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mrs-elsie-barnes · 9 months

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The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 12

Black White and Midnight Blue | Loki x Reader

You and Loki repay your debt to the Avengers by attending Baron Zemo's exclusive Hampton's dinner. But when an unexpected guest arrives, you find yourself the centre of attention.

Warnings: Baron Zemo chat (I hate that guy), mention of PTSD and anxiety for reader, angst, whump/hurt (the comfort comes next chapter!)

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken ages and it's not the extra long chapter I promised because, in the end, the extra bit just made sense further along in the story telling. We're really moving the plot along at pace in this chapter and revealing a bit more about our antagonists so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for sticking with this!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

There was a time in your life when you had only ever dreamt of sitting beside the Avengers in their luxurious top floor office, discussing plans to save the world. Like everyone else, you’d seen the news, watched the footage of them battling in New York and been awed by their bravery and prowess. But now, seeing them argue and having felt their fear and wrath, you only felt cold.

Their icy demeanors hadn’t thawed since you returned, the truce between the heroes and Loki was dangerously thin, held together only by Thor’s surprisingly adept diplomacy and their need for you.

Below the table you felt the only warmth in the room, Loki’s hand on your thigh, pressing his fingertips just a little harder than normal, to help you feel grounded. Below the surface you could feel his magic thrumming, restrained in its frustrations, straining against its bonds in an attempt to be freed. It was a feeling you could empathise with, your magic called back to him, coiled inside of you ready to strike.

The poor weather of mid autumn had kept you trapped inside and unable to practise the depths of your magic as you wanted to. But when you were alone together, your sedir tangled with his and had allowed you to make and support illusions both beautiful and romantic.

You sighed, bathing in the memory of Loki twirling you around his bedroom, transformed for the evening into a miniature Asgardian ballroom.

Hands clasped, one steadying palm at the small of your back as the waltz rose around you. His intricate steps leading you into dizzying turns.

Your memories blurred together, dances from aeons past melting into this perfect evening.

“Are you two listening to me?” Steve barked, hands on his hips as he commanded the room, a large leather binder spread open on the table in front of him.

“Of course we are, Captain.” Loki drawled, a note of disdain lingering in the otherwise quiet room.

“Yes, Captain Rogers.” You answered, earning a tickle of long fingers along the inside of your knee from Loki.

Such a good girl

A teasing warmth spread over your skin, starting in the dimple of soft flesh that Loki had pinched and up your spine.

I just want to get this done with

“As I was saying,” he coughed, flipping a page in his folder, “Loki and Estrid -”

“Oh, you don't have to start using that name-” you interjected.

Since returning from Tønsberg you’d shared your new name with the group for clarity. But it still felt odd to have an entirely different identity. Though there were things you could become accustomed to, your new name was proving to be a sticking point.

“Loki and Estrid -” Steve continued.

“Lady Estrid,” Loki interrupted, leaning forwards across the table and flourishing a gold pen from the thin air around his hand, “if you're going to ignore her wishes, you could at least be correct, Captain, allow me to update your little record for you. It’s Lady Estrid, Princess of -”

“If you want to use it, then just Estrid is fine.” You took the pen from his hand and placed it carefully on the table where it melted into the surface leaving a faint trace of gold.

“Darling you should -”

“It’s fine, Loki, let’s just-” you tipped your head towards the waiting team and raised your eyebrows.

Please, let it go

Never, you deserve to be treated with respect, especially from these cretins

I know, I know, but the sooner we’re done here the sooner we can just leave

Loki scowled, but turned back to Steve, “continue.”

Steve returned the scowl and went back to his book, “Loki and Estrid will use their powers to infiltrate the party and separate at the bar, your new identities will be in your briefing packs and outfits will be provided. Although I suppose, should the need arise, you will both be able to create disguises. Should you be compromised this will be key to your escape.

“Loki, you’ll head to the office room so that you can break into the safe. There should be a laptop in there with - well, possibly best if you don’t know. But it’s important. Estrid you’ll be keeping people away, providing cover as this is your first op. Loki, you should hand the laptop over to Natasha who’ll be waiting here -” a map flashed up above the desk in the same, obnoxiously bright blue and orange that all of Stark’s designs seemed to favour.

You and Loki leant back in your chairs to get a better look. “Natasha will be waiting in the first of the get-away vehicles. It’s important that you both stay at the party for at least a short while so as to not raise suspicions. When it’s time for you to leave we’ll let you know through your comms. Understood?”

“Understood,” you nodded at Steve.

“Loki?” The Captain stared pointedly at the Prince sitting next to you who had become so bored he’d produced a nail file from somewhere and was carefully tidying up the edge of his middle finger.

“You understand that I’m a God? This is not the first time I’ve been in a raiding party.” Loki raised one eyebrow, “I think between us we’re perfectly capable. Now, my darling, can we leave?” Loki had a way of speaking to you as if there was no one else in the room, clear and direct, his eyes focussed on you entirely and it made you tingle all over.

“Yes, we can go.” You allowed yourself a small smile at his impatience and took his outstretched hand, allowing your gaze to rise up his lean, muscular body.

The two of you had barely left Loki’s rooms since your date, snuggled together in blissful solitude morning and night. Just being in the conference room felt painful and you longed to return to the comfort of Loki’s bedroom.

“But we still have -” Steve started.

“My Ásynja has said that it’s time for us to go,” Loki cut off Steve’s protests and turned his back on the Avengers, tucking your hand into his elbow and leading you back to his quarters.

The light glimmered off your dress as you stepped from the dark interior of the limo and out onto into the softly lit courtyard of Baron Zemo’s Hampton’s residence. Behind the tall gates and stone walls, New York’s most wanted were being wined and dined while the Avengers set up their checkpoints in the inky darkness of the beach and grassland that surrounded the vast estate.

Loki kept hold of your hand once the door closed behind you, tucking your fingers into the crook of his elbow, the soft wool material of his suit warmed your palm while you looked up at the towering mansion. Behind the stone walls the home itself looked almost cosy, warm lights detailing the traditional white wood and blue accents. Who could have known that behind the white linen curtains lurked so many criminals, the blood on their hands enough to fill the tinkling fountain in the centre of the courtyard.

You squeezed Loki’s arm to get his attention.

“Yes, darling.” His voice was a low purr against the backdrop of muffled string music and laughter.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “what if I can’t hold this shape?”

The entire operation was dependent on you and Loki pretending to be a minor couple from one of the European crime families trying to break new ground in America. When you’d questioned where the real couple would be, Steve had told you not to worry about it. But Tony gleefully explained that he had arranged for Natasha to pay the mysterious pair a visit just before their limo was due to arrive. You hadn’t dared to think about where she’d put them for the duration of the evening.

“You can and you will,” he assured, tugging you closer, “and then we can be free of this nonsense, Ásynja, and we can return to Tønsberg together.” Behind the illusion, you saw the flash of Loki’s blue eyes, a shimmer of gold, of promise, and you straightened yourself. “It doesn’t hurt that you look absolutely radiant, my darling.” He grinned, appraising the black cocktail dress that had been chosen for you. It was a very beautiful dress, and although you’d become rather accustomed to wearing green and blue, you had accepted that it was your job to blend in tonight and not stand out.

“Loki,” you gave an embarrassed whisper.

“Well, you do.” He said, matter of factly. “It’s incredibly distracting.”

You grinned back, “you look very handsome too..”

“Then let’s make our entrance.” Even under his vanir the same mischievous look past over his eyes.

Loki gave your hand one last squeeze before guiding you up the steps and into the foyer, ready for your first mission.

Inside, the party appeared to be in full swing. The host, Baron Zemo, held court at the centre of the room, talking animatedly with a large group of men all dressed almost identically in luxurious looking black tuxedos. Hanging off their arms were some of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, the jewels dangling from their ears catching in the soft lighting, their tinkling laughs cutting through the gruff bluster of their dates.

Loki had already clocked at least two doors that he would need to check, you could tell by the way he squeezed your arm as you passed by the quiet porter who took your coats at the door. He would have to sneak off soon, but it was your job to stay at the bar installed in the corner of the large dining room, to talk to anyone leaving the Baron’s circle of confidence who might become suspicious about Loki’s whereabouts and, in the event anyone left the room, you could alert Loki or try to cause a diversion to allow him time to secure the laptop and escape.

Together you made your way across the crowded room to the bar and ordered drinks, taking only the barest sip to keep sober. Although the sedatives that you were used to taking had completely worn off, you were liable to get very drunk, very quickly, when you were nervous and you had never had to maintain a completely different body while drinking. You hoped that twirling your straw flirtatiously would be enough to look natural while Loki scoped out the room.

“It’s time, darling.” He whispered in your ear, his familiar scent ghosting over you, despite his unfamiliar appearance. He traced the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose and then kissed your cheek, leaving you with goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Loki siddled away from the bar, blending into the shadowed edges of the room and vanishing from sight as he rounded the corner into the area roped off as ‘private’.

Alone, you surveyed the room again, watching as the Baron captivated his laughing audience with another tale of his debauchery, the crispness of his starched shirt hiding the clearly healing cuts and bruises below.

You’d heard stories about him, mostly from the Avengers themselves, about how he had tried to break them, how he had manipulated his way into the compound and triggered Bucky. The super soldier hadn’t been around for that conversation, but Steve had looked over your shoulder as if he could still see the image of his best friend, snarling like a feral beast as he tore his way through the compound. Natasha had reassured you that it couldn’t happen again, but it wasn’t Bucky you were afraid of. He seemed to be as much a victim as circumstance as you, always grimacing before a fight and never bragging about his victories. He was trapped in that compound just as you had been, his only comfort the red headed spy that he was dancing around approaching.

The reassurances of the Avengers meant nothing to you, because it wasn’t Bucky or the Winter Soldier you were afraid of. It wasn’t even necessarily the Baron and his despicable friends, although the easy way he spoke about death had sent a chill down your spine.

The people you were really afraid of, who made your skin crawl and your head hurt. The people you really wanted to be away from... It was the Avengers and Agents that swarmed the compound, the way they recited their allegiance to each other and bowed down to Stark and his wealth.

That scared you more than anything else, because it left you with no one to trust.

No one but Loki.

