so they'd be able to track down targets

-and programming the mircrochips connected to their brain to enhance their abilities so photographic memory, increased intelligence, and stuff like that

-now when Hydra's death squad was given Howard Stark's serum and they saw what it did to them, they were curious what it would do to the child since they had more control over them than they did the other super soldiers

-it essentially made their abilities max out, so the generic enhanced super strength and speed and reflexes (kind of like what shimmer did to Jinx for those of you that have seen Arcane)

-let's skip ahead a little bit and say they were able to escape which allowed them to age a little bit without the cryogenetic sleep chambers and fast forward to TFATWS when they encountered the new serum that had finally been perfected by Hydra scientist Wilfred Nagel

-for the sake of plot, let's just say he had a hidden vial of the serum with him and stabbed them with it

-the most super soldier serum seems to do is enhance physical strength, but since they already had all of that, i had the idea to have the serum give them other kinds of enhancements

-instantaneous regeneration, hyper speed, complete tolerance to pain (so they can't feel any kind of physical pain), and i thought it'd be cool to add the cherry on top of the generic glowing eyes and nails sharpened into claws to give a semi-mutant look

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

|| Kindred Spirits ||

-this was heavily inspired by Moon Knight (for those of you that have seen it and know how his powers work)

-the concept for this power is essentially being temporarily gifted supernatural abilities by powerful gods, so i got the idea to do that for constellations

-so the person can call upon any constellation and be given powers related to that (scorpious, pavo, aries, cetus, aquarius, ophiuchus, volans, cancer, taurus, delphinus, capricorn, cygnus, aquila, tucana, sagittarius, leo, pisces, libra, lupus, pegasus, leo, serpens, vulpecula, gemini, apus, draco, virgo, orion, lacerta, lynx, lepus, corvus)

-if they wanted to, they could also call upon constellations that aren't related to animals or people (sagitta, eridanus, circinus)

-and they're able to use multiple constellations at a time, combining abilities

-they have complete creative control over how it looks (friendly or demonic) and the size and how they administer the power

-Eris from Sinbad is a good example to look at

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

|| Rumination ||

-i came up with this after thinking about the infinity stones and Wanda Maximoff's powers

-so we know that the infinity stones were created by the Big Bang and spread across the universe

-i thought it would be interesting for one of the stones to be intercepted by someone (i guess technically a space being on a foreign planet)

-i wanted that stone to be the soul stone

-some sort of tragedy could've happened to this person that attracted the soul stone to them since a sacrifice is required to obtain it

-something like their entire planet getting annihilated or just something that left them so ridden with depression and grief that they were not only able to wield the soul stone, but completely absorb it and have it become a part of them since whatever caused them agony basically ruled over their life and didn't allow them to heal and move on

-so they now have all the power of the soul stone

-your generic immense super strength/telekinesis

-they can manipulate their own essence to allow themselves to live longer but can also manipulate the essence of others and end their lives abruptly and even bring back a dead soul at the cost of giving up a portion of their own essence

-a pocket dimension where souls can be banished

-they can conjure up the essence of dead souls and use them as an undead army

-they can possess living souls and even transform them to their liking (like turn them into mutants i guess)

-they're able to connect their essence to another person's and telepathically communicate with them and even switch povs with them

-they can transmigrate souls between other living things (other people, animals, etc)

-they can access memories of an essence and conjure up nightmares and demons significant to their worst traumas (but also do the opposite and provide soothing angels and dreams)

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

that was really all i had, but i think the concepts are really cool and could be expanded upon by people who are way more knowledgeable than i am in the deep lore of the MCU, but thank you for coming to my TED talk ._.

[ao3feed-sambucky]

Flawed Perfection

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/44140524

by Squigglyhopper

Bucky Barnes has a lot to contend with in the 21st century. One difficult task after another is laid out in front of him: managing his new found freedom, attending therapy and working through his trauma. It's a struggle, but recovery is not a straight line, as his therapist so often likes to remind him.