It brought a familiar, nagging, question back to the front of your mind. If the Baron had been neutralised, why were you even here in the first place? No one had told you and it was really the last place you wanted to be while you were still recovering from your ordeal.

What if the kidnappers were here, what if he was part of it? Your heart beat sped up, your chest feeling tight as your breath became shallow.

You turned away from the bar and carefully dabbed at your tearline, catching the tears before they fell and tucking your now mascara stained handkerchief back into your clutch bag, allowing yourself time to play with your bracelet, hidden inside, flashing in the candle light as the only way to sooth your fractured nerves. For the first time you’d do anything to go back to your slow and steady life from before, to not know about this world or any of these so called powers, if this is where it got you.

Risking a look up at the room you were relieved to see no one had even noticed you, and you allowed yourself to think of the one thing that was keeping you going, Loki. If none of this happened, there’d be no Loki and, powers or not, he was the first positive thing to come into your life in a long time. Or, if your memories were right, to come back into your life.

Your breathing evened out at the thought of him, the way he’d smiled so softly while helping you shift into this new form. How he’d kissed your temple while waiting for the limousine and held your hand the entire way. He’d promised to reward you for your bravery as soon as the laptop had been handed over and, if it was anything like his other ‘rewards’ it was certainly worth looking forward to.

Just as you were settling into the thought of falling into bed with Loki, a ripple of fear rolled up your spine and a scream cut through the gentle tones of the string quartet. You span around, leaping to your feet, your hands held in front of you just as Loki had taught you, ready to defend yourself against the mobsters.

But there was no gun fight, no knives drawn, instead the room began to fill with blinding light, so white you had to cover your eyes with your hands, pressing so hard you could see stars as the other guests began to scream and shout.

“Estrid, are you there?” Natasha’s voice crackled in your ear, so far away and useless as you backed away to crouch down behind the spindly barstool. Suddenly this entire operation seemed like a terrible idea.

“I’m here, but so is something else, where’s Loki?” Your voice cracked, hoping he was close by.

“He secured the item, it’s with me and he’s heading back to the party-” Natasha’s response was cut off by the familiar feeling of Loki’s presence entering your thoughts.

I’m here, I’m safe, are you?

It floated to you through the chaos, anchoring you to your spot. If he was coming then you could hold yourself for now, though you were too scared to even breathe properly. Each inhale felt jagged, like ice in your lungs.

There’s someone here, it’s so bright, I can’t see, I don’t know what’s happening

“Estrid, come in? - Report? - Estrid!” Natasha shouted, the distinctive click of her trying different channels before returning to yours made your head ache. Slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you popped out the earbud and placed it in your bag, silencing the electric hum of the comms.

Everything else went silent then and, for a few seconds, you thought it might be over, but then there was a hand on your elbow, pulling you up and out from your hiding place. You hoped it was Loki and that the change in his cologne was due to his needing to hide, but an uneasy feeling had already settled over you.

“Loki?” You whispered, “can I open my eyes?”

“You can open your eyes, child.” The speaker had a deep, rough voice, as if it hadn’t been used in many years, the words jagged and jarring, pulling at your memories.

“Child?” You cracked one eye open enough to see who had spoken, the room was still white, but between the two of you it flowed as a golden river, dust motes dancing in the air and rather than being blinded as you imagined, it made you think of your Grandfather and hazy summer afternoons with the windows open wide and the dust motes dancing in the air.

Around you the party goers were locked, stock still, in time, their hands over their faces as yours had been.

“Come, Estrid, I have been looking for you.” He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, turning your face up to him as you opened your eyes. In slow motion he smiled down at you and you felt a strange sense of peace wash over you.

The man before you was tall and fair, blonde curls fell in perfect tendrils over his broad shoulders and the green cloak that fell to the floor in waves. On one shoulder a silver pin kept his cape attached to his tunic, as if he’d stepped straight from a history book into the party. Although the room was already bright, he seemed to be lit from within, like he was standing in the summer afternoon sun. His eyes were bright too, but not with anger.

“Who are you?” You asked, though it was clear this was another god, you willed Loki to arrive, none of these mortals would be able to help you now and despite your training you felt powerless. All of your energy was focussed on maintaining your illusion, just in case there was someone looking.

“Ah, child, of course, you do not remember. I forget myself, that we have not seen each other these past centuries. It is I, Lugh.” He stepped back and placed his hands back on the pommel of the broad sword hanging from hip and nodded his head politely. “I knew your mother, long ago, she was dear to my heart and I had searched for you, her beloved daughter, for many years. I have sent for you, though you escaped my man.” He smiled at you indulgently, “you always were such trouble, Estrid. Whatever will we do with you?”

His words were soft and he was honest and friendly as if he knew you well, but all you could hear were the shouts of your memories.

Insolent welp

Disgusting

Fallen

You’d been dragged around, half starved, poisoned and beaten. The anxiety that had gripped you so tightly just moments before morphed inside of you, a tight, heavy rage bubbled and filled every pore. How dare he. How dare anyone. Turn up now and play nicely after you had been passed around like a spare part.

“Get away from me.” You kept your voice low, clenching your fists at your side as your anger bubbled within. “Get away from me, right now.” Your rage, like lava, moved in slow motion, rising slowly and heavily.

“Child, it is imperative you -”

“No!” You shouted, the light blared brighter, the bulbs smashing around you like fireworks.

The man reached forwards, and as his fingers touched your own the bubble inside burst and your magic took over, wrapping you in leather and velvet, a shining silver breastplate and epaulettes were revealed by the shimmering blue flame that danced over your body. The meagre outfit you’d once conjured with Loki and Thor was a mere memory compared to the battle ready armour. In your hand you now held a long spear and, as you watched, the flame danced to it’s place upon it, flaring and then dancing in the air.

But he didn’t let go and as he tightened his grip you were overtaken by the memory of winters in front of a huge fire, piles of furs surrounding you and your mother, sipping wine in a cup and laughing. The snow beyond the entrance of the room fell in soft flakes and the fire smelt of pine and peat. The man was there laughing too, toasting with your mother.

“You are truly a kind friend, Lugh, to host us so.” Your mothers voice was warm and rich, like sweet chocolate and spice.

“Brigid, my dearest friend, it is an honour to have you and your beautiful daughter stay with me on your journey home.”

“Ah, we should discuss that later,” your mother nodded towards you, “I have been planning for Estrid’s future and I fear - sweet girl, perhaps you should go and play a while.” Your mother pointed towards a neat looking pile of woollen capes and a young boy, so familiar, with bright eyes.

“Go, Estrid, enjoy the snowfall.” Lugh touched the top of your head as he passed and you were thrown back into yourself.

The man took a step back, his own five pointed spear tapping the floor and, behind him, Loki stood aghast but smiling only for you, his own battle armour shimmering gold and his horns brushing the doorframe.

“You heard the lady, back away, now.” Loki strode forwards, twin daggers appearing in a flash of magic, he turned his head away from the bright light of the stranger, only facing him when his magic had conjured a pair of black sunglasses to protect his eyes.

The man sighed and banged the end of his spear on the floor again, a red flame appearing which he swung in a wide arc creating a barrier between himself and Loki. The wall of flames reached almost to the ceiling, blocking your escape and your rescue.

“Loki!” You cried out, making your first move away from your position at the bar towards him, a hand reaching out, almost touching the flame.

“Leave him!”

You rounded on the man, your spear tipped forwards in front of you, half defensive and entirely furious, your teeth ground together. “I don’t know who you are but I won’t go with you, leave me alone!”

The man rushed forwards, knocking your spear to the side in one deft movement and grabbing your hands, “you must listen you’re in danger. You are being hunted, you must stop using your magic and hide yourself.”

“By you!” You fought against him, “I won’t be put back there, I won’t.” But something nagged at you, that was why the boy was so familiar, you’d seen those eyes before as the boy, now a man, had earnestly begged for you to stop using your magic. You hadn’t listened, you’d carried on and then - and then you’d been taken again.

The man began dragging you towards the windows, the too bright light that had kept the guests subdued parted around him like smoke revealing the dark parquet floor.

“I can remove you from this place, but you must stop manifesting this armour, you do not require it and it will only draw their attention.”

“Let her go!” Loki projected himself across the room, his body still stuck behind the flames but multiple versions of himself appearing in a semi-circle and hemming your kidnapper in. The man glowed brighter, blurring his features beyond recognition.

With one last attempt to free you Loki, your real Loki, pushed at the flame, shooting his own magic through in one huge green blast, and knocking the man backwards and away from you.

But you fell too.

You cried out, rolling on the floor and landing heavily against the doorframe with a sickening thump.

<<Chapter 11

Chapter 13>>

God mentioned

This is just from my own reading, I'm by no means an expert! This is also a fictionalised version of actual mythology, just like Loki & Thor in the MCU.

Lugh: A figure in Irish mythology and belongs to the Tuatha Dé Danann. He's portrayed as a warrior but is also linked to artistic skills as well as truth telling and oath taking.

Lugh and Brigid are similar in that they are linked to many attributes.

In the Irish mythology Lugh challenges Brigid's husband, Bres, who is king. So. Take from that what you will! In this story I will be portraying Lugh and Brigid as friends and kindred spirits.

#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #Loki series #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki smut #The Old Gods and the New #Loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki angst

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coquitokisses · 30 days

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Trusting Again | chapter 003: the truth

Word count: 3232

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

📍Berlin

So after we arrived at the place, thankfully we weren’t cuffed anymore, but we weren’t in the clear either. We’re kinda in trouble.

“So we’re going to prison.” I looked at Sam and Steve as we walked to the place where they were gonna let us be in

“No, we’re not.” Steve answered

“Well this kinda looks like we are.”

“This isn’t prison.” Steve said

“I cannot believe my first time being arrested was because I decided to follow two idiots and go against the law.”

“Ow, what? You regret it now?” Steve pouted

I just rolled my eyes. “Shut up, this is your fault.”

“My fault?!”

“Yes! We should’ve let the CIA catch Bucky, why the hell did we even bother going to Bucharest? Look where we ended up, and where’s Bucky? Arrested.”

“Oh please.” Sam rolled his eyes “Even you said that this didn’t make any sense.”