He has to navigate this friendship / relationship / whatever it is with Sam all the while managing his guilt and shame for his years as the Winter Soldier, and his grief over Steve's death. Then of course there’s these new super soldiers that have appeared out of nowhere that have to be dealt with, along with the frustrating inclusion of new faces, like Walker, and the familiar, like Zemo.

And then there is another task, one that sometimes seems to be the most difficult task of all: learning to be kind to his past self.

Rewrite / fix it of TFATWS – you do not need to read the other parts of this series, this works as a standalone. Pre TFATWS to about three months after the series ends. Not just a rehash of the TV series. Entire story is written, will update fortnightly, perhaps more frequently.

Words: 4165, Chapters: 1/52, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of The Trials and Tribulations of James Bucky Barnes

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Christina Raynor, Helmut Zemo, John Walker (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, Wilfred Nagel, Sharon Carter (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Arnim Zola, Peggy Carter, Aleksander Lukin, Johann Fennhoff, Howard Stark

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Past Sexual Abuse, Therapy, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Oh my god there is so much therapy, Sam Wilson is So Done, Captain America Sam Wilson, Sam is not Bucky's therapist and I swear sometimes he wants to shake Bucky so hard, Bucky adores Sam by the end I promise, Sam has boundaries, Past Riley/Sam Wilson, Bucky and Steve were like brothers, Self-Esteem Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Smoking, Grief/Mourning, Steve Rogers is dead I'm so sorry, Not Peggy Carter Friendly, Suicidal Thoughts, Please see A/N for more detailed content warnings

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/44140524

[little-blog-of-horrors]

"To make a better Soldier, we must look at why the original model failed. Memory. It is a powerful driving force! Life experience that makes someone who they are, at their core, memory is what makes someone human. So how do we combat this? A completely clean slate. No memories, no life experience. All that is known is the order. The fight, and the duty programed from the moment their life begins! This revelation, is why I will succeed where the good doctor Wilfred Nagel, failed."

-Doctor Johan Voss. Hydra lead geneticist. Creator of Project Prodigy.

[emptymidnight]

One of my favourite Bucky scenes in TFATWS. Plus I think Nagel was great so I’m squeezing him in ♥️

[sagegarnish]

Lots of thoughts about Bucky with a gun

[redstarbonky]

a breakdown of zemo reacting to dr. nagel, or, >:3 face versus :| face

!!!this post is packed with spoilers!!!

we all know by now that zemo tends to wear his villainous >:3 face while interacting with sam and bucky. it's the face of a dude who's not very stressed out! but this expression goes away during the encounter with dr. nagel. in fact, the whole gadfly personality melts away like it was never there.

so here's a BUNCH OF WORDS ABOUT IT while MAXING OUT THE NUMBER OF PICTURES I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE PER POST

tagging @h-zemo because...*vague zemo gestures*

in the dockyard scene, zemo is the first to poke around enough to discover the secret door to nagel's lab. he's a man on a mission...and notably, sharon and the lads have elected not to give him a weapon

in this image he is looking at nagel, who is unaware of his presence. this is the face he wore through most of CA:CW, when he was mostly thinking about how superpeople destroyed his entire country and got his family killed, and how that is all the fault of captain america (sort of), the serum's first and most dramatic success

zemo doesn't even want superpeople to exist. you can imagine what he would think of the continued existence of the serum itself, let alone a person who knows how to make it

not coincidentally, he has this expression the entire time they're dealing with nagel. this is the face of desire to murder

sam has taken nagel gently hostage (sam is good ok?) and 'introduced' him: "this is baron zemo. i know you've heard of him, too, right?" zemo just looks like this and doesn't say anything...

nagel avoided looking right at bucky after initially seeing him (probably thinking that that's the winter soldier, likely known to the world after CA:CW as a dangerous person, an assassin, a terrorist). but he does stop to make eye contact with zemo before sam pushes him along.