“You shut up, tú lo que eres es un lambe ojos, I don’t wanna hear it.” I told him

“Hey, don’t talk to me in Spanish.” He pointed at me

“You’re a kiss ass.”

“Oh look who’s talking.” He looked at Steve and they chuckled

I sighed. “I hate you both.”

We saw Natasha walking in our direction and she approached us.

“You” she pointed at me “Aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well if I would’ve known it was gonna get this bad, I wouldn’t have come.” I shrugged

“Liar.” Sam looked at me

“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like.” She said in a low voice

“He's alive.” Steve told her

We walked into the office and we saw Tony talking on the phone.

“Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences” Tony said while looking at us three “Obviously you can quote me on that cause I just said it, anything else?... Thank you, sir.” He said before hanging up the call

"Consequences?" Steve said

“Secretary Ross wants the three of you prosecuted, had to give him something.” He shrugged as he started to walk away

“I'm not getting that shield back, am I?”

“Technically it's the government's property” Natasha said “Wings too.” she looked at Sam

“That's cold.” Sam shook his head

“Warmer than jail!” Tony said

“Well, he's got a point.” I sighed “What the hell are we supposed to do now anyways? Die of boredom?”

“Well you can always play Stop with Sam.” Steve looked at me “I’m sure there are some papers and pens laying around somewhere.”

“That'll be great.” I looked at Sam

“Fine, but only because I'll probably die of boredom too.” he said

“Guess we'll be playing Stop then, wanna join, grandpa?” I looked at Steve

“I'm good.” He chuckled “Good luck.”

(...)

It’s been like an hour. I’m getting bored and I honestly want to leave. I just can’t be sitting around doing nothing, I get bored. We're now in the office, the three of us and Sharon, as we watch that doctor evaluate Bucky.

“Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?” Steve spoke breaking the silence

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon shrugged

“Right.” Steve nodded “Its a good way to flush a guy out of hiding, set off a bomb, get your picture taken, get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.”

“You're saying someone framed him to find him?” I asked him

“Steve, we looked for the guy for almost a year after Austria and found nothing.” Sam told him

“We didn't bomb the UN, that turns a lot of heads.” Steve said

“Yeah but that doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him, it guarantees we would.” Sharon replied and then frowned kinda getting all the pieces together

“Yeah.” Steve turned to look back at the monitor

“Tell me Bucky, you've seen a great deal, haven't you?” Zemo asked Bucky

“I don't wanna talk about it.” Bucky responded

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” Zemo replied

I kinda don't like this.

“I got a bad feeling.” I whispered to Sam as I leaned my elbows on the table

“About what?” He whispered back

“All this.” I sighed “It’s just.. it’s kinda weird.”

“Don't worry” Zemo added “We only have to talk about one.”

And just seconds after that, the power went out and the whole office was dark. Sam and I looked at each other and we kinda already knew that something was not right.

“Bad feeling alright.” Sam looked at me

“What the fuck?” I said and Steve turned around looking at Sharon

“Sub-level five, east wing.” She told him and he immediately looked at me like telling me to go with him

“Just go.” I said

Sam and Steve both stormed out of the office and I stayed there for a few minutes. I saw that Tony and Natasha were walking towards the door and Sharon saw them too.

“Come on.” She said to me

I got up and followed her. When we got out, we were kinda in like a lobby or some shit and there was Bucky just punching anyone who tried to stop him.

“Forget it, I’d rather get arrested.” I said after seeing how Bucky fought with Tony, but the poor man ended up on the floor.

I was really thinking about turning around and going back to where I came from, but before I could even think about leaving, Sharon grabbed my arm.

“You’re not leaving.” She said

“I’m sorry, but who was the one who almost died last time when he appeared in Washington?” She opened her mouth to talk, but I didn’t let her “Exactly, this time I’ll watch everything from a very far distance.”

“But you’re trained better than me.” She looked at me.

“You’re working for the CIA.”

“Cat! You gotta help me.”

I just rolled my eyes. “I should’ve stayed in New York.” I said starting to go down the stairs and she followed me

He might succeed and kill me this time.

When we first got there, Sharon was the first to kick him and I had no other choice than to follow her. It didn’t take long before Bucky was throwing her onto a table, breaking it, and grabbing me by the neck with his metal arm and pushing me onto one of the other tables there. I tried to get him off me once he started choking the shit out of me, but it was obviously impossible to even push him away.

“You could at least recognize me.” I managed to say, words barely coming out of me, as I tried to breath and also get him off me

My sight was starting to get all blurry and then I finally felt his hand releasing my neck. I rolled off the table coughing trying to catch my breath and when I managed to get on my feet again, I ran out of there trying to look for Sam and Steve. I even went outside but there were too many people running and screaming that it was literally impossible to find someone. I just opted to get the hell away from there and ended up walking for almost 40 minutes, also, trying to not get caught by the freaking helicopter that was looking for us.

I arrived at what looked like a small bookstore and decided to call Sam because I had no idea where they might be.

“Hey.” He answered

“Are you guys okay?” I asked him “Where the hell did you go?”

“I sent you the location of where we are.” He said “Come quick tho.”

“On my way.”

I hung up and went straight to Sam's conversation, I saw the pin and realized it wasn't so far from where I was so I decided to walk there and I literally arrived in almost 20 minutes. It was like an old auto shop kinda?

I got in and I saw Steve, Sam and Bucky inside.

“Took you forever.” Sam said

“Y'all literally vanished.” I rolled my eyes “And also, I had to make sure nobody saw me, there's a fucking helicopter looking for us, did you guys know that?”

“Are you okay?” Steve asked

“I’m fine.” I nodded and then I looked over at Bucky

Now that I have him closer and he's not trying to kill me, I definitely noticed that he looked a little different than the last time I saw him. Starting with his hair, which is a little longer.

If it wasn’t because he's a super soldier, I would smash my fist straight into that perfect face of his right now.

“And we meet again, soldat.” I stood in front of him folding my arms “So much for not wanting to be found, huh.”

“Not that I was planning on running into you three, specially not you.” He responded

“Well look at us now.” I gave him the most sarcastic smile ever

“Alright, that’s enough.” Steve said and I just stepped away from Bucky “I see Cat made quite the first impression.” He looked at his friend

“You don’t say.” Bucky sighed

“Oh he did too, trust me.” I scoffed “You do know we all have a fucking target on our backs, right?” I looked at Steve

“He didn't do it.” He said

“Oh I knew that since the moment we saw the news.” I nodded “I just can't really comprehend why the fuck would you go through all this shit when we already have secretary Ross on our asses because of the fucking accords and now we also have the CIA looking for us!”

“No offense, but that's a little hypocrite coming from you.” Bucky said to me “Why do you care so much about following orders now?”

“Offense and listen, you really shouldn't be talking shit after what's been happening.” I turned to look at him “You should've listened to me when you had the chance.”

“You really wanna do this now?” He raised an eyebrow

“Alright, enough.” Steve sighed

“You know what? I kinda want to.” I stepped closer to him, completely ignoring Steve

Not that I wanted to ignore him, but I'm actually kinda mad so my mind is only focusing on Bucky.

“Then why don't you do it, agent?” Bucky said to me

I just sighed. “You really are starting to get on my last nerve, who would’ve thought.”

“Shut up, both of you.” Steve said in a more serious tone “That's enough.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” I turned around looking now at Steve

“That's why we called you.” Sam said

“I'm not tryna put my ass on the line again! We got enough with the accords to also be dealing with escaping from the fucking CIA.”

“What? You regret it now? Cause if that's the case, by all means, go talk to Tony, I’m sure he’ll welcome you with open arms.” He said folding his arms

“Don't be ridiculous, I’ve always been on your side, but this is fucking insane.”

“And don’t you think I know that? I’m tryna think of what to do now.” He said and I let out a sigh

“I just don’t want us to end up worst than we already are.. if that’s even possible.”

“It is, we could be in jail.” Sam said

“Relax, it won’t happen.” He said and I just leaned on the wall without saying anything else. “Who was that guy?” He asked Bucky

“I don't know.” He responded

“People are dead.” Steve started saying “The bombing, the setup.. the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you, I need you to do better than "I don't know".”

“He wanted to know about Siberia, where I was kept.” He said after a few seconds “He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve asked

“Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier.” he replied

“Woah, hang the fuck on.” I shook my head

“Cat.” Steve looked at me

“No, wait, I'm with her on this one.” Sam spoke “You're saying there are more like you?” He asked Bucky

“Yes.” He nodded

“Who were they?” Steve asked

“Their most elite death squad” Bucky replied “More kills than anyone in HYDRA history and that was before the serum.”

“They all turned out like you?” I asked him

“Worse.” He looked at me

“The doctor, could he control them?” Steve questioned

“Enough.”

“He said he wanted to see an empire fall.” Steve added

“With these guys he could do it.” Bucky nodded “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize, they can take a whole country down in one night and you'd never see them coming.”

“Well this is just great.” I said with sarcasm

“This would've been a lot easier a week ago.” Sam walked over to Steve and I

“If we call Tony..” Steve started saying and I scoffed

“I don’t think we’ll believe us.” I cut him off

“Even if he did..”

“Who knows if the accords would let him help.” I said and Steve let out a sigh

“We're on our own then.” He looked at the both of us

“Maybe not.” Sam shrugged and we both looked at him “I know a guy.”

“So” I looked at Steve “What's next, Cap?”

“I need to make a few calls.” He said “And we need to get out of here.”

“We gotta stay low tho.” Sam said

“Yeah, very low.” I nodded

“I'll be right back.” Steve walked out, I supposed so that he could make "a few calls"

Sam walked out too and I took a deep breath. This is insane.

I looked at Bucky and then I sat on the floor in front of him.

“So” I crossed my legs “Being framed is fun huh.”

“You have no idea.” He sighed “How'd you know it wasn't me?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been tracking you.” I replied “…From a distance, of course.”

“Of course you have.” He said not at all surprised “Does Steve knows?”

“No, of course not.” I shook my head

“Why? Felt guilty?”

I let out a sigh. “A little.”

“He’s gonna find out eventually.”

“Yeah, I know.” I nodded “I’ve been thinking about telling him, but I just don’t know how he’s gonna react.”

I should tell him. I really should because maybe we wouldn't be in this mess right now if it wasn't for me.

“You have a certain look on your face, agent.” Bucky said in almost a whisper “What is it?”

“I just.. I think I better tell him now.”

“He's not gonna be happy.”

“I know.” I sighed “But I have to.. better late than never.”

I looked back and saw Steve standing next to Sam, who was actually talking on the phone.

“Steve.” I cleared my throat and I stood up from the floor “I, um.. can we talk?” I said and he looked at me “I kinda need to tell you something.”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded “Wanna go outside?”

“Well I don’t want the police to see us, so here it’s fine.”

I was really anxious. I didn’t even know how to start.

“What is it?” He asked when he saw that I was pretty impatient

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it.” I sighed “Remember when I went with Sam to Europe? To find Bucky.”

“Yeah, what happened?”

“Okay, well remember that we did found him, right? We told you we were in Austria.”

“Yes, Cat, I remember everything, where are you going with this?”

“I didn't lost him.. I, uh..” I bit my lip nervously “I let him go.” I finally confessed, he looked at me a little confused

“What are you talking about?” He frowned and then looked at Bucky “What is she talking about?” He pointed at me

“I was the one who talked to him that day.”

“Yeah and if I remember correctly, he got all defensive and threw you across the room, you were all bruised and even had a cut.” He said “What do you mean you let him go?”

“I talked to him, he said that he needed time and I just.. I simply decided to let him go.”

“Simply decided?” He raised an eyebrow

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“What the hell happened exactly for you to let him go like that?”

“Don't be mad at her, it's my fault.” Bucky interrupted us and Steve looked at him “I was just trying to remember everything on my own.”

“Stop.” I looked at him “I should've knocked the fuck out of you and drag you out of there.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Steve nodded “You realize that because you let him go we’re in this position now, right?”

“Yes!” I raised my voice “I made a mistake, I know and I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think it was too big of a deal at the moment, he just wanted to remember everything on his own and I thought that was okay.”

“Well it clearly wasn't.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” I sighed “But at least my intuition was right! He didn't do anything.”

“But look where we are now!”

“But that’s not entirely my fault now, is it?” I said “I mean, the fucker who messed with his head is the real responsible here, he could’ve done it even if Bucky was with us.”

“That’s not the point…”

“It is! It kinda is.” I cut him off

“Cat, you’re not realizing the consequences that your actions had.”

“I am! Trust me, I am realizing it and I knew what I was getting myself into when I made that decision.”

He clicked his tongue. “I just can’t believe you could do something like this knowing it would have consequences. I just..” he sighed “I can't believe that you, out of all people, could do this.”

“I know it was wrong but I just..”

“What?” He looked at me with his hands on his hips

I let out a sigh. “You're really mad at me, aren't you?”

“A little.” He nodded “And a little disappointed too, you were supposed to do your job and I asked you to do it because I knew you were the only one who would do it no questions asked.”

“I know and I'm sorry.”

“We could've prevented this.”

“I know.” I sighed feeling guilty as hell “I really am sorry.. trust me if I could go back in time and change what happened, I would.”

He let out a sigh. “I'll go see if Sam's done so we can get the hell out of here.” He said walking out again before we could say something else

I just sighed and then leaned on the wall. Bucky's eyes found mine and he took a deep breath as he sat straight.

“I'm sorry for trying to kill you.” He said looking at my neck

“It's fine.” I said “Not the first time anyway.”

“Sorry.”

“At least you’re apologizing now.”

“Apology accepted then?”

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” I sat on the floor facing him “I tend to hold grudges.”

“Well that’s not good.”

“Do I look like I care?” I tilted my head

“You got issues, you know?”

“Well.. that makes two of us.” I shrugged

“…Can't argue with that.” He shook his head and I chuckled

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #the winter soldier #captain america #black widow #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky fanfic

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sunflowersbones · 2 months

Text

The Hand That Feeds - IV

Warnings: This fic will contain eventual NON-CON, DUB-CON, abuse of power, violence, emotional manipulation, alluded to Mafia!Bucky. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

18+ only. This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary : Your best friend’s and yours entire lives have revolved around violence, death, greed and fear. You’ve always had each other and took comfort in the fact that none of this was your doing; you never had a choice. But what happens when time winds its roots around you, such that even when given the opportunity to leave, he neither leaves nor lets you leave. {mafia au}

DIVIDERS: @firefly-graphics

You finish emptying your closet, as you get startled by your door bursting open, you’re surprised to see him here; but the anger in his eyes doesn’t surprise you.

“How’d you even get in?”

“Your mom let me in.”

“I thought she was out?”

“I caught her on her way out; she’s probably deciding to prioritise her friends now, considering her daughter decided that she wants to leave everybody,” he grits out. You heave a deep sigh at that.

“Seriously? You’re going to leave, just like that, just because of some guy and his incessant antics?”

“This isn’t because of Zemo.”

“Then why!?”

“Zemo just made me accept something I’ve always known.”

“And what’s that?”

“That death and violence will always be a part of this life, Bucky.”

“You’re scared you’ll end up like your dad.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “our families are indulging in crime, Bucky; no matter how much they sugarcoat it, that is the truth.”

“Eventually you’ll have to bear the brunt of it; eventually you’ll have blood on your hands.”

“So let's just leave.” Your voice strains in pain, your distress seems evident, yet he says nothing. His eyes bore into you, with a look you can’t describe; his jaw clenched tight. There’s something about the way he’s staring at you that makes you almost uncomfortable.

“And what makes you think that I haven’t?” he says, barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway.

“What?”

“What makes you think that I don’t know what I’m doing?” He stands up and walks over to you. “What makes you think that I haven’t had blood on my hands yet?”

The entire air around you is still. Silence with Bucky has never made you feel this uncomfortable or unbearable.

“Never mind,” he sighs, breaking the trance.

“No, wait—what did you—when?”

All of a sudden, you feel Bucky’s entire weight on you. As your back hits the wall, one of his hand is on the back of your neck as he kisses you.

You’re unable to move; the firmness of his hands makes you whimper as he deepens the kiss; he bites your lower lip and tugs on to it as he stops to catch his breath; the only reason that your standing still is due to his hold on you.

You feel your breath hitch as he drags his hand down; underneath you skirt, you feel his fingers graze you through your underwear as his thumb toys with your clit. Your finger nails digs into his shoulder as you try to compose yourself. You feel your entire body heat up, is it anger?, frustration?, arousal…? you don’t know.

His mouth latches on to yours again and you feel his tongue glide along with yours and before you know it, he parts your underwear and slides two of his fingers into you.

You feel yourself getting wet as his fingers massage the insides of your wall, your toes curl as you feel the pleasure riling in; now, more annoyed at yourself, you smack his shoulder as you hiss, “Bucky stop it.”

“Marry me.” he whispers as his glazed eyes stare back at you.

This time you actually feel the wind getting knocked out of you. You’re unable to say anything except whimper as he increases his pace.

“I love you and I know you love me. You don’t want to leave, you’re just scared, so lets get married. It’ll put your mind at ease.”

You feel your legs shake as your stomach tightens and your core clenches as you feel your self come undone around his fingers.

You stare at him through your heavy haze and the blues of his eyes don’t seem so beautiful anymore. He leans in to give you a small peck on your lips, he sighs into it as he says “you’re not leaving; ok.”

You have to leave; you’ve made up your mind; everything that’s happened has made you more determined. Yet you feel despair creeping through you when your taxi gets stopped by a familiar black car on your way to the airport. However, you’re relieved when you see Steve walk up to you and not Bucky.

The ice in your coffee has completely melted, and he’s yet to say anything; the awkward tension hangs high in the air.

“I don’t have much time, Steve.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving all of us?, especially Bucky. You really think you’ll be happy all alone?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of Bucky. “Does Bucky know?”

“About you leaving today?, no.”

“But he’s been losing his goddamn mind because you refused to answer his calls for the past 3 days; how do you expect him to go on without you?”

“How did you even know?”

“That’s not important; the important question is, why are you sneaking out? Why are you leaving all of a sudden without telling any of your friends?”

“What about Nat, huh? How do you think she’ll feel when she finds out; you ever think about that?.”

“Bucky told me about how you feel, about everything.”

“What!” You whispered alarmed.

“I know that you're scared; you’re allowed to be. But running away isn’t going to solve anything.”

You feel the annoyance bubble up. “Oh yeah! What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that he’s an asshole?Did he tell you that he’s decided that he gets to choose what happens in my life and when it happens? Did he tell you that he hurt me!?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

His deprecating tone doesn’t surprise you. You feel your eyes tingle; you knew this would happen—that he wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t even try to. None of them will; Bucky was the only one you had a little hope in; and that got shattered into pieces. This is exactly why you decided to leave without telling anyone.

“You’re always on his side, aren’t you?”

“What no—this isn’t about picking sides.”

“No! It is, and it always will be. The two of you are always a team. I’m the extra; I’m the one outside. Always…”

“God; Y/N, if you look around for once, you’ll see that; that’s not the case at all; we’d never separate you off like that!. Especially Bucky, I don’t know where all of this is coming from.”

“He doesn’t even care for me as a friend!” You cry out.

“Y/N… He cares for you more…, more than anything in this whole world.” He sighs.

His solicitous words almost make you want to believe that he cares, that everything will be fine, and that you can move on with life. Almost… but you know better.

“I’m leaving.” You stand up to walk away when you feel Steve’s hand wrap around your arm. You wince at the strength of his grip.

“I can’t let you leave like this, Y/N. I’m sorry, but— you’ll have to come talk to Bucky at least once. Talk to him; sort it out. Give everybody a proper goodbye and then leave if you want. It’s the least you could do.”

The anger in his voice makes you helpless, and before you can retort back, you find yourself in the backseat of his car.

Steve was always too disciplined for your liking. You always knew that they were a pair and that they’d do anything for each other. You were proud of their loyalty to each other, but now…, you don’t feel that way anymore. A part of you is deeply concerned that even if you told him what had happened, he wouldn’t believe you; he would never choose his best friend over you, and that plunged you to even deeper depths of despair.

@scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

#dark!fic #mafia au #bucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bestfriend!bucky barnes #bestfriend!bucky #x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader

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luna-rainbow · 5 months

Note

Thanks again for answering my ask and sorry to bombard you with these.

I absolutely agree with you about Bucky and Zemo on TFatWS. This might be long as I have so many thoughts about this. The series seems to fail to understand T'Calla wasn't just someone who helped Bucky although he was of course. He was his friend. The movies don't get everything right with Bucky but I think Bucky and T'Calla's relationship is one of the high points. We don't see them much but when you do you can tell Bucky respected T'Calla immensely and not just because he's a King. He seems to be really genuinely fond of Shuri as well, asking her to call him Bucky instead of the formal Sargeant Barnes.

I know I said it before, but the Wakandans are his friends/his protectors/his adoptive family. He is not just some white guy with colonialist arrogance who expects favours from the African State. If anything its the other way around- he fought because he felt he owed T'Calla and his family a debt.

As such- I do not think he would ever have helped the person who killed T'Callas father. Yes he didn't know T'Chaka, but that is his friend's father. Its like if he found out someone killed Steve's mother and worked with them. Like slapping his friend in the face, and I can't see him doing that.

Also, finally can we talk about how the show robbed us of the emotional impact of T'Challa's death on Bucky? He's sad about Steve leaving but I firmly believe would have grieved for T'Calla too. He's lost not one but two of his best friends within a very short space of time, so he's got grief alongside all his other problems to deal with. Don't know how that man managed to stay sane. Well relatively sane and didn't have a complete breakdown.

Thanks for all the asks!

I love the idea that T'Challa and Bucky had a strong bond. I agree I think Ryan Coogler intended in that short post-credit scene to show that Wakandans have accepted Bucky as part of the family.

The kids are peering down curiously at him as he sleeps, and he doesn't startle, nor does he startle them when he wakes. There's a high degree of mutual trust there. He lives in their community, not in a boxed off high tech room like the one where he was put to sleep. They dressed him in their ethnic clothing and colour-coded it to match Steve. Someone tied (and probably combed) his hair for him when he didn't have a prosthesis. Someone has folded a blue shawl and tied it into a pretty sling to protect the stump of his arm. This is the image of a guy that was being well looked after -- not just in an impersonal, we gotta keep him alive kind of way, but in a what can we do to make his life better kind of way, and if that isn't some sort of family I don't know what is.

I mean...compare with this costume...that looks like some random sweatshirt from some sports brand worn backwards with the extra fabric pinned and pulled over tautly over his right shoulder, complete with the soft elastic cuffs and the weird neckline. Coogler put more effort into a 30 second cameo than TFATWS did for one of Bucky's most emotionally poignant scenes in a series where he's the main character. Sorry I'm never going to pass on an opportunity to shit on the series.

And like yeah, while I don't ship T'Challa and Bucky (I really like T'Challa with Nakia in the MCU), I think they're an underrated dynamic. They strike me as somewhat similar in temperament? Both peace-loving, respectful and compassionate guys, who have a strong sense of loyalty and a fierce streak when someone they love is hurt. And both Bucky and T'Challa are older brothers to younger sisters, and they both have that oldest kid sense of weary responsibility. And for someone who was broken out of 70 years of brainwashing by being reminded of a promise he made, Bucky clearly has a strong sense of loyalty and responsibility.

So yeah, it makes no sense to me that Bucky would actively do something so personally hurtful, so disloyal and irresponsible to T'Challa, without adequate justification.

As for the mourning, yeah. At the time they didn't know how Coogler was planning to write T'Challa out of the story, so that might be why the mourning wasn't in there. To be honest, Bucky's feelings about Steve was handled poorly too. As I've mentioned before, the series avoids actually addressing how Steve's departure played out. Sam and Bucky are sad about Steve's absence, but never talk about the hurtful way Endgame!Steve abandoned both of them, which is far more emotionally relevant. They talk about him as though he had died in a noble sacrifice, not dumped the world on them and went to mess up someone else's timeline.

#bucky barnes #t'challa #asks

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blackleatherjacketz · 2 years

Note

When you've got me on my knees

Baron Zemo x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Edging, Bondage, Sex Toys, Dom/Sub Dynamics

On the brink of collapse, your thighs shake as he pulses the vibrating toy deeper into your center, his eyes transfixed on your slack expression. Your eyelids nearly fall shut as you attempt to guide your hips into it, moaning with delight as every inch of your skin tingles with sheer ecstasy.

He pulls the toy out from between you thighs, robbing you of the pleasure you were so close to experiencing, like a word you can’t recall that’s on the very tip of your tongue. You feel it begin to diminish already, to recede back into your core as that device of his slowly leaves your body. Whining in protest, you instinctively knit your brows together as he looks at you with piqued interest.

“Do you want me to continue?” He teases your clit with the tip of the toy upon its exit, spreading your juices up and down your length.

“Yes!” You barely manage a whisper, tugging on the restraints that keep your hands tied behind your back.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you get off that easily, did you?” He strokes your hair with a gloved hand, keeping the toy just close enough for the heat to radiate onto your moistened skin.

“No? I… I don’t…” your answer trails off, unsure of what you’re supposed to say in this moment to get what you want. You aren’t exactly used to playing these kind of games just yet, the rules to them still seeming a bit hazy in your head.

“Do you want me to stop?” He leans down closer to your face, his glare so heavy it nearly weighs you down.

“No.” All you want is for him to keep touching you, for you to be released and to be able to touch him in return, but something tells you that it won’t be that easy.

“Do you want more, my darling?” He traces the outline of your face with his forefinger, a devious smirk curling his lips upward.

“Yes,” you nod your head, eyes welling up with tears as your entire body shivers in anticipation. “Yes, please.”

Zemo licks his lips, his eyes suddenly glinting with satisfaction as he smooths his fingers down your neck and chest before bringing them down to your belly and between your thighs. He spreads them even further apart as he gets down on his knees, kissing the sensitive skin between them as he holds the toy even closer.

“Good,” he kisses you there again. “Now beg me for more.”

#baron zemo x reader #baron zemo imagine #daniel brühl #helmut zemo fan fiction #helmut zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo x reader #daniel bruhl

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punemy-spotted · 1 year

Text

Iris - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

Pairing: SoftDark!Devil!Helmut Zemo x Sky-Captain!Reader

Warnings: Cosmic Horror; Dubious Consent; Dubious Morality; Estranged Relationship; Zemo and Reader are not in the Good Place; THIS IS A HORROR FIC; Soul Stealing; Incredibly Loose Relationship with Physics; This is a Fallen London x Marvel Crossover Moment; There are Space Bees; And Giant Lovestruck Space Crabs; Violence; Murder; Death; Poison; At Least One Reference to a Garrote; Estranged Relationship; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Sokovia rose, then fell, and then rose again. And now the stars will never be the same.

Notes: Hi, welcome, I really wanted to write an MCU crossover with the Fallen London 'verse so here we are. Imagine House of M except Wanda Maximoff became an actual factual God and it actually wasn't that bad after all. And now imagine all of that is background noise in favor of one unhinged Devil and one overly hinged Epistolarian. An Intrepid Epistolarian.

Oh also Wanda's waging war against Queen Victoria. It's fine.

For those of you who have read my other Zemo fics, finished and unfinished, if you notice similarities between this fic and the other ones... yes. I am Frankenstein trying to raise this fanfiction monster and put scenes, passages, and themes to better use than languishing in my Ao3/Tumblr cupboard. (Also if you've read my other fics, hi, hello, I love you.)

I crave feedback, so tell me what you think!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The First taught Restraint, and the Second Betrayed. The Third taught us Hunger and the Fourth we Remade. The Fifth will live on in the Heart of the Sun but the Sixth did quickly Fade. The Seventh City will never Fall, never ending the Deal we made.

She kept some of the old names when she took this place, you know. Built onto it, even when her Renewed Empress had to bend the knee to the Scarlet One, sealed away in her undying mausoleum.

The Proclaimers of the Cult of the Sanctified, still seated at the Avid Horizon’s High Gate and whispering Truths to their counterparts on the other side, were right — the Seventh City would never fall; the Bazaar would never be compelled to deliver that fatal missive to that Beacon of Bright Betrayal it loved so much; there would be no opportunity to argue that Seven Cities worth of love is proof enough of Her Worthy Love.

If there is one thing you know about opportunities, it is that they are also opportunities to fail.

The long tradition of the Duchy of Sokovia — that Bulwark which once stood the test of time against even the Tsars of Russia — is not what it once was. There is, in fact, no such thing as Sokovia now, not the way you would think. There are Sokovian people, clinging to an identity lest it be lost in the abyss below, but all that remains of the Earthly land which remembered the Duchy’s history with the joint Empires of Austria and Hungary is now nothing more than a chasm of stone and steel.

A monument to violent delights in want of violent ends.

Cast your eyes not to the ruins of her past but to the gleaming future written in the stars ab—

The sound of a train whistle drowns out what remains of the tinned announcement, an earsplitting shriek you endure for what feels like forever, but is in fact — if the clock before you is accurate — no more than two minutes. Which — as it turns out — is plenty of time to interrupt the announcement’s conclusion and leave ringing silence in its wake.

Good. You were rather tired of hearing your own voice drone on any longer.

You turn your head away from the train schedule you had previously been pretending to occupy your mind with, watching the rails with mild impatience and fidgeting with your gloves.

He is late.

It’s not abnormal, really, for the more independent locomotives — those not on the Scarlet Empress’s own payroll, that is — to run on their own definition of time, but you’ve never known your contact to be anything more than a man of his word.

When you’ve properly interpreted his words, that is.

No matter. You have the luxury of time. Collecting your luggage takes little effort — a rather bulging handbag and a briefcase is not so terrible compared to the crates of fuel, souls, and hours you see being carted around you — as you step briskly towards the more busting central parts of port. The station itself has seen better days, almost empty save for a handful of dock-workers and the occasional Employee making sure the schedule runs on time, but as you pass through an open archway into the city proper, they seem eager to resume whatever activity they might otherwise have abandoned for your intrusive presence.

NORTH.