in what capacity has nagel heard of zemo? the aftermath of the events of CA:CW? has zemo tried to kill nagel before? i don't want to read too much into the glance here, it can be read as straightforward simmering anger at the intrusion. but nagel looked pretty intently at zemo for the half-second he was allowed to. contrast to sam, whom he barked at immediately, and bucky, who made him freeze on the spot

i don't believe nagel is anything more than a plot point, especially because he's dead by the end of the scene. but would i be surprised if zemo had looked for nagel before? not at all

as sam leads nagel out of the work area, zemo follows...(bonus handsome sam profile in blur-o-vision, you're welcome)

and when bucky subtly threatens nagel with a shot that should have deafened all of them but hey it's television, sam flinches, but zemo just looks dispassionately

like this pic doesn't need to be a gif. he doesn't flinch, he doesn't move his eyes, he's just looking

then he wanders around and looks for a...let's call it 'security system.' because as mentioned before, sharon & co. chose not to give him a weapon. he finds it under the lab table. i believe this gun is what nagel was likely going for when telling sam to gtfo of his lab and starting to leave his work area. zemo was part of a kill squad. he probably knows common hiding places for weapons

zemo casually walks back out, looks at nagel, and seems conveniently positioned to fire the chekhov's gun in his left hand

(btw i don't believe for a second that there's no serum in the lab. i think nagel is just lying, badly, and banking on the three of them having no idea what the finished serum looks like. THEY ARE LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY BLUE VIALS FFS anyway getting off-topic 😶)

then sharon bursts in to tell them they need to hurry up, and zemo takes advantage of the distraction to shoot nagel dead

he has pretty much the same expression when sam and sharon pin him (sam even yells "NO!" for the illicit chemist because he's a grade-A good guy, while bucky wanders around short-circuiting. seriously watch that part again it's hilarious. he's "???😐????" while everyone else is ">:OOO")

we don't clearly see zemo's face again until after he's escaped the burning lab, blown up several dudes, and taken off his thanos cosplay/stunt double face hider/bank robber mask

with a serum creator and a serum lab totally obliterated, the >:3 expression returns, and he's back to his normal, quietly ridiculous, vintage car otaku self.

it's not even just that zemo is pissed off throughout the scene - he's tense. when his >:3 face comes back, it's because he's not stressed anymore!

big ups to daniel brühl for this piece of interesting acting, i'm sorry it COMPLETELY went over my head until i rewatched the episode

[jodetesuciaperra]

One connection i made between Black Widow and Falcon and The Winter Soldier is how USA and Russia treated their respective super soldiers: Isaiah Bradley and Alexei Shostakov.

Isaiah was put in prison for 30 years from 1950 to 1980 and would have been more, until a nurse help him by faking his death.

Alexei was put in prison, but we don't know when or why exactly, the line Alexei gives was "He [Dreykov] puts me in prison for the rest of my life." until Natasha and Yelena save him.

The main diference would be that with Isaiah, scientists experimented with him, in his words "trying to figure out why the serum worked" while with Alexei, he was left alone as he said "Soviet Union's first and only super soldier.", this can be because of the Winter Soldier program, which was a failure, the new subjects became aggresive and mentally unstable, the only successful one was Barnes, this would have deemed the search for a sucessful supersoldier serum something very difficult and not worthy.

Then comes Dr Nagel, his words "I was brought into Hydra's Winter Soldier Program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia, when hydra fell, i was recruited by the CIA, they had blood samples from an american test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. after much labor. i was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood [...] I did what not other scientist was able to do"

So i think the reason why they didn't experiment with Alexeis was because too much cost and little reward, the scientists of the US Government and Hydra experimented with Isaiah for 30 years, even with that, Nagel needed much more time to finally replicate and perfect the serum, so i can see why abandon the project and focus in others programs, like the Black Widow program (or Red Room).

This started as a fun, maybe reaching connection between Black Widow and Falcon and The Winter Soldier, but later turned into this, which...i love the MCU and i always look for a reason to talk about it.