How did it happen? Was it prophecy — or maybe some mad interpretation of the scream-whispers of Distant Polythreme, a vision of the Garden — that led the Proclaimers to make their rhyme, completing the riddle and speaking for the Masters themselves?

Something must have rung true to the Masters, for them to solve the riddle.

Novi Grad rose, then fell. Fell until it could fall no further, until there was nothing left of decades of history but ash and blood for the ghosts of her denizens to wander through. Until there was nothing for the Masters and their bats to drag to cavernous depths.

So she, in her infinite tragedy and infinite pain, became the solution.

Your tea, madame. You look up from your scribbling absently, glancing briefly up at the server and then feeling your polite smile immediately fade off your face.

Must you always play games?

Helmut Zemo stands before you with a perfectly placid smile on his cruelly handsome face, So lovely to see you again, sweetling, and you’re quite welcome for the tea.

You narrowly avoid the temptation to roll your eyes, closing your journal and placing the cap on your pen, its nib glimmering venomously in the candlelight, You are late. A casual accusation, one he dismisses with an easy wave of his hand, just before seating himself before you and stealing a biscuit from your place.

And you are impatient. Surely this must mean you have missed me, little bird. If he notices the way you flinch at the sweetname, struggling to compose yourself before you manage to settle on sternness, he does not say.

You have faced worse things than Helmut Zemo, you know. Worse than the ache that slices through your heart when you look at him and his easy smile, the one you might have fallen in love with once again, if you forgot yourself.

You will not.

Instead, you breathe, letting the heavy air in your lungs out slowly as you tug the fingers of your glove until the whole thing is loose enough to be removed entirely.

You always hated getting biscuit crumbs on your whisper-satin fineries.

You asked me to meet you here, Helmut, a fact which he seems to dismiss with another too-sharp smile, eyes flickering over you.

It burns. Licking over the neckline of your dress before moving down to the delicate pearl buttons that hold shut your bodice, heat rising over the thin lace collar wrapped around your throat, and you wonder idly how often he fines pleasure in watching people struggle to breathe and die.

I’m told you have been busy, he tells you flatly, practiced hand snapping his biscuit in half before dipping one perfect semi-circle into the cup of tea he’d placed in front of you, Too busy, it seems, to inform your husband of your whereabouts.

The knifeblade edge of his voice is enough, slipping past the plates of armor you always try to wrap around yourself every time you agree to meet him, his joyless smile the barbs he leaves in your heart, ensuring it will bleed for him for a few months more after your eventual parting.

The first time he’d touched your cheek in the shadow of a clockwork sun while you wept, his lips ghosting your skin, you nearly fell to your knees at his feet.

That should have been the last time you would ever see him, as he whispered sweet nothings and sweeter promises in a language you did not speak, burning intention into your skin and leaving you forever bound, words falling from his lips like a waterfall.

The third time you met Helmut Zemo, you cried. And the fourth. And the fifth.

You refuse to meet his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles in your gown with trembling hands, Is this what you came to remind me?

He does not stop smiling, even as you make note of the uneasy tension sitting on his shoulders, the vicious gleam in his eyes as he continues his visual examination of your countenance, tea soaked biscuit melting idly on his tongue.

Yes, it is.

You should be grateful for his honesty — Devils rarely are, after all.

He continues before you have a chance to consider it, How much farther do you plan to run from this place, sweetling, before time returns you back to me?

You wish he wouldn’t call you sweetling.

You haven’t been sweet in a thousand years.

But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? He already knows that, anyway.

Though you suppose that maybe you ought to tell him about something he doesn’t know.

Why did you call me here, Helmut?

Why does any man call his wife back to the port where they parted last? I missed you.

You swallow thickly, avoiding the unyielding blade of his sharp-eyed gaze and even sharper smile, refusing to let your heart leap out to him as it aches to do, You are lying, Helmut, you accuse, pretending to busy yourself with the biscuits he brought to your table.

As always, as you should have expected, he only grins at you — a cruel, twisted grimace that makes your stomach twist not-wholly-unpleasantly — before reaching out and brushing his knuckles over your cheek, Would you let me lie, little bird?

I certainly hope you don’t expect an honest answer to that question.

His laugh is as sharp as his smile, a huff of bemusement you recall bringing you happiness before, a long time ago.

Now it reminds you of the taste of poison, of bile curling in the back of your throat, of blood and metal and the screaming agony of time stretched to its very limit.

The silence too, stretches between you, taut as the wires you would wrap around your palms to cut through cheese and impertinent throats, waiting for you to finally surrender and rise to your feet, gather your things and bid him as formal a goodbye as you’ll allow yourself — always just out of reach, I have no intention of playing games, Helmut, you challenge with the same tone of voice you might use to scold the Empress’s misbehaving sons, If you refuse to do me the courtesy of your honest, then do me the gift of your absence.

He watches you, eyes glimmering amber with insult, but does not dishonor you enough to reach out, There was a time, little bird, when you loved me without such reservation.

The words burn across your skin like living fire, your vows and his molded together in a single remembered sigil, a bond forced with the very language of Judgment, unbidden agony scorching your composure as you make a desperate, futile attempt to push away the memory; his voice soft, the low timbre of his accent sliding over your ears like honey in your mouth, gentle lips on yours as he sealed your fate with a kiss, I have memorized you like a prayer.

You could almost have forgotten he was a liar, standing lost in your memories as you are, forgotten the price of promise and the weight of truth.

Almost.

The tears burn at the backs of your eyes, but you blink them back, let bone grind against bone before, More fool I, then, for thinking you did the same.

You turn to walk towards the door, four sovereigns in hand to pay for your meal — interrupted though it has been — making a concentrated effort to not look back, even as you hear his voice cutting through the otherwise silent room, When everything goes wrong, it is a terrible burden to bear alone, don’t you think?

You cannot help yourself, can you? Shoulders slumping as you declare a reluctant defeat and turn to face him, swearing your heart has lit aflame.

You cannot ignore His Law forever, little bird.

You know nothing of responsibility, Helmut, your voice is cold as the icy expanse beyond the warm walls of Novi Grad station, still aching to leave and frustrated by your uncooperative feet.

There’s a twitch at the corner of his lips, amusement sparking in his own eyes, And what of you, little bird, what have you learned of responsibility since your escape from Perdurance?

You visibly flinch, the name sparking an endless array of horror and memories within you, just as his expression falls into uncharacteristic regret.

Nothing, clearly, you reply hollowly, words bitter on the back of your teeth, Much to your pleasure, I think.

That wounds him, to your surprise, hurt painting his face before he controls his features and buries both regret and rage beneath a placid mask, Infinite freedom is as tight a prison as an opulent cage, on occasion.

#helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #dark!helmut zemo #dark!helmut zemo x reader #dark helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo x reader #fallen london #mcu #dark fic #fanfiction

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andydrysdalerogers · 8 months

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The Type You Save - T H I R T E E N

James "Bucky" Barnes and OFC Alexandra "Alex" Richards

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

A/N: The Tag list is open! Only four more chapters after this!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: T W E L E V E

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

The following morning, Alex, James, Steve and Tony were in the police conference room. Alex’s leg was bouncing hard, and James put his hand over her knee. “Doll, please relax.”

“Alex, its going to be fine. The guy I’m setting you up with is a pro,” Tony said just as the doors opened.

“I am. Have a winning record and everything,” a man said as he walked in with another man. “Helmut Zemo,” he said as he offered his hand to Alex.

“Alexandra Barnes. Nice to meet you.”

“I wish it could have been under better conditions, Mrs. Barnes.” He sat across from her on the table.

“Please call me Alex.” She fidgeted with her hands. “Inspector Zemo, can you tell me how this would work?”

“Call me Helmut.” He took out a sheet of paper and handed copies to everyone. “Its pretty straight forward. Once Mr. Grey arranges his meet with you, our team will go and scout the area for all exits, compromised routes and devise a plan of action. We would put a wire, which is not actually a wire, on you so we can listen in.”

“Would she be sent in alone?” James squeezed Alex’s hand.

“If its asked of her, yes. Either way, we would have someone close to her to get her out if needed.”

“What about our son?”

“I would recommend placing him somewhere out of the way with people you trust. Alex,” Zemo looked at her. “We will do everything we can to help you and your family. Let me put your mind at ease.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ordinary looking bracelet. “This is your wire.”

“It’s a bracelet.”

The room chuckled. “Yes, doll, but it has a listening device embedded in it. We can hear everything going on as long as it maintains skin contact,” James explained.

“How much does he have to talk for you to arrest him?”

“We just need him to threaten you.” Tony crossed his arms. “Once he does that, we can submit this to the court for a restraining order and place him under investigation.”

“He had a lot of powerful friends,” Alex remarked. “Do you think this will work?”

“Alexandra, I will be honest with you.” Zemo stood up and walked to lean on the table next to her, arms cross. “This is dangerous. I think its brave for you to do this to pin this bastard. But, as a realist, I recommend having your affairs in order. Your husband is a police officer; he can tell you how dangerous something like this really is. You must decide if going through with this investigation is the best option for you and your family.”

Alex swallowed as the fear rose, feeling the bile in her throat. She got up and ran out of the room and to the restroom next door. She fell to her knees, throwing up. She could hear the door open and close and then hands on her back. “I’m here doll. Breathe.”

The door opened and closed again, and James handed Alex a bottle of water. “Sip, doll.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this.”

“You don’t have to Allie. We can take off right now.”

Alex took a swig of water and spit it out before taking a drink. “We’d be running forever.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“We’ll never be able to settle.”

“That’s probably true.”

“You really want to live like that?”

“If it kept you and Drew and Steve safe.”

Alex took another drink. She got up and cleaned herself in the mirror. She reached for James’s hand and went back to the conference room where the guys were talking amongst themselves. “Helmut, I understand the concern. But I can’t run from my past forever. I need to do this. Tony, I would like to apply for a weapons permit. Stevie, Jamie, I would like to get some training in.”

“Are you sure doll?”

“He took my family from me. I won’t let him take this.”

Ding.

That noise was starting to grate on Alex’s nerves. The amount of fear that flooded her when she heard it made her body hurt. It had been two weeks since the meeting at the police station. Two weeks of workouts, training and learning about gun safety (at James’s insistence.) Alex had put Nat in charge of the business while she prepared.

Ding.

“For fucks sake,” she mumbled after jumping for the 20th time that day. It hadn’t been Grey this entire time and she was on edge. She went to pick up her phone and froze.

Pet, Fishermen’s Warf, Noon, Three days. A geotag was attached to the message.

She sank to the floor. Three days. Three days with her family. Three days to make the arrangements. She screenshot the message and sent to the guys. She got up and went to make Drew’s after school snack. The door flew open 20 minutes later. Alex kept her head down.

“Doll?”

“Hi love.”

“Allie, look at me.”

Alex dragged her head up to look at her husband. Who looked like his heart had been torn out. Her lip trembled. “Jamie…”

James pulled her close as she began to cry. “Everything is going to be ok, understand. Tony and Zemo are already casing the area to map everything. Steve is already getting your weapon ready for practice. We are going to get through this.”

“Jamie, we have to go see the lawyer.”

“No.”

“James…”

“I said no. We don’t need to because nothing is going to happen. You will do the meet and then come home. Please Alex,” he held her head in his hands, lacing his fingers in her hair. “Don’t.”

“We have to. We have to because we have a son who needs to be cared for in case anything happens.” Alex turned her face enough to kiss James’s palm. “It gives me peace of mind.”

“I hate this.”

“I do too.”

After getting their will and trust together, Alex and James went to meet the rest of the team at the wharf. “This asshole knows how to pick them,” Tony commented.

“That’s not helping Stark,” James replied.

“I know, sorry, it’s just… this leaves a lot of things opened. There are too many routes in and out, too many people and too many ways for that little weasel to escape or take her with him. Just the water alone makes this impossible.”

“So, what she doesn’t meet him?” Steve asks.

“She doesn’t have a choice.”

“Ok, just walk me through it,” Allie asked.

They walked the wharf, Tony and Zemo pointing out potential exits and blind spots. All the information made Alex’s head spin. She knew how to case an area. Hell, she did it for four years without giving it a second thought. But the thought that it was all to protect her made her continuously nauseous.

“Alex, I have to say it.”

“Please don’t Tony. I get it. With my past, I get it. This doesn’t look good.” She looked around. “If I was a thief, this would be perfect.”

“Alex, its best if we just go straight forward with Grey,” Zemo commented. “We will have you wired, and the place surrounded. It would be the best we can do.”

She nodded. “I guess.”

“I’ll be escorting you Ale,” Steve said. “It’s better if Bucky doesn’t go anywhere near this guy. He’ll drive you in though.”

“I – I think I want to go back home now.” Alex kept a stiff upper lip but inside she was dying. She understood what was going to happen. She would walk out but not by herself. She needed the next couple of days with her husband and son.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of emotions. Alex kept it in check in front of Drew. They went to the zoo, the park, anywhere except near the water, building memories for them to have. The night before, Alex packed Drew’s bag to take to Nat and Wanda’s. She wrote a note to him.

My baby Drew,

If you are reading this, momma had to go away for a little bit and I’m sorry that I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’ll try to come back as soon as I can my baby boy. Please listen to your dad and Uncle Steve. They will take care of you. Keep working at school. You are so smart, and I know you’ll do great things.

Please don’t be mad at your dad. He tried. I know he did.

I love you,

Momma.

As they dropped him off, Alex handed the note along with some other cards and envelopes. “Just in case,” she said to Nat.

“Don’t say that. Please, Ale, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I know. I just can’t leave without knowing he’ll be ok.”

“He will be. He’ll be better when you get back.” Nat hugged her friend hard.

“Please take care of them,” she whispered. “Promise me.”

“I promise. Won’t need to because you’re coming back but I will.”

They let go. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Alex was silent on the way back home. Steve was staying with Tony to give the couple more privacy. It was the last night, even if James was in denial that nothing was going to happen. Alex knew. She had known how Grey operated. He was going to take what he believed was his no matter what.

James made love to Alex that night slow, lingering kisses, feather-like touches, whispers sad in the night. When she was asleep, he watched her, memorizing every line, freckle, the curve of her lip, every stand of hair. He was afraid to sleep, that she would disappear again.

He woke with a start. He looked at Alex was gone. “Allie!” He got up and put on some boxers. “Allie!”

“I’m right here.” She was sitting in the window seat, grasping a mug.

“Baby?”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore. I just wanted to watch the sunrise.”

James lifted her up and sat her on his lap, her back to his front, holding on to her. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m scared.” Her voice is small.

James holds her tighter. “I know.”

“What if…”

“No doll. Nothing is going to happen. You hear the offer, you walk away.” He intertwines their hands. He studies their wedding bands, the engagement ring still shining up at them.

“Promise me he won’t get to Drew.” She can feel the tears forming in her eyes.

“Nat and Wanda will have Drew. I’m putting them into a safe-house today. They will be ok.”

Alex twists to look at James. “Jamie, I…”

“It’s ok doll. Don’t say it, I know.” He kisses her forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you. Family…”

“Over everything.” She reaches up to kiss him. It’s not the last time. But it feels like it.

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@peaceinourtime82

@lokislady82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #the type you save #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x ofc #Steve rogers #detective AU #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut

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darkholme · 4 months

Note

what do u think would happen if rick ever met bucky barnes. thinking of the fact he tried to fight zemo for revenge for buck's death etc etc

anon, i'm not exaggerating when i say that this is something that i've thought about daily since i got obsessed with rick and read the issue that casually throws out that he and bucky look like twins. i have a whole comic pitch that's centered around this with a matching spotify playlist and pinterest board. i have a pretentious web weave in my drafts about their potential relationship i'll finish and post one of these days.

i honestly don't think that rick at this point in continuity would actually want to meet bucky - he probably knows that he's alive and around, but wouldn't seek bucky out, wouldn't ask about him, would probably completely avoid him if at all possible. i really dislike a lot of modern misinterpretations of rick's tenure as steve's sidekick and wearing the bucky costume (looking at specifically bendis, PAD, and nick spencer), but i do think that rick being equal parts embarrassed that he was so adamant about wearing that costume, as well as being resentful of steve and steve's rose tinted memory of bucky, are very in character.

because the (completely one-sided) issue that rick has with bucky isn't with james barnes the person; its with the idea of bucky the sidekick, the child who died tragically and heroically, that rick would never live up to.

and i am so interested in that! especially because, by contrast, i do think that bucky would want to meet rick! i think he would want to meet the people that are important to his father figure, and i think that he would realize how much he and rick surprisingly do have in common beyond looking identical.

i'm being a little vague here just because i do have a semi-serious comic pitch that is my big dream to write, so i don't want to give away all my ideas. but yes! i think very much that they should meet and talk! i'm shocked that this hasn't been done in mainline continuity yet!

#asks #rick jones #bucky barnes #spoiler: it would involve a lot of screaming and crying on ricks end tbh #sibling rivalry

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sunflowersoldat · 2 years

Text

All is Fair~ Peace & Parallels

Chapter 21: Peace & Parallels

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under the pressure?

Series Warning: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Emotional trauma, Bad language words, SMUT!

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: 2.8K

A/N: I am fuckinnnnnn tired, but the chapter is finished and it makes me happy to make yall happy sooo here ya go! The Holiday season really fucks me up... as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome! Anyhow, enjoy!💕

Your phone woke you from your dreams, you groaned as you silenced the shrill ringing. You brought the small bright screen to your face, your eyes straining to adjust in the darkness. Several messages littered your screen, some from Zemo, a couple from Loki, but the newest one was from Wade:

‘Need 2 move on targets 2nite b4 its too l8’

You rolled your eyes, you hated when he used shorthand. He was right though, you still needed to meet with him to go over the intel he had found, and make your move before you missed your window of opportunity.

You respond, letting him know you will meet with him soon, first you need to shower and get dressed. Locking your phone you place it back on your nightstand before turning over to see Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. A content sigh leaves your lips as your fingertips trace lightly along the smooth plains of his face. Rolling over you begin to rise from the bed, but his strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back against him, then under him, forearms caging you. His chiseled torso looming above yours.

“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” His voice is rough from sleep, a playful glint shining in his eyes.

Rolling your eyes, you lean up to peck his lips, “Yes… I have business to attend to and I am in need of a shower–”

His lips seal over yours, cutting you off, your eyes flutter shut, hands slipping to caress his face. You pull away gently, a smile splitting your lips.

Groaning he places his head in the crook of your neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin as he kisses down your shoulder, then back up your neck. Sighing you stop his ascent, holding his face above yours, “The city is in flames.”

He breaks from your hold, nuzzling your neck, breathing against your skin, “Mmm. Let it burn.”

“Steve…” You warn.

When he pulls away again, his eyes are clouded in thought, his gaze far away. You place your hands on both sides of his face, your forehead pressed against his, “Hey. Come back to me…” he blinks, the fogginess fades. A sad smile lifts your lips, “there you are… Listen, I have to do this, it's important.”

He shakes his head lightly.

“Please, let me handle this…” you swallow hard, “Let me fix this.” Your eyes meet his, pleading him to understand.

He nods slowly, “The moment this is all over, you are mine.”

A smile plays on your lips, if only it was that easy, you don’t have the heart to break his hope, so you nod in agreement, “After I finish this, I’m all yours.”

His eyes slip shut, his jaw clenching, “Promise me, Angel.”

Your heart feels like lead in your chest, but you agree, “I Promise.”

Rising from the bed, he offers you his hand, pulling you toward your bathroom he begins to shed what little clothing he still wears. His navy sweats hang low on his hips, he pulls you against him. His chest is bare and warm, your fingers splay against the taught muscles as his hands find the hem of your night-shirt, lifting it off your body. The cool air kissing your skin as his eyes rake over you.

Walking the two of you towards your shower, he flicks on the water before hooking his thumbs into your underwear, kneeling as he slips them off you.

Your brows scrunch, “Steve, what are you doing?”

He stands again, peppering your lips with his, his whispers meeting your ears between kisses, “You said we needed a shower.”

You pull away, raising a brow, “No, I said I need a shower.”

“Same thing.” he shrugs, his eyes softening when they meet yours, they are so vibrant and alive, like the first time you ever met him in the casino elevator. You want to get lost in them, dive beneath the surface, and drown in him. He smirks, tucking your hair behind your ear, his fingers gently grazing the spade tattoo, you shiver. “Besides, you better get used to this, we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Damn right you do, but a sinking feeling gnaws at your heart, how much time did you truly have to try and make it up? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you chuckle as he fumbles to strip himself of his pants, whisking you into the shower, the warm water trickling down your skin. He allows you the time to properly clean your hair and body, but he is oddly quiet. When you finish, you turn to him, your head tilting at his lost expression, stepping closer your hand softly caresses his cheek.

“Stevie?”

His eyes slowly rake over your body before locking with yours.

“Forget this city.” there is a resolve in his voice as it meets your ears, a fire in his eyes, your heart squeezing in your chest, your brows knit together.

One of his hands covers yours against his cheek, the other pulling you against him, “I mean it. We can run, right now.” His eyes frantically searched yours, “No one needs to know, we can disappear, just me and you, never look back.” There under his resolve, you hear the brokenness he is fighting to hide. With each passing moment that you don’t agree, you can see the hope fading from his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you shake your head, “I can’t.” you drop his gaze, “I’m sorry, I have to fix this, to ensure you are safe.” you feel the tears prick your eyes, as they settle over his still healing wound, your hand grazes it softly. Guilt slicing through you at the sight, “I’m so sorry...”

He lifts your chin so your eyes meet his again, “Don’t be,” his lips tilt upward, but there is still a great sadness haunting his eyes. “I’m a big target, kinda hard to miss…” his thumb swipes the tears that tumble down your cheeks.

Biting your lip you shake your head again, “It's my fault… I–”

He silences you, crushing his lips over yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, it's all consuming, as if you were the oxygen he needed to survive. His hands fall from your face to slip across your skin, causing goosebumps to break out across your body, one snakes around your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist, the other on your lower back, pressing you impossibly closer. He spins you, caging you against the wall, the sensation of the icy tile against your back, and his warm chest causes a shudder to ripple through you, a moan slipping past your lips.

A growl rumbles in his chest as his hardened length slips against your center, your breath catching in your throat. His hand on your thigh slips up into your hair, pulling your head back, so he can watch your face contort in pleasure as he spears into you slowly. Your eyes slip shut as he starts his agonizingly slow pace, you can feel all of him, each little roll of his hips, the way his head rubs just where you need him. He is taking his time with you, being so gentle it’s almost painful, he has you writhing against the wall. Your nails digging into his arms and back, his thrusts hard and slow, like he is learning you all over again. Burning you into his memory, his lips pepper onto your skin, kissing and nipping at the slick flesh of your neck and chest.

Both of you are slowly descending into madness, he knows what you need as he slips one hand between your bodies, expertly applying pressure as he circles your bud. A particularly harsh thrust has you careening over the edge, vision bursting with white spots as you clench around him, your back arching off the wall. His lips seal around one breast, his thrusts now faster, the rhythm failing as he chases his high. He releases your breast, truly pornographic sounds echo off the tiles as he buries his head in your neck. Both his hands wrap around your waist to steady you as he shoves deeper one last time before he finally stills, warmth spreading inside you, the two of you breathing heavily, he presses his forehead to yours.

“Swear to me, you’ll come back. That we will be together.”

“Yes.” you breathe against his lips.

“Swear it.” His grip on your hips tightens almost painfully, the broken plea leaving his lips.

“I swear.”

—

Wade walked into the downstairs office where you were lounging in the desk chair your feet propped up on the desk. Your gaze locked on Steve in the training area, the sound of punches landing on vinyl echoes as the office door opens.

Wade’s eyes follow yours as Steve stops his assault on the bag. Wade turns in time to watch Steve’s eyes meet yours. There is a light in his eyes, a happiness that seems out of place given the current circumstances.

The door clicks shut, Wade leans against it, waiting for you to acknowledge him, when you don’t he sighs loudly. Only then do you pull your attention to him, a distant look in your eyes.

He clicks his tongue, “Let me guess. You made a promise you can’t keep.”

The look you give him tells him all he needs to know, you don’t even try to deny it.

Your brows knit together, “Is it bad to give him hope?”

Wade walks closer, sitting next to your feet on the desk, “False hope can do more damage than an honest truth, no matter how painful.”

Your mouth quirks to the side as you chew your bottom lip, “Who says it’s false?”

Wade shoots you an apathetic look, your name leaving his lips softly, “You know the dead cannot mix with the living.”

Your gaze falls, fingers idly fidgeting as you lift your gaze back out to Steve, “Don’t tell him.”

His heart aches for you, nothing has gone right for you, out of everyone here, you’ve lost the most. As your friend it pains him to watch the sadness roll into your eyes, he nods slowly, “It’s not my place, kid.”

You swallow, and as if he had imagined the past five minutes, you stand from your seat, your normal, terrifying persona is back in place. Calm and collected, as if the man you would die for and life you deserve isn’t just out of reach.

Your eyes slide to his, “You wanted to talk about the intel?”

The change in demeanor gave Wade whiplash, but he would never call attention to it, “Yeah, let’s go upstairs, Zemo has more he wants to inform us on.”

—

The three of you enter Zemo’s office, Steve’s hand rests on your lower back as he ushers you through the doors. Zemo is sitting at his desk, a deep frown creasing his brow as he stares at his phone. In the corner, by the bookshelves sits Loki, his head propped on his hand, deep in thought, he doesn't even acknowledge you as you walk in.

Zemo greets the three of you without looking up, his hand raised, offering a new phone, “Mr. Rogers, I assume your men would like to be informed of your current state.”

Steve lingers for a moment, his hand sliding to grasp your waist briefly as he moves to accept the phone, thanking him. Steve nods to you and Wade, “I'll only be a moment.”

You give him a soft smile as he heads back out onto the main casino floor, you can already hear one of his men pickup as the door shuts. You turn your attention back to Zemo, who is now leaning back in his chair, loosening his tie, before steepling his hands on the desk in front of him. He sighs heavily, his eyes weary as he takes you and Wade in.

“I have set up a meeting between Steve and your brother at the ‘Lumerian’, a private room has been reserved. I want you there Wraith, we need both of these men to settle this, otherwise none of us will survive what's to come.”

“Yessir.”

“Sweep the building, ensure your brother hasn’t set any traps or brought backup. As of right now your only order is to ensure Rogers stays alive at all costs. Is that understood?”

You exhale, “Yessir.”

“Good. Желать, (zhelat, obsession.) you are with Laufeyson, his personal security for the time being.”

Wade eyes Loki, whose attention is finally on the three of you. Wade looks to you, then to Zemo, “Sir, permission to brief her?”

Zemo gestures to you, nodding, “You have the floor.”

Wade straightens, “The phone you gave me a few months back happened to be quite fruitful. As it turns out, Francis happens to be half of the four horsemen–”

You scowl, “The four horsemen?” your eyes flicker to Zemo, “They were exiled for their brutality, their methods are downright barbaric! How the hell have they been operating here, under our noses?!”

Zemo nods in agreement, “It would seem they have had help. Laufeyson knows their whereabouts, he will find out where they will be tonight. Then you and Желать (Zhelat) will take care of them.”

Wade clears his throat, “They also happen to be the ones responsible for your museum, and for beating up Steve’s kid. There have been murmurs of one of them being responsible for your parents’ accident…”

Anger flares within you, no wonder Peter had been so brutalized, the Four Horsemen were downright cruel in their punishments, fucking sadists. If they were responsible for your parents death, you were going to rip them apart when you got your hands on them.

Wade places his hand on your shoulder, giving you a knowing look, “Loki and I will contact you with the address, the minute we locate them.”

“It will just be the two of you. Заря and Удача (Zarya/Dawn, Udacha/fortune) are out of town, you won't have any backup.” Zemo gives the two of you a pointed look, “I don’t care how it's done, I want them gone. Then we will make our final move on our mutual friend.”

You give Wade a vicious grin, “Don’t start without me.”

He gives a grin that matches yours, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Keep him alive Желат (zhelat), you are dismissed.”

Wade nods as he and Loki head for the doors. Loki walks towards you first, the door to the office opens as Steve walks in. Loki grasps your gloved hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles, “Goodluck darling. Give ‘em hell.” He turns toward the door, stopping and turning to you one last time, his eyes meeting yours as Steve stops beside you, you can feel Steve watching the two of you. Loki gives you a camera worthy smile, “Goodbye Death Darling, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

You couldn’t help but feel like his parting words held a stifling amount of finality—

“Wraith…”

Zemo pulled your attention back to him, “Did you ever receive blood from Steve or Barnes?”

Your brows rose then furrowed, what kind of question was that, “I’m sorry sir? I don't–”

Zemo’s eyes met yours, pursing his lips before letting go of a long breath, “Your blood work came back from the night we pulled you out of the bay.” he paused, you could see him trying to find the right words for what he was about to say. Your stomach dropped, you didn’t like where this was going.

—

When Steve arrives at the Lemurian Star, he arrives alone. You had convinced him to drop you off a block away so you could ensure it was safe for him to arrive. He sat in the driver’s seat in front of the restaurant, he didn’t know what to expect from this meeting. The last time he had seen your brother, he had tried his damndest to kill him, Steve’s hand lightly grazed the wound under his shirt, and Tony damn near succeeded.

Taking a deep breath he centered himself, there were obviously bigger fish, he and Tony would need to set aside their differences, if not for your sake, for the sake of surviving.

Steve didn’t know who to trust, Loki and his brother felt slimy, he didn’t know if he could trust his own men, Bucky had proven he couldn't. And he didn’t necessarily trust Zemo or the other Aces, but he trusted you. After everything, you had saved his life, risking yours in the process, betraying your own brother, for him.

He knew Bucky thought he was insane for even considering trusting you, but at this point, if you were to truly be his demise, he would gladly die at your hands…

No.

Neither of you were going to die, this was going to blow over and then the two of you would leave this damn city behind for good. He would give you the life you deserved, maybe settle down have a few—

Ding

His phone vibrated in his hand, the little notification lighting up his screen:

Angel: Clear. It’s just Tony. Third floor.

Steve leaned his head back against the headrest, taking another deep breath.

Let's get this over with.

—

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